#i love having things to do but i am not very good at trying to figure things out on my Own

[astonmartinii]

careful what you wish for | alex albon social media au

pairing: alex albon x fem norris!reader

be careful what you wish for because sometimes childhood dreams come true (not the way you think though)

MASTERLIST | BROTHER'S BFF MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 453,096 others

yourusername: it's sweet treat hour in the paddock

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user1: oh to be a person in the f1 paddock getting a sweet treat

user2: ummm actually i think i deserve one more than any of the guys on the grid

yourusername: probably true lol

georgerussell63: BLASPHEMY

landonorris: blood is CLEARLY not thicker than water 🤨

maxverstappen1: i can't believe this betrayal

charles_leclerc: puppy play date is OFF

yourusername: not you people proving them right within 0.5 seconds.

user3: y/n really is god's strongest soldier these fools must be so annoying

alexalbon: not me tho

landonorris: nuh uh 😐

alexalbon: sorry to burst your bubble lando but on the scale of least annoying (me) to most annoying (carlos) ... well marketing love carlando for a reason

landonorris: Y/N TELL HIM TO STOP BEING MEAN TO ME

yourusername: i'm not your mum, defend yourself

landonorris: ???

carlossainz55: THERE IS NO WAY I'M THE MOST ANNOYING ON THE GRID? Y/N TELL HIM THAT

yourusername: keep your car away from oscar and maybe

oscarpiastri: thank you grid mum 🫶🏻

carlossainz55: grid mum clearly showing favourites 🤨 does my sleepovers at the norris household mean anything?

yourusername: your old ass does not need a grid mum be fucking for real

carlossainz55: GASP!

alexalbon: nevermind what ever the fuck that was... the sweet treats slapped, thank you very much

yourusername: see this is why you're my favourite

oscarpiastri: i am right here

logansargent: :(((((

yourusername: NOOO MY LITTLE DUCKLINGS I LOVE YOU

user4: the way y/n has taken to oscar and logan makes my heart so warm

user5: her missing a lot of the start of the 2023 season and logan saying he started to feel less lonely when she was back coming to races as she went out of her way to support him

user6: her and alex going to miami a week early and acting more like parents than logan's actual parents

user7: it's like the older drivers are her grid kids but she only goes full mama bear for oscar and logan

user8: i'm gonna need this friends to lovers arc for alex and y/n

landonorris: do you people ever shut up

yourusername: LANDO ???

landonorris: sorry you have to die single sorry i don't make the rules

f1

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63 and 1,405,788 others

tagged: alexalbon, landonorris & georgerussell63

f1: ALBON P5!!! now that's why lando had a poster of him in his childhood bedroom

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user9: i know lando forever regrets bringing that up all those years ago

user10: since we know how close alex and y/n are... i'd bet a lot of money y/n brings it up at any opportunity

yourusername: LET'S FUCKING GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

alexalbon: always knew you were my biggest fan

yourusername: it must be a norris thing

landonorris: alex the literal f1 account is making fun of me and you're SAYING SHE IS YOUR BIGGEST FAN

alexalbon: okay buddy lets calm it down

landonorris: don't put me in time out you're not my grid dad

alexalbon: am i not?

this comment has been deleted

alexalbon: i wouldn't claim you dummy

landonorris: i saw that ............. interesting

user11: the way this is the biggest hint for y/n x alex we've ever gotten but lando is not putting 2 and 2 together

yourusername: i've never had to try to keep a secret from lando i've always had to spell it out for him we're safe

landonorris: who is we?

user11: i see what you mean

georgerussell63: good lord, will i ever get out of the alex DRS train?

alexalbon: NEVER MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA

georgerussell63: have you already started drinking?

alexalbon: maybe, you know y/n can't mix drinks for shit

yourusername: P5 in a williams calls for a throwback college tequila punch

maxverstappen1: college tequila punch without me THE FAVOURITISM HAS GOTTEN OUT OF HAND

yourusername: you AND I QUOTE said "never talk to me again, i don't want to see you with any kind of receptacle that a person could drink out of, i never want to see a bottle of tequila ever again i feel like this is a hangover that will be passed on as some kind of generational curse"

maxverstappen1: now you say that i do recall saying something similar

user12: the way oscar and logan were so happy for alex, that's a grid dad for real

logansargent: we knew all of our drinks would been on his tab 🤞🏻

oscarpiastri: and he brought our kebabs!!

user13: how do i get this kind of treatment on my nights out?

logansargent: you have to third wheel alex and y/n when they're insufferably cute 👍🏻

this comment was deleted

user14: i'm on to yall

alexalbon

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 720,987 others

tagged: yourusername, logansargent & oscarpiastri

alexalbon: post night out munch with my favourites

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user15: oh i can smell the arguments coming

yourusername: no one die i'm putting my phone on do not disturb

user16: so real

georgerussell63: HOW DARE YOU DISRESPECT THE SANCTITY OF OUR FRIENDSHIPS I THOUGHT WE WERE PLATONIC SOULMATES OUR LOVE FOR EACH OTHER SEWN INTO THE VERY FABRIC OF OUR BEING

alexalbon: well damn

georgerussell63: well damn? WELL DAMN? THAT'S IT YOU ARE NOT INVITED ON MY ANNUAL EASTER SUNDAY WALK AND BOUTIQUE EASTER EGG HUNT

landonorris: wow that'll really show him george

georgerussell63: LANDO WHAT THE FUCK WE NEED A UNITED FRONT

yourusername: babe this isn't trench warfare

georgerussell63: i thought you weren't getting involved this is a GALEX DISCUSSION

charles_leclerc: i thought this was a twitch quartet dicussion?

georgerussell63: maybe if you people MADE YOURSELF USEFUL IT WOULD BE

charles_leclerc: you know what i don't like your tone. i am very secure in my friendship with alex and am happy he has other thriving friendships especially with those who have recently joined the team and need the extra comfort

alexalbon: finally a normal person

user17: what is happening

user18: i think this is what the kids call losing your shit

user19: kinda feels like it's ended prematurely

alexalbon: he's at my door

user20: oh? should we like maybe be afraid?

yourusername: WHY AM I LIVING IN THE SHINING RIGHT NOW DOES HE HAVE AN AXE?

landonorris: hold on .... why are you there?

yourusername: george russell is at the door screaming for justice potentially wielding a weapon and that's what you took from that?

landonorris: ummm yes? there's something weird going on here

oscarpiastri: i'm also here

logansargent: me too (PLEASE SEND HELP)

user21: well wasn't that just ... delightful

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 903,788 others

tagged: oscarpiastri & yourusername

landonorris: this whole grid kid thins has gotten out of control why is this kid being treated better than ME in my OWN HOME

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user24: how could lando be angry look how pookie oscar is

oscarpiastri: this is what i'm sayingggggg

yourusername: so fuck me i guess

user24: babe that's alex's job

yourusername: you right

user25: HOLD ON PEOPLE IS THAT Y/N/ALEX CRUMBS ???

user26: quick add it to the spreadsheet

alexalbon: there's a spreadsheet?

user26: we don't fuck around about your hypothetical relationship with y/n

alexalbon: that much is clear (send it my way asap)

yourusername: talking about favouritism in the norris household as if i have not lived with this for MY ENTIRE LIFE

landonorris: booooooo let me complain (did you or did you not get your weird kids from my career favouritism in the family)

yourusername: don't weaponise my children against me

landonorris: but they're so annoying oscar is eating all of the ROAST POTATOES THIS IS THE NORRIS FAMILY DINNER EVERYONE KNOWS THE ROASTIES ARE MINE

oscarpiastri: not anymore :P

landonorris: choke

oscarpiastri: don't make me call my dad

landonorris: call him up i'll beat his ass at this point I CAN SEE YOU TAKING ANOTHER POTATO

oscarpiastri: @alexalbon :(

alexalbon: keep my kid's name out your fucking mouth

landonorris: excuse me?

yourusername: ugh that's so hot

landonorris: EXCUSE ME?

user27: well .... add it to the spreadsheet?

landonorris: i'm so close to blocking all of you

yourusername: i thought you loved alex :(

landonorris: not that much

alexalbon: i see....

landonorris: NO I'M SORRY I TAKE IT BACK I LOVE YOU ALEX (YOU BETTER NOT BE SHAGGING MY SISTER HYPOTHETICAL OR NOT)

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, charles_leclerc and 528,095 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: silverstone babyyyyyyyyyyyyyy i hope my home treats my boys right

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user28: i would give a kidney to be there for real

user29: you might have to the prices at that race are INSANE

landonorris: finally the home race which means you actually have to root for me

yourusername: ehhhhhhh

landonorris: girl i did not get much sleep last night wtf do you mean EHHHHH

yourusername: alex is a london boy

georgerussell63: once again fuck george i guess

yourusername: you didn't give me time !!!!

georgerussell63: were you actually going to say it?

yourusername: no ❤️

landonorris: right george i think it's time to unionise against y/n and alex

yourusername: the fuck do you (do we?) know about unionisation babe our family are the capitalist machine

user30: so like when are we getting the full albon pets meetup with sausage?

alexalbon: you always treat me right

yourusername: only the bestest for you

alexalbon: oh wow i'm blushing

yourusername: i can make you do a lot more than that

landonorris: do you mind?

yourusername: LET ME FLIRT IN PEACE GOD I CAN'T HAVE ANYTHING

alexalbon: yeah let y/n flirt with me in peace

logansargent: he's giggling and swinging his feet - we might even get a skip away

alexalbon: sue me

user31: alex and y/n being so tired of lando is so true

oscarpiastri: they match each other's freak and they really need to let that freak flag fly

logansargent: as they should i need to post some of the cute pictures of them my phone storage is suffering

landonorris: i'm throwing my phone out of the window

user32: confirmation? CONFIRMATION?

alexalbon

liked by georgerussell63, maxverstappen1 and 1,359,086 others

tagged: yourusername

alexalbon: bro my nurse is hot as fuck

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user32: bro nearly died and THIS IS WHAT HE POSTS

user33: is it insensitive for me to celebrate that they're together on a post just hours after he was in a massive crash

yourusername: probably but we'll take the compliment regardless

georgerussell63: let it be known i'm annoyed that this is how i found out about this relationship but i'm so glad you're okay and that you had your person with you as support

alexalbon: my person awwwww georgie you're such as softie, but thank you i'm all good

yourusername: i knew you loved me really georgie

georgerussell63: i'll come round to this i guess

yourusername: so no more morning visits with weapons

georgerussell63: THERE WERE NO WEAPONS

alexalbon: you called me many mean words and sometimes words are our biggest weapons

georgerussell63: shut the fuck up

yourusername: that's not very peace, love and kindness he nearly died russell change up your tone

user34: YESSSSSSSSS WE CAN FINALLY SEE THE TRUE POWER OF THE ALEX/Y/N SASS

user34: also obviously very happy alex is okay

user35: i fear we as a fandom do not have our priorities in check

landonorris: i wouldn't leave the hospital if i were you

alexalbon: is that a threat?

landonorris: very much so

maxverstappen1: he's serious i'm literally holding him back (it's not hard he's like a gremlin)

landonorris: A GREMLIN WHO HAS BEEN GIVEN WATER

yourusername: but i thought you loved alex? surely this is the least offensive option on the grid?

alexalbon: awwwwww babe

maxverstappen1: i'm really not sure thats the compliment you think...

landonorris: NO I DO LOVE ALEX BUT NOT LIKE THIS

yourusername: it could be worse, you're besties with alex - i could've gotten with carlos or pierre!

carlossainz55: excuse me?

pierregasly: what did i ever do to you?

yourusername: whores ❤️

landonorris: true they are whores

alexalbon: and i'm a big ol family man

landonorris: you keep that to yourself

oscarpiastri: get well soon dad

logansargent: we love you !!!

yourusername: don't think we've forgotten about you exposing our relationship....

alexalbon: but we love you anyway

yourusername

liked by logansargent, landonorris and 783,209 others

tagged: alexalbon

yourusername: f1 cars are too dangerous actuallyyyyyyyyyyy you're all BANNED

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user36: finally some good fucking food

user37: i feel like we've been waiting for this relationship for so long i expect a wedding invitation at this point

alexalbon: yeah soz only the girl with the spreadsheet is getting an invite

user26: SCORE

alexalbon: well aren't we just the cutest couple in the world

yourusername: i fear we are

yourusername: and if any of you hoes try and comment any dumb shit like "us erasure" i'll break your toes

georgerussell63: oh! okay...

maxverstappen1: sure i guess so...

charles_leclerc: i'll let you have your moment for now

landonorris: i'm single but i want to be involved

user38: the lipstick print... i'm weak

user39: they already made me feel lonely before we got confirmation i think i might need to redownload hinge

landonorris: ugh i guess you guys are kind of cute

yourusername: of course we are one of us is a norris

landonorris: TRUE 💅🏻

alexalbon: ??? so you don't want to kill me anymore?

landonorris: no i guess not

landonorris: also max put a bell on my chain and my fingers are too fat to open the clasp so i can't sneak out to kick your ass

maxverstappen1: he really is an overgrown toddler

alexalbon: also your 5'2 ass is not beating mine

landonorris: i am NOT 5'2 i am 5'10 at the least

yourusername: girl you're maybe 5'5 and i WILL be getting my lick in if you fight alex - revenge for all those hair pulls all those years ago

landonorris: i'd say stop defending alex but you've always done that... i should've known

user40: so y/n really wasn't lying when she said she didn't have to hide anything from lando cause he doesn't pick up on anything 😭

landonorris: sorry i'm not actively looking for clues about my sister's sex life

alexalbon: bro i am in love with your sister lets frame this better

yourusername: hehehheheeehehhehe

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, logansargent and 1,874,036 others

tagged: alexalbon & yourusername

landonorris: i guess i always did say that i wanted alex as a bigger brother, be careful for what you wish for kids

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user41: FINALLLLY

logansargent: you're telling me we've BEEN waiting

oscarpiastri: i kinda miss having a secret like what do i hold over lando now?

landonorris: DON'T THINK I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN ABOUT THIS YOU WILL BE DEALT WITH PIASTRI

oscapiastri: okay babe

landonorris: you really take after your mum and it scares me

yourusername: you shouldn't have such good friends that i just can't help falling in love with so really this is your fault

landonorris: sure.... but you have a good point, i'm very happy it's alex of all people

yourusername: you've really come round fast since you realised that we'll pay for your stuff whenever we go out

landonorris: what can i say stuff tastes better when it's free

alexalbon: you literally make double what y/n and i make

landonorris: and i'm the younger sibling so you should TREAT ME BETTER

user42: yeah we all knew lando was the younger sibling but he's giving massive annoying baby brother vibes

alexalbon: and he wonders why we prefer oscar and logan

landonorris: i'm just going to pretend i didn't see that

alexalbon: but for real lando, thanks for being the most annoying norris and having such a lovely and cool (and smoking hot) sister - i appreciate it!

yourusername: i love you too babe

alexalbon: don't worry you'll get to drop the last name soon

yourusername: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

yourusername: i can't wait to be mrs. albon

landonorris: blocked.

user43: i can't believe we got the conclusion to the lando alex poster storyline

landonorris: it wasn't exactly the conclusion i thought it would be but i'll take it

yourusername: you love us really

alexalbon: really you were just manifesting this for like ten years

fin.

note: here's a wee post from brother's bff before the race because i need somehtign to distract me from my horrible NERVES - ENJOY!

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #alex albon instagram au #alex albon x reader #alex albon imagine #alex albon fluff #alex albon

[adriennebarnes]

Book Boyfriend Challenge

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: where Y/N records her fiancé reciting lines from her 3 book boyfriends.

Warning: 18+ lines used, spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: I’m also working on an alternative version where Y/N has no idea Charles has read her books and decides to recite the same lines to see how she reacts, let me know of you want that posted. This takes place in the same universe as The Drive Thru Test

Y/N has seen TikToks of couples doing this challenge so he has picked out three books, Throttled by Lauren Asher, Eleven Eleven by Micaela Smeltzer, and Camera Shy by Kay Cove.

“Charles, muñeco, Can you come here for a second?” Y/N called from their living room, the books lined up on the coffee table. Charles comes in from the kitchen.

“Yes, Mon ange?” Charles asked.

“I have another TikTok challenge for us to try.” Y/N said. Charles playfully rolled his eyes and sat besides her on the couch.

“What is the challenge, Mon ange?” Charles asked. Y/N smiled.

“Okay so I have 3 books here, they are my favorite book boyfriends, there’s Noah Slade, Finn Harvey, and Reid Astor Crawford, I personally love these books, but I want you to choose whatever lines from these 3 books and recite them.” Y/N asked. Charles picked up the Throttled book.

“You’ve read an F1 romance book?” Charles asked, flipping through the pages. “Is bandini supposed to be Ferrari? Have you read this thinking about me?” Charles kept asking questions.

“Okay so I’m not the only one who fan casts you as Noah Slade, I’ve seen people make TikToks casting you as Noah, Lewis Hamilton is Jax, Carlos Sainz is Santiago, I’ve seen very mixed opinions about Liam, sometimes is Sebastian Vettel, others it’s Max Verstappen…” Y/N was explaining but Charles cut her off.

“You actually like this Noah guy?!? He’s such an asshole in the beginning.” Charles said as he was reading the first few pages of the book. “I can’t believe people imagine me as Noah.” Charles mumbled. “I’m a nice guy!”

“Muñeco, just pick a line, I’ll let you read the book after we’re done.” Y/N said,

“Fine.” Charles said. It took Charles a few seconds to pick a perfect line. “Okay, I got it.” Charles cleared his throat. “I’m not like any of the guys you’ve been with before. I May not be your first fuck, but I might as well be.” Charles said and Y/N started giggling. “What’s so funny, ma Belle?”

“Nothing, it’s just you’re so cute, I can’t imagine you saying this. But I must admit, your accent makes it hot.” Y/N confessed, kissing Charles. They broke away and Charles said the other line he has chosen.

“You’re a naughty little thing.” Charles tried to say in a seductive matter and Y/N covered her face with her hands.

“Okay that was hot.” Y/N confessed and now it was Charles’s turn to giggle.

“Okay this line is so stupid. ‘But I fuck like an A-list porno.’ I don’t know what more shocking, that the author thought it was a good line, or that you actually like that, I see you blushing, Mon ange.” Charles said and Y/N just shook her head.

“I like the book! Also, lines like this work because it is fictional, if a real man tried to say this to me, I would laugh in their face. But again, I think your accent makes it acceptable.” Y/N said and Charles kissed her.

“Okay I’m keeping this book, I need to know what people imagine me act like.” Charles said, getting off the couch to place Throttled in their bedroom on his side of the dresser. He came back, sitting next to Y/N, and chose the next book, Eleven Eleven. He was skimming until… “HE JUST TURNED 21?!?” Charles asked yelling. “She’s 32, that feels illegal, Mon ange, come on.”

“If you forget about the age, the way he is considerate, sweet, yet kinda cocky is such a turn on for me.” Y/N said.

“Am I competing with your book boyfriends?” Charles asked,

“If you really had to ask…” Y/N muttered. Charles found the line he wanted to refute but first he wanted to have a heavy make out session so Y/N would have full effect of the line. He leaned in to kiss her, he slightly bites her lower lip to insert his tongue in her mouth, both tongues fighting for dominance, Y/N had her hands in his hair but Charles was the one to light pull on her hair, making her moan. They pulled away and Y/N was panting/breathing heavily. Charles had his hand on Y/N’s inner thigh, rubbing lightly.

“Don’t get shy on me now, not when my tongue has been all over this sweet pussy.” Charles said and Y/N just stared at him incredulously.

“I can’t believe you got me hot and bothered just to say that line.” Y/N pouted and Charles laughed. “But that line worked on me, can’t lie.” Charles then cupped Y/N’s face in his hands.

“No man is ever going to make you feel this good. Not the way I can.” Charles said, ending the sentence in a cute little smirk.

“I thought I was going to cringe at some of the lines, but so far so good. You’re doing great, mi vida.” Y/N said, giving Charles a quick peck before he picks up the last book. “I know a lot of people on GoodReads are not a fan but I really liked it, I related to Avery so much.” Y/N said with a pout and Charles faintly smiled while reading the first few pages.

“This Mason guy is an asshole.” Charles said.

“I know! Like who dumps someone in their birthday?” Y/N said. Charles nods in agreement and starts skimming a few pages.

“He’s a boudoir photographer?” Charles asked and Y/N nodded. “You wanna do a photo shoot like that for me?” Charles asked suggestively.

“Sure thing, muñeco, but you’re buying what you want me to wear for this photo shoot.” Y/N said and Charles kissed her temple, still skimming until he found the line.

“Okay, this is kinda long.” Charles cleared his throat and tried to make his voice sound a little deeper and raspy, and looks into Y/N’s eyes. “You’re not going to speak. I’m going to talk to you. I’m going to strip you down and point out all the things I love about your body. For 5 minutes, Lu are going to enjoy a man who you think fucks like a porn star, worshipping you.” Charles recited, not breaking eye contact. Y/N blushed and looked away.

“How the hell did Avery not melt at that. It is official, you can make all these book lines sexy as fuck.” Y/N said and Charles chuckled.

“Well I’m glad this is turning you one, Mon ange.” Charles said, he skimmed until he found another one. “I’m going to make you vocal during sex, I’m going to have you screaming when you come, trust me.” He recited.

“Mm, not as hot.” Y/N said.

“Yeah, I agree, you’re already vocal during sex.” Charles commented and Y/N swatted his shoulder. “What? You’re acting as if that’s not the truth.”

“Just pick the next line, muñeco.” Y/N said.

“I bet you’re so fucking wet for me right now my tongue could go swimming, sweet girl.” Charles said in a raspy voice and Y/N covered her face.

“You did not pick that.” Y/N said.

“But I did. Mon ange, do you real,y enjoy ready these smutty books?” Charles asked.

“Yes I do, I like a modern romance, the smut is a bonus. I find them entertaining though.” Y/N said.

“Mm, should I buy you more books like this then?” Charles asked, pulling Y/N onto his lap so she’s straddling him.

“If you want to, of course.” Y/N said. Charles smiled before kissing her.

“I’m going to read Throttled when I’m on the plane for my next race.” Charles said.

“Okay, let me know what you think.” Y/N said.

Liked by pierregasly and 3,562,924 others

charlesleclerc I discovered that Throttled by Lauren Asher is one of my fiancé’s favorite books so I’ve been reading it and I have a few questions. 1, if I’m Noah Slade despite actually being monegasque, does that mean Y/N is Maya even if she’s Latina and not a Spaniard 🤔? 2, I know I am flirty but I am definitely not as flirty, forward, and cocky as Noah. And 3, I’m a nice guys, a relationship guy, and a family guy, Noah was nothing like that in the beginning! Anyway, not finished yet but so far so good!

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user29 OMG HE’S READING IT!!!!!

user31 Y/N is my favorite WAG and now I have another reason

yourusername muñeco, you were supposed to call me with your thoughts on the book,

charlesleclerc well I’m currently thinking we should recreate that scene in Milano, you want me to choose the restaurant.

yourusername 😳🫣

user35 LORD PERCEVAL!

pierregasly I think you broke the internet, mate

use56 PETITION TO CAST CHARLES AND Y/N AS NOAH AND MAYA FOR A THROTTLE MOVIE!

user23 yes!! They’re perfect

lewishamilton am i supposed to be this Jax guy?

carlossainz55 and me Santiago?

yourusername yes and yes, that’s what TikTok says 🤭

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc

[girlokwhatever]

i have an emily idea cooking … ok so they played together at louisville (maybe reader is a year or two younger than em) and dated. they broke up and emily left for the wnba. reader transferred to uconn bc louisville reminded her too much of emily. two years later reader is drafted and ends up on the mystics with emily 🙈

(guys i’m switching up the draft picks a little bit to fit the plot ok i know washington wasn’t second pick)

𖤓✎⋆·˚ ༘ *✧.*ੈ✩‧₊˚ end of beginning,,

emily engstler x fem!ex!reader

“i am happy for you emily, truly i am.”

“then why are you breaking up with me? you don’t know that long distance won’t work.”

tears stream down both of your faces, a consequence of your decision to end things with emily. she committed to the draft that was only days away and was projected to rank very high. she was leaving louisville, which meant she was leaving you and the life you built together.

you weren’t mad at her at all. you really were happy for her and her accomplishments. it was going to break you to watch her leave and not come back, which is why you made the decision you did. selfishly, you needed to focus on your career. you needed to let her go so that the two of you could grow on your own.

“emily..”

“please don’t do this. we can try. i’ll try. please.”

you meant the world to emily, encouraged her to do great things and be a better person. she felt as if she owed the entire past year to you and your motivation that kept her going even through the darkest moments. you’d been a great comfort to her. there would be late nights when nothing else mattered but the feeling of you in her arms. she’d do anything for you.

she’d do anything for you.

“i can’t,”

your voice is barely above a whisper. you’re trying to hold back the sob threatening to spill over. sometimes the best choices were the hardest ones to make.

emily drags her hands down her face and peers over at you. you’re not looking at her anymore, head turned and eyes squeezed shut. she reaches out for you and cups her hand around the side of your face. when you lean into her touch she feels sick, finally letting the reality of having to let you go sink in.

“it’s okay. i get it, i know. i love you.”

she kisses your forehead as she stands, letting her hand drop back down to her side. you relish in the feeling before it’s gone because you know this will probably be the last time you feel it. that same feeling that still gives you butterflies.

“i love you too, em.”

that was two years ago.

you went to watch her get drafted, eyes teary and gleaming as you followed her figure walking to the stage after getting picked forth overall. you cheered and cried for her as if nothing had changed.

a few days after that you entered the transfer portal. everything reminded you too much of her. her name was still plastered on the cubby next to yours in the locker room, her scent still lingered in your sheets, her spot on the couch was left untouched, her absence in the home court was noted heavily.

you ended up signing with uconn. the last two years of your collegiate career were spent there, growing and expanding as not only a player but a person. the friends you made were phenomenal and helped you grieve with the ones you lost.

due to the extra work you were putting into your dream, you grew exponentially in popularity on social media along with your fellow teammate paige bueckers. you were close to everyone on the team, especially her. it led to people shipping the two of you much to your surprise.

you hadn’t dated anyone since emily.

but now it was your turn to be drafted. you committed to the draft alongside your two teammates nika and aaliyah. life was good. after two years of struggling and trying to find yourself, things were finally falling into place.

you’d gotten second overall pick in the first round. the washington mystics selected you and you were beyond grateful for the opportunity. you turned to give your coach a hug, noticing paige and azzi recording in the back with wide smiles on their faces.

it felt like a fever dream honestly. the rest of the night flew by, interviews and interactions seemingly only lasting seconds before you were pulled off to the next person. through the haze, you forgot what would be waiting for you once you arrived in washington.

or who.

emily watched the draft, nervous with anticipation to see where you’d end up. when she heard your name and washington mystics in the same sentence, her heart started pounding in her chest.

she never got over you. it made starting the league hard for her considering she lost her main pillar of love and support. her year with the indiana fever was full of intense moments and anger, always feeling like she wasn’t giving enough and kept having to prove herself.

the next year was even harder. she suffered a rough shoulder injury, leading to countless days of physical therapy and doctor visits. all without you.

to know that she’d see you again in only a short number of days was terrifying. you’d both be in training camp together which lasted weeks, spending day after day seeing each other. though it made her anxious, emily was also excited. she would get to see you again in all your glory, hopefully being able to smile and laugh together like you used to.

emily walked into the mystics gym, setting her bag down and standing to observe the room. there were a few people there already, you being one of them. her eyes immediately found you and your figure, so recognizable to emily.

you seemed to have this glowing aura around you. a smile was plastered on your face as you talked to ariel. you dribbled a basketball between your hands effortlessly, adjusting to the weight and getting used to your new surroundings. your eyes also wandered after you broke away from ariel, finding emily across the room.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss her. two years without her was a major struggle for you. sometimes, late at night, you wondered what it would’ve been like if you had never broken up with her. there were countless times when you regretted your choice. you never considered the fact that you could possibly be teammates again one day. certainly not so soon.

you wandered onto the court, leaving all your aimless thoughts behind. the rest of the trainees gathered with you and started a simple drill where you and a partner would take turns shooting and guarding one another.

by second nature you and emily found each other, shyly muttering a quick, “do you wanna be my partner?”

“yeah, i’d love to.” her heart was pounding at your words, imagining that maybe, just maybe, you missed her too. she smiled at your shyness, finding it ironic how your relationship had devolved.

emily was considerably taller than you, so shooting over her was not easy feat. at some moments you felt like she was letting you drain shots purposefully, even if she swore she wasn’t. you were even able to block a few of her shots, mostly when she kept her feet planted though.

after awhile and a few rotations, the coach offered a different drill. he split the group in two and let you scrimmage, you and emily somehow ending up on the same team.

it was giving you deja vu. anytime you’d get the ball emily was there either setting a screen or opening a path for you. it felt like she never left, like you never split, like you two were still the dynamic duo you were known to be at one point. like she was still your emily.

being here with her made you feel like your old self. the you from louisville, playing with the emily from louisville. in a time where you were both still in love and happy. another version of yourself was here, the best version of yourself.

after hours of sweating and nearly collapsing from being breathless, the day’s training was coming to an end. you drained one more three point shot, finally feeling satisfied with your performance. everyone cheered for you playfully as you collected your bag, quickly heading back to your car. you made it all the way to the parking lot before hearing a voice.

“you did really good today.”

you turned to see emily standing behind you, slightly disheveled and out of breath. she was smiling softly at you the same way she used to. it still made you flutter to this day, especially when you remember all the memories the two of you share.

“thank you, you too! your defense is still so good.”

“thank you,”

you both stood there in silence, not quite ready to break away. being around her offered you some sense of comfort in such an unfamiliar place.

“how’s paige?”

“paige? i mean, she’s good.”

“are you two, like.. together?”

“what- no. we’re just friends.”

emily nods, satisfied at the information. she’s slightly embarrassed for even asking, but she had to know. she had to know if you moved on with someone else.

“so then, is it okay if i take you out to dinner?”

“like, right now?”

“just tonight. you can shower and stuff of course.”

you don’t even have to think about your answer. you’d been wanting a moment like this for over a year. you missed her so much, too much. it was starting to affect you mentally. you’d wonder about her too often, having to fight some of the strongest urges to reach out to her and ask how she was doing.

“yeah, yeah. i’d really like that.”

she’s smiling, allowing it to reach her eyes as she waves you off. she felt like she was home again, even though she was still thousands of miles away. you were here, and that’s all she needed. any moment with you felt so right.

she took the time apart from you to grow as her own person, but now she was ready to grow again with you.

hopefully, you’d be ready too.

𖤓✎⋆·˚ ༘ *✧.*ੈ✩‧₊˚

guys hopefully the song makes sense for this fic

should i make a part two idk?!!?!

also i will spell check this tomorrow.

#emily engstler i love you #rea loves em #emily engstler fic #emily engstler smut #emily engstler imagine #emily engstler x reader #emily engstler #masc lesbian #lesbian #bisexual #wlw slay #wlw angst #wlw yearning #wlw post #i love my moots #lgbtqia #lgbtq

[generalsmemories]

HELLOO THEREE!! i love how dedicated you to jing yuan!! Can i have req for 1k event???

Fluff sentences "8" + fluff scenarios "4"!!

Thank you so much!!

I keep looking forward to your JY work!!

Bedrest

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ prompts: Not letting the sick one move an inch + playing with their hair until they fall asleep & "You're going to get sick if you keep coddling me." "And you're just going to get worse if I don't" || 1k event also requested by @/thetwinkims

✧ content: fluff, established relationship, i swear it's just fluff like for once there's no hidden angst over here.

✧ a/n: hello fellow jing yuan lovers, i'm still alive. this was once again written at 1 AM and not edited at all so if there's any writing mistakes, no there isn't. the initial plan was to keep this one in the drafts while I also write other WIPS to feel productive but i have honestly starved ya'll for months at this point i'm so sorry i'm back with milk.

have soft jing yuan just giggling, is he delirious, sleepy or just in love? we don't know.

If you could describe Jing Yuan in one word other than mischievous, it would be stubborn. The General of the Xianzhou Luofu is too stubborn for his own good, you don't know if this stubbornness of his is rooted in his desire to protect Luofu from danger, or from the fact that he just dislikes when people wish for him to do something in particular.

In any case, his stubborn and mischievous nature could very well be linked to that of a feline - which he himself has been told that he share similar traits of, despite being fully human.

You just wished that he would be less stubborn when it also came to his health.

"Jing Yuan, how many times have I told you to just lay down…!" you say whilst gritting your teeth, using almost every ounce of your strength to push the general back down on the bed. Jing Yuan merely lets out a quiet chuckle, still trying "playfully" wrangling with you. "I'm injured, not sick, dear." he says, to which you merely roll your eyes in exhaustion.

Jing Yuan truly loves it when you finally forego your usual gentle demeanour to a more brazen one. It's usually a side of you that only he can see, more so because he's the only one who can annoy you enough to make you realize that gentle words and probing won't get you anywhere.

"I don't think someone with a temperature of 40 degrees is only injured, darling. Now can you please just lay down before you reopen your wounds?" you plead once again, pressing the heels of your palms further down Jing Yuan's broad shoulder which shook in quiet laughter at your desperate struggle.

"I'm wide awake after having taken numerous naps because per your request though?" he informs, finally settling back down on the bed which finally allows you to lean back to sit on the edge of the bed again. "Last time you insisted that you were fine, I had to get Mimi to help haul you up the stairs because you could barely move." you remind him with a huff, Jing Yuan turning over on his side to face you, his already messy bangs sweeping over to the side to almost cover his right eye.

He didn't say anything, his arm was still laid behind his head to act as another form of cushion while the other rested lazily over the bedsheets. You could however see the golden eyes peering deeply into your own between the grey strands. A silent request that he didn't dare utter to you.

Jing Yuan rarely requested things from you after all.

With a sigh, you turn your body over and hoist your knees over the bed. Nudging Jing Yuan's arm aside with your hands, "Move them." you quietly demand, the same golden eyes that were peering at you blinking in slight confusion. "What for?" he questions softly while moving his arm upwards.

You don't reply, merely raising the thin blanket up to lay down beside Jing Yuan - making sure that you were hoisted a bit higher up than he was. You snake one arm around Jing Yuan's neck, a silent request to make him scoot closer to you.

When he's close enough, you hook your chin over his head while pressing his face towards your chest, the other arm wrapping around his hair. "There we go."

A few beats of silence passes by, you can feel Jing Yuan take in a few more breaths than normal whilst his eyelashes brush against the material of your shirt, the material thin enough to feel every movement of his face that's pressed against the upper part of your torso.

And then he's shaking in another quiet chuckle, "You're going to get sick if you keep coddling me at this point, darling." he says, and yet the arms that snake around your waist and the way he snuggles deeper into your chest indicates that he won't let you go now that he got you within his grasp.

He can tell that you're rolling your eyes yet again. You decide to answer his jab with a small peck on top of his head, mostly focusing your attention to the locks of hair in between your fingers, curling a particular strand around your finger whilst your other thumb is busy rubbing soothing circles at his hipbone. "And you're just going to get worse if I don't."

The general merely huffs out a laugh, replying to the peck on his head with kiss against your shirt. "You spoil me way too much." is the last thing he whispers, before he quickly falls into a deep slumber.

Because you both know that Jing Yuan truly never sleeps unless you're near him.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr imagines #star rail x reader #star rail x you #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #x reader #reader insert #generalmemories 1k event

[owlyjules]

I love love LOVE your watercolour work! Are you still using the strathmore paper in your faq or have you switched to something else? (I’m shopping for new paper rn - trying to work out what’s a tool problem & what’s a me problem!). And would you every consider doing a little walkthrough of your process? Do you work in lots of thin layers? Your illustrations really evoke lovely stories so I’m always happy to see them. Have a great day!

hello!! Sorry It took so long to reply anon! To start, Thank you so much! Alright now about my matierial, Not much has changed but I am not using Hot press paper (Saunder Waterford Hot press 300g/140lb) the most nowadays!

Its very similar to the Hot press from Strathmore I liked so either are not a bad choice! (And cold press from both brand are still a perfectly good choice! especially if you want more texture in your paper!)

Now for my process! I normally start with colored pencils lines for all my art. You can choose one color or many! I try not to choose too dark of a colour so that it blends in better.

Then its paint time! Watercolour is all about layers! (Like Onions, Like an Ogre) Patience is key with watercolours! Believe me I still to this day add way to much water/paint because I am excited to do a certain effect or want to get that wash right. But there is always a way to make it work! Half watercolours for me is to work with the little accidents water or paint caused. So I start with a pale color (often a soft yellow or orange or a blue but Go wild!)

and then I build on it!

and you just continue to do that, waiting in between paint layers for them to dry (Or almost dry depending of the effect) . You can work on another section during that time, or (My favourite thing) just sit back and watch a long 4 hours video essay.:) Then once the paint is done I normally define and add some details with Colored pencils again! Then I scan the art and will adjust a bit or go full on mix media in procreate! It depends on the piece! And then you have the full piece! Hope this helps!

#my art #the ghosts are asking #anon #tutorial #art tips #art help

[moonstruckme]

ok ok, so you said you wanted some ideas for a camp counselor James, so I am here to supply one! What if reader was teaching the kids lashings and knots, and when cutting the rope with a pocket knife, their hand slips and they cut themselves, so reader tells one of the kids to get the nurse (because their hand is bleeding and they can't stand from the grass) but the kid comes back with James instead (because the kid panicked and James is the first person she saw) and James helps reader get to the nurse while fretting over their hand

Thank you for requesting angel!

cw: blood

camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 827 words

A hiss escapes you as the knife slices across your hand. You drop it and your fist clenches closed on instinct, but not before the kids watching you see. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Did you cut yourself?” 

“Do we call 999?”

“No, it’s okay,” you say, keeping the pain out of your voice. “Accidents happen. This is why I’m the only one who gets to use the knife, see?” You take a second to pray it’s not bad, but when you open your hand blood spills onto the grass beneath. 

You squeeze it shut again, breathing through the wave of dizziness that nearly takes you under. The only thing worse than scaring your kids by bleeding all over the place would be traumatizing them by passing out on your way to the nurse. 

“Mia.” You look to the most responsible girl in your cabin with the most reassuring smile you can piece together. “Can you go get the nurse for me, please?” 

She nods, eyes wide, and sets off. You spend the next couple of minutes trying to distract your kids and yourself, but when an adult-sized shadow falls over you and you look up in relief you very nearly swoon for different reasons. 

“Hey.” James’ brow is puckered. It doesn’t suit him, you think, but he looks lovely anyways. He probably can’t help that. “I heard we’ve had an accident.” 

“Sorry,” Mia pipes up, “I couldn’t remember where the nurse’s office was, and I—” 

“It’s okay,” you tell her, making your voice slow and soothing to combat her squeakish one. “You did your best, and I appreciate it.” 

James flashes her a smile about ten times more effective than your own. “You have good instincts. Really, no one’s more equipped to help your fearless leader than me.” He sets a hand on your shoulder, softening his voice as he leans down close to you. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m worried I’m gonna pass out,” you admit. 

“Can I have a look?” 

“It’s bleeding a lot, James. I don’t want to open it.” 

“Alright, you’re okay. Let’s get up.” James uses his grasp on your shoulder to pull you to his chest, holding your elbow with his other hand as he stands the both of you up. The change in altitude makes you immediately woozy, and a quick sigh escapes you as he scrambles to get a better grip, one arm banding around your waist. “Do you need me to carry you?” 

“No, sorry. I think I just…sorry.” 

You expect him to tease you, but maybe you should have thought better of him. “What’re you sorry for? You’re alright, lovely, just let me know if you change your mind. Or just collapse on me, and I’ll get the point.” 

He starts walking you towards the nurse’s office, your unsturdy legs following behind you. James’ body is warm and solid. You can feel the flex of his bicep pressed tight to your back, and the material of his shirt is softly worn. You don’t realize you’ve dropped your cheek onto it until you register the chatter you’re leaving behind and pick your head up. 

“The kids,” you murmur, making to turn around. James keeps you held to him, but stops. 

“Hey, guys,” he calls back to them, “my cabin’s in arts and crafts with Charlie, do you wanna go down there and tell her I sent you?” 

There’s a few excited calls of agreement, and James waits until your campers start heading in that direction before you both continue. 

“You cut yourself with your knife?” he asks, peering over your head to see where you’ve tucked your injured hand tight to your chest. It’s still dripping blood as you walk, though you think slower than before. “Is it deep?” 

“A little.” You sigh. The sun feels hotter than it did a few minutes ago, and yet James’ touch has the beginnings of a shiver curled up at the base of your spine. “I think I probably scarred my kids for life.” 

You can feel James’ chuckle reverberate through his chest. “Don’t worry, they’ll be fine. Kids are hardy, especially these ones. One of my boys put hot sauce in another’s coke yesterday and the kid barely even flinched. Drank the whole thing.” 

You feel your lips tugging upwards. “Well, my girls are better than your boys.” 

He huffs a laugh. “I could so prove you wrong, but I don’t make a habit of arguing with the wounded.” 

James gets you to the nurse’s office in one piece. You expect him to go then, but he insists on staying to make sure you’re okay. He keeps you tucked into his side, scrubbing his hand up and down your arm intermittently and kissing your hair when the nurse has to clean your cut. He lets you leave your cheek resting on his chest, and you still feel dizzy for a myriad of reasons, but your injury is no longer one of them.

#camp counselor!james potter #camp counselor!james potter x reader #james potter au #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x self insert #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter hurt/comfort #james potter h/c #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter drabble #james potter blurb #james potter one shot #james potter oneshot #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #the marauders #hp marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader

[dambaepuff]

hey hi, could i make a request? Im happy to see another good author starting :) u also seem very nice. could i request a yoongi x preferably fem!reader? if you want you can make it a genderneutral fic. my idea was a scenario were one of them is jealous, i thought of it being her jealous of him, over something stupid, but not in a toxic way like yk just pure jealusy mixed with insecurities. And they have a little petty argument and like it ends with smut i mean they make up to eachother that way :P like smut mixed with fluff at its purest. also, i am really curious to see how u write yoongi, i see many authors making him cold and tough but i believe that he is a very caring softie haha, by the morning wood headcanons, i think you got him very well ;) thank u in advance

REGRETS (m)

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x FEM!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, smut, one shot, request, established relationship

Warnings: jealousy, insecurities, a petty argument, depictions of sex, crying, emotional, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, bodily fluids, penetration (vaginal), a bit of praise, light biting, squirting

Word count: 5k

Summary: uhhh idk dude just read the request that’s pretty much it

A/N: UGH I LOVE THIS IDEA!! I don’t have much experience with writing angst so this was a really nice exercise. Thank you sooo so much for all the kind words, it’s what keeps me writing. I’m also a sucker for soft Yoongi so this is right up my alley. (Also this is not proofread so lmk if there’s any mistakes or anything)

Thursday night, it’s quiet outside. You’re trying to watch a movie with Yoongi. Key word trying. His hand has been gently rubbing your thigh for a few minutes now, whenever he tries sliding it up to tease you, you grab it and put it back onto his lap. He’s clearly trying to get you heated, but it’s having quite the opposite effect. Lately you’ve felt quite out of it, your lack of confidence causing you to avoid intimacy. With Yoongi being the gentleman he is, he always accepts it when he realizes you’re not in the mood and he moves on. However, you’re starting to doubt his ability to keep going like this. What if he realizes you aren’t satisfactory to him anymore? He could easily find someone else who would be all over him in seconds.

Replaceable. That’s how you’ve been feeling lately. He could have anyone he wants, so why you? “Are you not feeling it tonight?” Yoongi’s voice startles you out of your thoughts. “Huh? Oh. No I’m sorry.” You respond, your voice growing quieter with the end of the sentence. “That’s okay, c’mere.” He mumbles before pulling you into his chest, his hand soothing down your back.

‘Will he stay with me if I keep pushing him away like this?’ Is what you keep asking yourself. On one hand you’re afraid he’ll stop loving you if you stop showing him affection. And on the other hand, you’ve been so self conscious lately about your body and if you’re doing things right you don’t know if it’s worse to ruin the relationship by pushing him away or by not being good enough. ‘Do I even deserve to be with him at this point?’

Friday, 4:37PM. You got off work early today so you decided to stop by Yoongi’s studio. He’s still working so you’re lounging around on one of the couches inside of the room. The two of you had made plans to get dinner together when he finishes up for the day which you’re really looking forward to.

A short blurry figure appears at the studio door, they raise their hand up and place three quiet knocks onto the glass. Yoongi gets up with a huff and opens the door. In front of him stands a familiar woman, you can’t quite remember her name, but you’ve seen her around the company building before.

“Here’s your coffee Suga!” She says in a cheery tone. Her eyes land on you and her smile falls a bit. “Oh, I didn’t know you would be here. Sorry I didn’t get you anything.” She apologizes with a light bow of her head. You dismiss her with a wave of your hand before going back to fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. She turns her attention back to Yoongi who is setting his drink down onto his desk. “Hey Suga, a few of us are going to that barbecue place down the street for dinner and drinks tonight. Do you guys wanna come with?” She asks with a tilt of her head, her long black hair swaying with the movement.

“Uhh, yeah?” He looks at you quickly for confirmation to which you nod your head lightly. “Yeah. Sure we’ll come.”

Yoongi continues chatting with the girl. She casually leans against the door frame, the conversation between them flowing oh so easily. ‘It took me ages to be able to talk to him that smoothly. Why couldn’t I be like her?’ You think to yourself, trying your best to not let your irritation show.

He bids her farewell and sits back down at his desk. For the remaining time you spend in his studio all you can look at is him. Your gaze burns holes into his side profile, tracing each curve of his features over and over again. Why would a man whose heart only knows kindness, whose eyes and soul are so understanding of everything be with you? Your being is rotten with unforgiving bitterness, you seethe at every imperfection like a nun enraged by sin. Why would he want you?

He’s like a wild flower. He needs to be pollinated by the love and kindness of a bee to bloom, yet he stays with you, a caterpillar feeding off of him, biting off his flesh for your gain. Eating away at him and leaving nothing. Maybe you aren’t even a caterpillar. They can eventually turn into a beautiful creature with wings of eyeful colors, yet you can’t become anything more than what you are. You’re stuck in a vicious cycle, devouring every resource without paying any mind to the fact there will be nothing left when you’re done. What does he get for loving you if you can’t be of use? You can’t make him bloom.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)!” You snap out of your thoughts, the reality around you giving you whiplash. Yoongi is kneeling in front of you, holding your jacket out. “Let’s go, we’ll be late.” You try to take it from his hands, but instead of giving it to you he holds it up so you can slip your arms inside. Once it’s on you he turns you around and zips it up for you. “Okay, let’s go.”

As you’re walking down the long hallways towards the elevators, Yoongi notices something odd. You usually grab onto his hand the moment you start walking somewhere together, but your hand is tucked away in your pocket now. He gently pulls it out and intertwines your fingers together. You can’t bring yourself to grip onto him like usual, instead you limply keep your hand at your side, letting him hold it. He’s a bit confused by this, but nevertheless he keeps holding you, his grasp only growing tighter in an effort to reassure you.

Yang Sunhee. Her name popped up in your head the moment she sat down across from you and Yoongi at the long wooden table. She’s been leading the conversation at your part of the table for a while now, mostly talking to Yoongi. To her credit she has tried to include you into the conversation a few times, but you didn’t really give her much to work with so she gave up.

You’ve been pushing your food around your plate for a while now. It’s mostly pieces of meat Yoongi placed down onto it for you, your favorite in fact. You just can’t get yourself to even place anything into your mouth, anxiety squeezing your throat so tightly you can barely even swallow your own saliva.

Sunhee is laughing at something, her eyes bright and her large smile hidden away behind a polite hand. Yoongi is laughing too, maybe not as hard as her, but he’s still laughing. ‘Why am I not the one making him laugh right now? Am I not funny anymore?’

As you’re glaring down at your food you feel a warm hand make contact with your shoulder. “You wanna go home?” Yoongi asks quietly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Yes please.” You breathe out, barely audible. On the drive home Yoongi tries asking what’s wrong multiple times, but all he gets in response is a simple “I just don’t feel too well.”

It’s been a few days now since you had dinner with Yoongi’s coworkers. He realized something was wrong so he’s been giving you some space. To be quite honest you aren’t sure if the space is helping or making it worse. After spending the whole day quietly sobbing to yourself in bed you decide to see what he’s up to. You find him sitting in the living room watching some sort of documentary and looking like he’s about to fall asleep. One of his cheeks is squished against a pillow and his hair is going on all the wrong directions. He looks adorable, your heart almost breaks in two knowing this is who you’ve been pushing away lately.

Taking a seat next to him, he lifts up his blanket so you can use it too. Just as you’re getting sleepy as well his phone pings on the coffee table. Instinctively you reach down for it so you can hand it to him, but when you see the contact name annoyance squeezes at your chest.

Yang Sunhee

Sent a message

“Why is she texting you?” The question slips from your mouth before you can even think it through. “I don’t know, let me see.” He responds while extending his hand out for the phone. You peer over at the screen, shamelessly trying to see what she sent. “Ah it’s just the schedule for next week.” He says and likes the message before setting his phone back down. Now you feel a bit guilty. Why were you questioning the intentions of this woman? She’s his employee after all.

Yoongi’s large hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb gently gliding over your cheekbone. “I know that look, what’s wrong baby?” He asks, his dark eyes skimming your face in search for answers. “It’s nothing.” You respond a bit too quickly, your tone stiff. The corner of Yoongi’s lip quirks up. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

Your eyes shoot open, “N-no!” you sputter out a weak defense. His hand slides down to your chin, the grip tightening a bit. His smirk spreads into a smile which angers you. He thinks this is funny?

“Don’t fucking touch me right now.” You say in a way harsher manner than you intended, tearing his hand away from your face. A flash of hurt runs over Yoongi’s face, his smile instantly falling. “Don’t look at me like that! I just- I need a moment right now.” You say in an apologetic tone. “You need a moment? I’ve been giving you a moment for days now. What about me? I keep trying so hard and you don’t show an ounce of being grateful. What’s your problem?” His tone gets louder as he talks, anger evident in his facial expressions.

“Problem? Oh it’s a problem now that I can’t always feel one hundred percent happy? Go sleep with some happy drugged out whore then if that’s what you want!” Without realizing it your tone has risen to a yell, you’re standing now, no longer in the comfort of warm blankets on the couch. “Don’t yell at me!” He yells back, tears beginning to brim his eyes.

“You’re yelling too asshole! Oh you’re gonna cry? Go cry to Sunhee, maybe she can suck your dick to make it better if you can’t go a week without me sucking it!” The moment you finish the last sentence a silence falls over the apartment. Yoongi stares at you wide eyed, unable to form a single sentence.

He looks like a kicked puppy, his eyes watery and his hands trembling. Realizing you went to far the only thing that pops up in your head is leaving the apartment for a bit. You speed walk to the front door, tugging your shoes on quickly and pulling a random jacket on. “Hey, hey! Where are you going?” Yoongi follows you once he realizes what you’re doing. Unable to look at his face you grab your keys and walk out, slamming the door behind you.

Not knowing where to go you walk to the nearest park. Taking a seat on one of the benches you stare up at the moon. “Why did I say that?” You mumble to yourself, tears stinging at your eyes. Your throat contracts, guilt choking you. There’s no holding back now, you let your sobs loose, tears running down your face uncontrollably.

“(Y/N)? Is that you?” A soft voice calls out to your right. Your head shoots up, trying to find the source of the sound. There stands Sunhee, she seems to be in her pajamas with a puffer jacket thrown on top. Her hair is a mess and she’s holding a leash. A little white dog sniffs around near her legs, you assume it’s her’s.

“What’s wrong?” She asks as she sits down next to you. “Ah don’t worry about it.” You mumble, sniffling lightly. “You’re so pretty (Y/N), I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look good while they cry before.” Sunhee says with a genuine smile. “I- uh what?” You tilt your head to the side in confusion. “If I didn’t have a girlfriend I’d be jealous of Suga for having a girlfriend as pretty as you.” She giggles lightly.

“WHAT?” The question comes out harsher than you intend, the whole situation confusing you. “Listen, if you ever leave Suga just give me a call.” She says with a playful wink. You laugh in disbelief, your tears completely gone now. “You’re funny Sunhee.” You say, still sniffling lightly. “I’m not joking, but thank you.” She giggles along with you.

“Now why are you outside so late?” She asks while pulling her dog up into her lap. “I had a fight with Yoongi, I didn’t really know where else to go. I’m kind of scared to face him right now.” You answer truthfully. “Girl, have you seen how he looks at you? That man is a goner, I’m sure whatever you argued about isn’t that bad. You should go home and apologize, you can talk it through.” She says while giving you an encouraging smile. “You think so?” You ask quietly. “I know so.”

Even with Sunhee’s encouragement you’re still unsure. Guilt wracks through your whole body, pressing down on your insides and making you nauseous. You try to be as quiet as possible when you enter the apartment, but the sound of the heavy front door closing and jingling of keys betrays you. Just as you’re taking your shoes off you hear shuffling down the hallway. Yoongi’s dark figure emerges, you’re ready to hear something nasty from him, but instead you’re met with two warm arms wrapped around you.

“Thank god you’re safe.” He mumbles before kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry Yoongi, I’m so sorry baby. Please don’t leave me. I didn’t-“ you’re cut off by a hiccup, your tears returning. “I didn’t mean to say any of that. Please, please don’t leave me I’ll never do that again…” You sob into his chest. “Shhhhh, I know you didn’t mean it, I should’ve done some things differently too.” His hand softly pets your head.

“I’ve been trying to figure out why you’ve been acting so weird lately and I think I get it now. You look at her like she killed your dog. You know she’s a lesbian right?” You can’t help but laugh a bit at that. “Yeah I kind of found that out just now.” You mumble, your fingers tangling into the material of his shirt. “Why don’t you like her?” You can feel him softly smile against your hair as he asks the question.

“I don’t know I just-“ You try to form the right words, but they won’t come. “Ugh! She’s just so pretty and she’s really open, it feels like she’s perfect and has everything you could need and I’m just sort of me? I don’t know, it’s stupid. I’m just projecting.” Yoongi listens intently to everything you say while he takes your jacket off. “Lately I’ve felt like the shell of who I was when you met me, you know? I’m just sort of bleh- and every other woman around me seems to have her shit togehter.” A tear runs down your cheek and Yoongi chases it away with his thumb.

“It’s why I’ve been avoiding having sex lately. I just feel gross and ugly while you… you look like you were sculpted by the ancient Greeks. You need a Hera to your Zeus. I’m like a satyr or something!” You let out a bitter laugh, trying to mask your feelings. “Hmm I think we’re more like Orpheus and Eurydice. Except I don’t want to lose you the way he lost her. They were such perfect lovers, yet there was something tragic about them. What’s love without tragedy?” He softly spoke, continuing to wipe your tears. You let out a genuine laugh and hit his chest lightly. “You idiot! You don’t get it.”

“I think I at least partially get it. I mean hell you make my knees weak whenever you look me in the eye woman, and we’ve been dating for years! I’d go to the pits of hell for you a million times more than Orpheus if it meant having a bit more time to spend with you. There’s no other person that could fulfill your role in my life as well as you do. I love you for you, you’re my muse. My light.” He places a ginger peck onto your forehead.

Love and desire suddenly flood through you, grabbing the collar of his shirt you pull him into a rough kiss. A few more tears make their way past your eyelids, but these ones of relief and joy rather than sadness and frustration. Yoongi gladly accepts your advances, kissing you back firmly. He barely wastes any time trying to get his tongue intertwined with yours. Your interwoven muscles becoming a metaphor for your souls combining together, the act of physical intimacy projecting your consciousness into one being, content and whole.

One of your hands shoot up to grip his hair a bit tighter than necessary which makes him release a deep moan. He pants against your lips, trying to catch his breath, but unable to fully separate your bodies. As he had endured yearning for you such a torturous amount, how could he let you go now?

He presses you flat against the door, holding you down chest to chest. His cold hands slide up your shirt, the contrast of temperature making you shiver. Caressing the skin of your stomach so lightly it tickles, he snakes one of his hands behind your back, swiftly unclipping your bralette in one movement. You let it drop to the floor, the only thing on your mind right now being the feeling of his body on yours. With his hands lightly ghosting over your breasts now, you shudder each time one of his fingers brushed against your nipples. Slowly he pulls your shirt off, the cold night air bites at your skin making your nipples harden. Instinctively your arms shoot up to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you. He firmly grips your wrists and pins them down above your head.

Now fully exposed to him, he looks you in the eyes before licking a fat stripe from the area between your breasts to your neck. Lightly blowing onto the wet part of your skin, you take in a deep breath from the sensation. He begins to trail kisses down to your chest, letting go of your hands so he can bring you as close to him as possible. You tug at his hair softly as he mouthes at ode of your breasts, his tongue lightly teasing the soft bud. He groans softly before kissing down lower so he can get onto his knees.

He kneels before you know, unashamed of the submissive position he’s in. His teeth occasionally graze your stomach between sloppy open mouthed kisses. Looking up at you through his lashes, Yoongi starts undoing your pants. He pushes them down as if they’re getting in the way and moves his kisses down to your thighs. His uncalculated mouth moves dangerously close to your clothed cunt. Hovering over it he purposefully breathes through his mouth so you can feel his warm breath on your skin. You gasp when he suddenly pressed his nose against your pussy and inhales deeply. You can peel the tips of your ears heating up from embarrassment, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Ugh, fuck how I missed this part of you.” He groans as he kisses over the thin fabric. Finding your clit almost immediately he starts to roll his tongue against it through your panties. Your arousal and his saliva mix together in the material causing an uncomfortable need for real contact.

“Yoongi, take it off already…” you whisper to him, brushing his bangs out of his face. Looking up at you with a cheeky smirk he grabs onto the hem of your underwear with his teeth, making sure to lightly graze your sensitive skin with them as he pulls down. Your panties don’t even have the chance to reach the floor and his mouth is already on you again. He runs his tongue through your folds, making you instinctively angle your hips to give him more access. Heedlessly circling your clit with his tongue, he occasionally sucks on it or flicks it. You’re unsure if his mouth is glistening from his own saliva or from your wetness, but the sloppy noises he’s making are causing you to involuntarily buck your hips into his mouth.

“You’re so beautiful like this, my sweet girl.” He mumbles as he pulls away, nuzzling his head into your thigh. Replacing his tongue with his fingers, you let out a quiet moan when he slips them inside of you. “I love having you like this, only for me to see. You know I’d never do this for anyone else, right?” He emphasizes the question by pressing his fingers down against your sweet spot. ”Shit, Yoongi. I love you so much, no one makes me cum like you do.” Your response comes out in a dragged out whine.

Satisfied with your reply his mouth returns to your clit while his fingers work you open. The combination of sensations makes an orgasm built up in your abdomen fast. “Yoon- Yoongi, I’m gonna ah- I’m gonna cum!” You moan out, trying to warn him. This only encourages him to go faster as an orgasm ripples through you in harsh waves, your head falling back against the door as your eyes roll into the back of your head. You spasm slightly as he continues to work your cunt, trying to pull him away so he doesn’t overstimulate you.

He licks off your juices from his fingers, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. As soon as he’s back on his feet you go in for a kiss, leaning on him for support while still coming down from your high. He refuses to let your lips part as he leads you to the bedroom, his shirt and pants getting lost along the way.

“Lay down baby.” He mumbled against your lips as he led you to the bed. Kneeling down between your legs he made sure you were comfortable on your pillow. No matter how basic, missionary was always the best when you needed to express your love sexually. Parting your lips he pulls you down a little so your thighs are pressed together. He grabs his erect cock out of his underwear, not even bothering to get rid of the boxers. Pumping it a few times he gives you a dopey look, a lazy smirk spreading on his face.

“You ready?” He rasps out, rubbing the tip of his cock against your swollen clit, mixing his precum together with the aftermath of your previous orgasm. “A little too ready.” You replied, running a hand through your hair. “Mmm I can tell.” He teases while spreading the natural lubricant over his cock. Slowly he pressed the tip in, “Fuck, it’s going in so easily, o barely had to prep you. You really want it, don’t you?” his brows crease together in pleasure as he slowly bottoms out. “Yes, fuck Yoongi I want your cock so bad.” Your hand shoots up to grab onto his shoulder, biting your lip at the fullness.

“Please, (Y/N). Can I move?” He murmured, holding onto your hips tightly. “Yes, fuck me Yoongi.” You replied, grabbing his face to place a wet kiss onto his lips. He let out a low moan as he started thrusting into you, the warmth and wetness of your cunt feeling better each time he fucked it. You lightly squeezed your walls on purpose knowing it drives him crazy. “Oh my- ah shit I won’t last long at all if you do that.” He said breathily, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. You hooked one of your legs onto his hips, pulling him forward so he’s pressed into your cunt as deeply as possible. The both of you groaned at that, as soon as you let go he started thrusting into you with a quicker pace. His movements rapidly increased with each slap of skin that echoed throughout the space, his head thrown back. That look on his face means he’s absolutely lost in please and that makes you proud. He molds so perfectly inside you it makes all of your doubts melt away, it’s like he was made for you.

Matching the pace of his thrust to his fingers flicking your clit, Yoongi can swear he can feel you pulsating around him. “Ah, fuck (Y/N) I think I’m gonna cum already. Shit I’m sorry it just feels too good.” He groans, the already pink tips of his ears darkening. “It’s okay, go ahead baby, cum inside me.” You breathily respond, continuing to moan with each of his thrusts. He speeds up before abruptly stopping, the feeling of his warm seed filling you up making you clench around his cock. “Wait, shit, shit run my pussy please I’m so close too.” His fingers immediately speed up on your clit, furiously flicking it as your abdomen tightens again. As the hot white pleasure rips through your whole body, making your muscles spasm you hear a wet noise. Looking down the moment you can open your eyes you see Yoongi’s lower stomach covered in a clear liquid.

“Did you just make me squirt?” You laugh in disbelief. “That’s a first.” He mumbles before pulling his cock out, various liquids gliding down your ass. “I’ll go get a towel. He quickly gets up, trying his best not to make any of his surroundings wet.

As the two of you are laying in bed, your warm baked bodies pressed together, you feel Yoongi’s chest vibrate as he speaks up. “From now on, you always have to tell me when something’s bothering you, okay?” He softly says, stroking your hair. “Okay.” You whisper back. “Promise?” He questions while raising his pinky finger up, you lock yours with his, pressing your thumbs together. “Promise.”

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts x fem!reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts x you #bts smut #bts angst #suga x reader #suga x y/n #suga x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #bts x y/n #bts x female reader

[sterredem]

GIRLFRIEND

Olivia Rodrigo x Fem!Ferrari!Driver!Reader

Face claim Pinterest girls

Warning Gay couple(?), not proofread

Summary When you try to hard launch your relationship it seems to be that no one believes you.

A/N I like this a lot. It is a bit lengthy but I love it. Also I removed Carlos Sainz because I needed a place and Ferrari was the best with the options. So the reader will replace him.

Also I tried something new with writing for a girl so lmk know if you want more fem!driver x famous girl fics!

I hope y’all like it!

Don’t forget to Repost, comment and give Feadback! It helps a lot!

Instagram

Liked by Yourusername and 6.835.836 others

OliviaRodrigo Thank you so much Antwerp you were a dream! Amsterdam here we come!

View all 10.836 comments

Conangray She’s on the moon!

OliviaRodrigo 🌕🌙

SabrinaCarpenter Pop princess

OliviaRodrigo Says you

Yourusername Wow what a beauty

Yourusername Loved seeing you! Liked by author

User1 I GOT TO SEE YOU!

User2 Anyone saw Y/n’s deleted comments?!

User3 OMG YES! I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST ME!

User4 god, she’s hot

User5 Wait Y/n went? How she has a race tomorrow?!

User6 multitasking queen

User7 I love you💜

User8 I love her friendship with other singers💕

User9 How does she know Y/n? I am genuinely curious because I love them both.

User10 They met through Gracie because Gracie and Y/n went to the same school and then Gracie introduced them. Now they are really good friends

User12 I LOVED THE SHOW!

User13 you killed it!

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Instagram

Liked by OliviaRodrigo and 2.736.936 others

Yourusername Had a great time at the GUTS Tour! Thank you so much for the invite liv!Also some pictures with Ferrari stud bc I drive cars or something…

View all 12.836 comments

OliviaRodrigo I’m glad you enjoyed it! Liked by author

OliviaRodrigo You are so hot

Charles_Leclerc …Driving cars or something????

Charles_Leclerc also don’t we have a race tomorrow?

Yourusername Yes! But I can multitask!

Scuderia_Ferrari … were glad you enjoyed your time…? And good that you wore the jacket and posted your car…?

Yourusername Exactly!

User1 OMG YOU ARE A LIVIE?!

Yourusername YES! Always and forever!

User2 LIV?!?! WHAT IS THIS?!

User3 OMG I STOOD NEXT TO YOU!!

User4 Love the outfit!

User5 anyone see Olivia’s deleted comments liked by 1.837 others

User6 Not the thing about the cars😂 so unserious🤣

User7 I love you!

User8 Aren’t you tired? You have media day tomorrow and the day after FP1 and FP2

Yourusername As I said ✨multisasking✨

User9 I love her friendship with Olivia!

User10 SHE WENT TO THE TOUR?!

User11 she really is a girls girl

User12 not the work with fun😂

User13 IM IN LOVE WITH YOU!

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Instagram

Liked by OliviaRodrig and 1.173.736 others

Yourusername Forza Ferrari! A little photo dump of Imola before Monaco. Saw a lot of red, but it suits me so that’s a plus.

View all 9.736 comments

Scuderia_Ferrari Forza Ferrari!

Charles_Leclerc Red!

User1 gorgeous

User2 Why is Olivia liking a post that has nothing to do with her?!

User3 prolly because they are friends

User4 Good luck in Monaco!

User5 ❤️

User6 P5! In the points!

User7 So happy to see more women in motorsports!

User8 What do you think about Charles adopting Oscar?

User9 You’re so pretty!

User10 Red does really looks good on you!

User11 good luck this weekend!

User12 I love the GenZ energy

User13 Favourite driver ever

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Instagram

Yourusername posted a story

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Twitter

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Instagram

Liked by OliviaRodrigo and 2.836.837 others

Yourusername P3🏆 happy with the results and very happy for Charles and the team! Congratulations!

View all 9.736 comments

Charles_Leclerc couldn’t have done it without you!

Scuderia_Ferrari A grat race again Y/n!

OliviaRodrigo Great job! Liked by author

User1 P3!

User2 Great job! Ready for the next posium!

User3 Olivia is earlier than me and I have notifications on?!

User4 so true! I love their friendship!

User5 Our racing queen!

User6 💜💕❤️

User7 not her petting a picture of her and Olivia in her racing post😂

User8 she’s so pretty!

User9 She looked so happy!

User10 Anyone know why she was giggling on her phone so much?!

User11 maybe she has a boyfriend?!

User12 OMG THAT WOULD BE SO AMAZING!!

User13 Were up for a great season!

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Instagram

Liked by OliviaRodrigo and 4.736.836 others

Yourusername Had a fun time. Met this girl, she kept following me around, her name is Olivia or something… she is cool I guess. Did some cool things, visited some cool places. Being aesthetic and all…

View all 10.735 comments

OliviaRodrigo Mean?!

Yourusername Who are you again?

User1 I love their friendship your honour

Charles_Leclerc I am just going to be silent and not ask what is happening in those pictures

Yourusername That’s great

User2 the caption😂

User3 Very aesthetic indeed👍

User4 I love them😍

User6 Hotttttt

User7 Paris and Ferrari, the best combination!

User8 museum twice, painting picnic AND Paris?! What is going on?!

User9 is it just me or does this look like a date…?

User10 OMG YOURE RIGHT! AND ALSO THE INSTA STORY!

User11 Seriously? They’re just friends and they both don’t like girls

User12 they’re so pretyyyyyyyy

User13 💕💜❤️😍

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Twitter

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Instagram

Liked by OliviaRodrigo and 4.936.836 others

Yourusername I alsways love hanging out with the best people in my life. And this is an other instance of that. I loved hanging out with you @OliviaRodrigo. Thank you for being there for me💕

View all 14.736 comments

OliviaRodrigo I love hanging out with you too💕 I will always be there for you💜❤️

Yourusername 💕💜❤️

User1 Them using each other’s colours😭😭

User2 I love their friendship!

User3 awwwww

User4 they are friendship goals

User5 so pretty

User6 friendship dates are the best!

User7 so cute

User8 why does this kind of look like a soft/hard launch?!?!

User9 It really doesn’t. They are just posting about their friendship, she even said it in the caption!

Charles_Leclerc 🤦‍♂️

Yourusername shut up

User10 wait what happened?!

User11 why does this kind of look like a couple??

User12 gorgeous women liked by author and OliviaRodrigo

User13 In love with both

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Twitter

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Instagram

Liked by Yourusername and 5.735.836 others

OliviaRodrigo A little break between shows and city’s 💜💕❤️ happy to be home

View all 18.735 comments

Yourusername 💜💕❤️ liked by author

Yourusername You’re so hot🥵

SabrinaCarpenter Hope you enjoy your brake! Liked by author

User1 Friendship goals!!

User2 They are the cutest friends ever!

User3 Her wearing red is so cute! Girls supporting girls!

User4 I love them!

User5 the 5th picture🥵

User6 anyone saw Y/n’s deleted comment???

User7 I thought it was just me’

User8 Again this really looks like a hard/soft launch!!

User9It doesn’t!!!

User10 I hope you enjoy your brake! You deserve it!

User11 not her calling Y/n her home 🥲

User12 the 4th pic is so cute!!

Yourusername 🤦‍♀️ liked by author

User13 WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!

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Instagram

Liked by OliviaRodrigo and 8.986.836 others

Yourusername I had an amazing time with MY GIRLFRIEND and I really enjoys the break. You are my person, my others half. Even if the entire word things we are just best friends EVEN WHEN WE SOFT LAUNCH AND HARD LAUNCH. I love you very much and I am very happy to have you in my life. 💜💕❤️

View all 125.736 comments

OliviaRodrigo Gorgeous girl, my girl, MY GIRLFRIEND

Yourusername always and forever

Charles_Leclerc Finally!! It took long enough!

Yourusername so true!

SabrinaCarpenter So happy for you two!

Yourusername Thank you Sab - me and liv

GracieAbrams Don’t forget you met through me!

Yourusername We could never

OliviaRodrigo Yeah cause Gracie keeps telling us

User1 I love them already

ConanGray Now I can finally post all the photos of you two!

OliviaRodrigo Please do!

Scuderia_Ferrari so happy for you two!

Landonorris does this mean I can get tickets??

Yourusername no

Lilymhe Why wasn’t I informed about this? I thought we were friends!

Yourusername we are! I’m sorry but almost no one on the grid knows! Can I make it better with GUTS tickets…?

Lilymhe …yes. You are forgiven after I have gone to the concert

OliviaRodrigo and where is my opinion in this?

Yourusername with mine

OliviaRodrigo Of course my love

Lilymhe I love y’all already

User2 ONG WHAT?!?!

User3 So they were trying to tell us this whole time???…

Yourusername yes

OliviaRodrigo yes

Charles_Leclerc yes

SabrinaCarpenter yes

ConanGray yes

GracieAbrams yes

User3 OMG HI!

User4 SO CUTE!

User5 Hottest couple for real

User6 wait so how long were you two together??

Yourusername Around 1 year. Our anniversary was on the 3 year anniversary of SOUT

User7 WAIT. so you got together on 2 years SOUR?! Cute!

OliviaRodrigo Yes!

User8 I was right!!!!!!

Yourusername and the only one at that

User9 I’m so sorry!

User10 your girlfriends hot

User11 cutest couple ever

User12 I DID NOT expect this

User13 THIS IS WHY THEY USE THE EMOJIS! Red is for Y/n purple is for Olivia and the pink hards of two is for them together! Liked by author

User13 SHE LIKED

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#formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 polls #lando norris #olivia rodrigo x f1 #guts olivia rodrigo #olivia rodrigo #olivia rodrigo x reader #Olivia Rodrigo x fem!reader #Olivia Rodrigo x driver!reader #female!driver #driver x reader #driver!reader #fem!reader #fem!driver #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 angst #f1 fic #f1 x Olivia Rodrigo #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 smau #guts tour #singer

[rosietaeyongswife]

mission: prom | jung jaehyun

genre: fluff, angst, teenage romance paring: jaehyun x reader synopsis: what happenes when prom is in a month, and you haven't been asked out yet? wc: 7k tw: curses

Your father was looking at TV, when he realized you didn't come down for dinner. It's been already 30 minutes, since he have asked you downstairs. A little bit concerned, he went upstairs to check on you and boy, he didn't expect to find you sitting on the bed crying with your earphones in.

"Y/N?" He asked, but you couldn't hear him. He came closer and tap you on your shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, yes. Sorry, dad. I got caught up."

"Why you're crying?" Your eyes drifted away from his, to hide embarrassment. "C'mon, you know you can tell me."

For a moment, you held back, because your father might not care, but it's better to let go of negative energy.

"I haven't been asked out to prom, yet." Trying to hold tears in wasn't easy. "It might be silly, but I wish I could go with someone. All my friends are going with their partners, and here I am. Don't worry, I just needed to cry and I'll be fine."

"Y/N, don't be silly. It's still a lot of time, and I assure you, there is a gentleman who is going to ask you out. I promise." He hugged you. "You're pretty, smart and funny girl. Who wouldn't want to go with you? Crazy. Don't stress about it, love." He got up and smiled at you. "Mum made pasta, your favortie one."

There was an ache in your father's heart. Did he feel heartbroken? Yes, probably yes. His little daughter was crying alone in her bedroom, because no boy asked her to prom. He wants only the best for you and wishes you happiness, and there's no way, you're going alone.

He never said anything, but he was thinking about it all night. What to do? And after a while, realization hit him. Your dad is a football couch at Seoul's University, so he's facing a bunch of boys only year older than you, daily. One of them could be good for you. Here come a list in his mind.

Yuta Nakamoto? He's Japanese, and he's just a year older, studying business at University. He's really respectful, smart and funny but he found him annoying. A lot of rumours say, he's a playboy and he doesn't look for anything special yet. Out.

Kim Jungwoo? He's tall, handsome, funny guy of the team. Jungwoo never fails to make anyone smile, and he's engineerer student so it makes him perfect canditate. But. He's shy, and boys were talking about him and some girl. Out.

Kim Mingyu? He's also very tall, handsome and mysterious. A lot of girls have a crush on him, but he's not the smartest among the team, and he has a temper. Sometimes he's too stubborn and it's not cool. Out.

As your dad was thinking about it, his hopes went down. Is there anyone, who isn't douchebag or dumb? He isn't going to set up his precious girl with some jerk. And then an idea popped.

Jung Jaehyun. Tall, handsome, funny and respectful student. He's studying business with Yuta, and a lot of girls have a crush on him and teachers love him. He's most polite person, your dad has ever met. Professors always praise him, because he always gets high marks and he's the best football player in the team. On top of that, his father was an old friend of your father. He helped Jungs in the past, making Jaehyun's dad, a professor in United States some time ago. Bingo.

On your way to classes, all you could hear was your friends bragging about their prom dates. It was annoying you, because you still don't have any date. Jealousy was getting over you, but you hide it as much as you could.

"Doyoung came with a big sign and flowers in his hand." Sohyeon said with a proud smile, showing you picture of her boyfriend. "I was stunned. Imagine, Kim Doyoung showing up with these things to ask me out, crazy."

"Jungwoo wasn't original." Jimin said with a pout. "We were hanging out at his dorm, and he turned the TV off. I looked at him, and he asked if I wanted to go with him."

"I mean, it's Jungwoo, we're talking about." You pointed out. "At least, he did ask."

"What about you, Y/N?" Sohyeon smiled at you widely. "I bet there must be some hottie. Tell us."

"Actually, nope."

Girls tried to comfort you, but you were aware of reality. Majority of people had already dates, and this wouldn't change much.

"I bet someone will ask you out." Jimin hugged you. "Look, I had no idea few months ago, I'd be dating Doyoung. I used to stay at home 24/7. And look, I'm dating him."

"For real, you can't stress about it. I mean, going alone isn't the worst. Many people go alone. It's fine."

"Yes, I bet it is. It'd just be nice to have a date."

"Imagine if someone like, oh." Jimin pouted. "Jung Jaehyun asked you out. Do you remember him? A year ago, everyone and their moms had a crush on him. He's literally the most handsome man I've ever seen. Besides, Jungwoo right."

"Oh fuck." Sohyeon nodded with a laughter. "He once asked me about a teacher, and I could fall because of his beauty."

"I've heard, he asked Chaeyoung out by getting on his knees with her favorite flowers in hand and sang her a song. Isn't it romantic?" Jimin and Sohyeon both were daydreaming about Jaehyun. "He never sings for anyone, so she must've been special."

"Wow, that's awesome." You nodded. "Do you think they're still dating?"

"Maybe? I have no idea, but Park Chaeyoung is studying law, and he's doing business at different universities. I hope they broke up."

"Why? You can't say that."

"C'mon, Y/N. He deserves better."

Park Chaeyoung was known pretty and popular girl among your year, just a year ago. At first, everyone thought she's nice and polite, but then it turned out she's the most fake person, that school has ever seen. If she didn't like someone, she'd turn their life into hell. People got to know, few weeks after prom and since then she left school to write SATS in another school.

The weather outside was sunny and warm, which resulted on bunch of men being sweaty and greasy. They've been running nonstop for past half an hour, and it was just a beginning of practice.

Your father was thinking what is he supposed to say to Jaehyun to make him agree.

"Jaehyun." Younger man turned around to check what's going on. "Can I talk to you?"

"Of course, couch. What's up?"

"Listen, I have an odd question." He nodded. "You know my daughter, Y/N, right? She used to come here with me some time ago."

"Oh, Y/N. Yes, I know her. Not really know, but I know who she is. Why?"

"What I'm about to say may be crazy for you, and I understand if you wouldn't like to agree, but I'm desperate." Jaehyun was confused. What do you have to do with him? "She hasn't been asked out to Prom, and she probably won't be. I love her, and I can't bear the pain to see her heartbroken. Would you ask my daughter out to Prom?"

Jaehyun was stunned and he had no words. What was he supposed to say? He doesn't even know you. At all.

"I like you couch, and I respect you, but I don't really know her. I don't think it's a great idea, maybe you should've asked Yuta-"

"No. You're most normal guy here. Jaehyun, please. Think about it. I'll let you play in the main squad in semi finals. I promise."

"I'll think about it, couch."

Jaehyun wasn't sure what to do. At first, he was certain to say no, but your dad promised him place in the main squad on semi finals. It's his big chance right there.

After the practice, he went straight home and wanted nothing else but sleep. As he was about to shower, his father called him.

"Jaehyun, did Mr. Y/L/N asked you?"

"Oh, God. You too?" He hissed. "It's crazy dad. I literally don't know her at all. Am I supposed to show up at her door tommorow with a flower in a hand and as if she wants to be my prom date? Please. It's ridiculous."

"I know how it sounds, but you need to agree." He sighed and Jaehyun once again, was confused. "Her father used to help me to get a place in professor staff. Thanks to him, I could work at Harvard. He helped me, and it's time to return a favor. I'm not asking you to date her, son. Just one night."

Only two weeks until prom, and here you are with your mother and Jimin in a shop with all the beautiful dresses. The longer you were in there, the more mad you were. All the dresses you tried on, were either ugly or not flattering.

"Baby, I think you need to make your mind. There's plenty of choice. Pick something."

"I'll just get something black." You said with a grin. "Nothing else looks good on me, black is classic. And heels. Whatever."

Jimin felt bad, because you were excited just a ten minutes ago, but now you're tired. After picking a dress, three of you came to your home. Your mother was busy with conversation with your father, while you and Jimin were looking for makeup inspirations on Pinterest.

"I think I'm doing glam." Jimin showed you a picture of glam makeup on some girl. "I need to go extra hard, you know."

"Well, you should. I bet you're going to look amazing, Jimin."

"You too. Find yourself a good inspo, and we'll be slaying the shit out of that place."

After few minutes, Jungwoo came to pick Jimin up. Both of them are supposed to have a dinner date tonight. You waved them goodbye, but you noticed how Jungwoo was looking at you and whispered something to Jimin. She seems to be excited, but she played it off and left. Weird.

As you were packing your stuff for school, a door bell rang in the whole house.

"Y/N, open the door." Your father ordered you to do it.

It annoyed you. Both of your parents were sitting downstairs in the living room, yet they called you to open the door.

"Hi, who-" You stopped mid sentence. "Jung Jaehyun? What are you doing here?"

You got outside and closed the door after you. Jaehyun was wearing a black suit and he was looking really fine in it. In his hands were small boquete of rosses, and you were real confused at the moment.

"I came, because I want to take you to Prom together." He smiled and showed you his dimples. He also gave you the rosses. "Y/N, will you be my prom date?"

He was smiling at you, looking adorable and all you could do was sigh.

"No."

Jaehyun was baffled. He didn't expect such an outcome. You were supposed to be extra excited, say yes and hug him, thanking for saving you, and he was supposed to play in semi finals. And you have audacity to say no?

"What do you mean no?"

"No, I won't let you be my date, Jaehyun." You were smilling, and it didn't help Jaehyun to realize what's going on. "I guess my father must've asked you to do it. Damn, he really pitties me."

"It's not like that, I mean, I mea-" He was at loss of words. "You were supposed to say yes. I thought you still don't have a date."

"That's true, I don't."

Jaehyun was laughing ironically.

"Then what's the issue? Agree and you will have a cute date, and best time of your life with me."

"You don't even know me, Jaehyun. We were friends when we were, like, 5?" You laughed at Jaehyun expression, handing him the flowers. "I appreciate your efforts, but I don't want to go with someone who pity me."

Before Jaehyun could speak, you left. He was baffled on the sport in front of your door. He was theoritically dumped. His pride got hurt a bit, since no one has ever told him "no" until today. Not only pride got hurt, but his hope also died. He can't let go. He needs sport in main squad, it's his chance to become someone big.

"Y/N you're going with me wheter you like it or not."

And with that he left. He promised to himself, he's going to make you change your mind and secure a spot in main team.

It's been five days since Jaehyun has showed up at your door with rosess in his hand. You didn't tell anything about it to your friends, becasue they would get worked out over nothing. Sohyeon and Jimin were busy with their love lives, while you kinda stuck with them to kill boredroom.

"Wait." Jimin stopped on her track. "Isn't it Jung Jaehyun's car?"

"What do you mean?"

Three of you turned your gaze towards black Mercedes, that was parked in front of your school. Plates said exact numbers, Jaehyun owns.

"That's weird." Sohyeon chuckled. "What does he need from here?"

Before anyone could answer, tall male got out the car and was making his way towards you and your friends. Your hearbeat got faster, and you were about to faint.

"Is he coming towards us?"

"I guess."

You had internal battle with yourself, wheter to run away or stay still and die of embarrassment.

"Y/N." The way his voice sounds, made you even more nervous than you already were. "I came by, and I'd like to give you ride home."

Witnesses of this scene were baffled. It was some fanfiction shit in real life, because how the hell, is Jaehyun picking you up from school?

"I don't think it's necessary."

"C'mon. Don't be so lame, let's go."

"I can handle myself." You hissed. "Thank you, but nope."

"I won't ask twice. You're either coming with me or I'm tell-"

"Fine." You didn't give him a chance to speak. "I'll go with you."

You waved your friends goodbye and left with a weird stranger, who doesn't seem to let go.

"Why you're so cold, huh?" He smiled at himself, while he was turning on engine. "I know we don't know each other, but what's stopping us from getting to know each other? Nothing."

"Listen, I don't want to get to know you, alright? You're so annoying, I told you no. What part of my decline you didn't understand?"

Jaehyun was smilling at himself, because of how adorable you were. Annoyed and angry because of him.

"Because I want to be your prom date, how simple is that?" He teased with his eyes focused on the road. "I see no cons of that situation."

Listening to him was getting on your nerves. The next thing you're about to do, was to have a talk with your father. It was all his fault. You being in that car was his fault. Jaehyun getting on your neveres, was, also, his fault.

"We don't know each other, I won't go with a stranger."

"Then we'll get to know each other, simple."

As you were about to protest, you saw how he turned in the wrong way. It wasn't the road towards your home.

"I think you turned in the wrong direction."

"C'mon, did you really think we're going home so soon?"

"I want to go home, Jaehyun." You rolled your eyes. "I appreciate your effort, but it's nonsense."

Jaehyun didn't answer, but kept his smile on his lips. This whole time feels like an illusion. You're in Jaehyun's car, going God knows where. What if he's a psycho, who's about to kill you?

"Easy, I'm not going to kidnap or kill you."

"What the fuck?" Now you were scared. "How did you-"

"I can see it in your facial expressions. Believe me or not, I'm not into killing pretty girls."

"So cliche."

"And funny."

After ten minutes, both of you get out the car. The sight in front of you was quite mesmerizing. It was a lake with woods around. The views was impressing, but you had no intentions to say it out loud.

"How do you like it?"

"It's cool." You shrugged. "It's the place where you take all your girls, right? I guess it's a nice location."

"Don't be so mean. I don't take anyone here." He replied, going towars small bridge. "I am here once every few weeks. I like it here. Peace and sound."

"So.. Why are we here?"

"To spend some time together?" He was sarcastic, which made you even more annoyed than you already were. "You said, you're not going to prom with a stranger, then I'll stop being a stranger."

"Jaehyun, I wasn't joking-"

"What's your favorite color then?"

"Really?" You couldn't believe your ears. "You're asking me about my favorite color, God."

"Just answer me."

"I don't know. Red probably?"

"Red. Sounds good. Mine's black, since you haven't bothered to ask."

"It's because I don't care?" You tried to keep your cool, but Jaehyun made you nervous. "Geez."

"Another question."

"I feel like I'm taking a pop quiz."

"Good, that's the point." He leaned by the bench. "Why you're always wearing your earphones in? Ever since I can remember, you were wearing them since the beginning of the high school."

"I like music, isn't it obvious? I just prefer to listen to music to talking with people."

"So you're an introvert."

"And you're an extrovert, I suppose."

"Opposites attract, you know."

"Stop with this cheesy lines, Jaehyun. God."

"I like how you say my name. Cute." He smiled at you, and you tried to hide your smile. He wasn't that bad. "Do you have any questions?"

"Why business? I thought you're into different things."

"Oh. Well, my father made me do it. My plan A is to become a football star." He chuckled with you at your reaction. "My plan B, made by my father, was to become CEO and open own company."

"Sounds secure. Cool."

"I don't know. Economics and business is so fucked ubp. I baerly can do basic math and it's driving me crazy. College is a real deal, Y/N." You smiled at his words. He must've meant it. "And you? Your plans for future?"

"I'm not sure yet." You sat down on a small bench. "I'm thinking about either psychology or criminology. Both are interesting, but it's dificult. I don't think I'm ready for an adult life."

Jaehyun could only nod at your words. It was true, it is scary, but it can be overcomed.

"You're going to figure it out. I bet you're going to be good at whatever you're going to pick."

"Oh, thank you. How cute." You said with a sarcasm. "I appreciate your piece of advice, but it was shitty one."

"C'mon, don't be so negative Miss."

"Don't call me miss, that sounds weird." You made disgusted face. "I think you should drive me back home, my father is probably wondering where am I."

"Oh shit, for sure."

Ride back home was rather fun. Jaehyun was talking about all the times he had embarrased himself or fun stories he and his friends had. It seems like Jaehyun is really cool guy.

"Thank you, uhm, for the ride."

"You're welcome, see you around Y/N."

A little smile crept on your lips, he isn't that bad. Your father was doing dinner for both of you, when he noticed you.

"Was it Jung Jaehyun's car or am I wrong?"

"Indeed. He insisted, dad."

"Do you like him?"

"I bearly know him, please. He's not that bad, but he's still a stranger."

"Cool." He hummed. "Dinner will be ready in a few."

After small talk with your dad, you came into your room and finally checked all the messages from your friends. As you were about to reply, an outcoming call came.

"Hi."

"Why the fuck did Jung Jaehyun came for you?"

"Exactly, mind explaining?"

"I don't know, he just came by, I guess."

"Came by? Y/N Y/L/N, be for real. Why didn't you tell us both of you are talking?"

"Because we aren't. He's just an old friend."

"Doesn't make sense at all. Girl, we should've known before. Now, tell us everything."

You cooked your brows, because you didn't feel like telling your friends about Jaehyun.

"There's nothing to talk about. We met few times, and that's all. I swear." You tried to keep it cool. "I'm sorry but I have to go, my father calls me."

Sometimes Jimin and Sohyeon get out of hand. They're really annoying with your business, and you don't really like it. Relationship with Jaehyun could only mess up your and your friends.

Past week was really exciting for you. All the time, you had spent with Jaehyun. He literally made you laugh so much, and you had really time of your life. Your friends didn't ask much, they just let you do your thing. For the first time in a long time, you felt happy. Jaehyun brought so much joy into your life, which was cool.

"So." Jaehyun looked up from his cup of tea. "I was wondering, if I can be your prom date?"

You almost choked on your tea. The first time Jaehyun has asked you out, it was weird and funny to you, but right now it made you nervous to speak.

"I guess you can."

Jaehyun chuckled a bit and hugged you. You felt redness spread across your cheeks because of that small gesture. There's no way you're falling for him, right?

"See you on friday then. Make yourself look pretty, Y/N."

"I'm always pretty, dork."

"I never said you weren't."

Humming in response, you laughed at Jaehyun. Both of you were about to head home, he's living just five minutes away from you. When you opened the door to your house, you could hear your mother voice.

"But you can't just ask somebody to do it, Jezus."

"Please, calm down it's not like-" He noticed you. "Y/N, hi. You're finally home."

"What were you arguing about?" You chuckled a bit, but you still were concerned. "Both of you look weird, is everything fine?"

Your father took a quick glance at your mother, and then sit down on the counter.

"Not really, we were arguing about my managment of my football team, nothing serious."

"Okay then."

"Honey, are you ready for prom?" Your mother stopped you from going away. "I mean, it's this friday and I want you to feel special."

"Not really."

The next day, your mother took you out on a shopping spree. This day was all about you. Your mother was really happy that both of you could spend a day together after a long time of not doing so. Walking through shops was making you a bit dizzy. Dresses were elegant and beuatiful, so the choice was hard.

"What about this one, Y/N?"

You turned around to see a green mini dress, and you were certain it's not it.

"I don't think green is my colour, mom."

This went on and on, and what supposed to be a nice afternoon turned into a nightmare real quick. Your mother was annoyed with your choices, and the fact you haven't found any of the dresses cute.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I think I can help." A woman with a precious smile on came by. "My name is Jennie, and I've been working here for three years, so I have some experience."

"Thank God, I can't do it anymore." Your mother rolled her eyes. "Y/N be quick."

She then left to sit on the couch and check her phone, while you were on your way with Jennie. She seems to be a nice girl and she was really cool with you.

"I'm sorry for my mother, she's like this sometimes."

"Don't worry, things like this happens here daily, believe me. I know how to deal with it."

"Must be harsh."

"I got used to it by now." She smiled at you. "Here, elegant dress. Black and maxi, what do you think?"

"They're amazing. Wow, I've never seen anything prettier."

"I know right? Well, here's all the dresses available in black. I think black is everyone's go to. So let's take a look."

After ten minutes of going through, what seems like a hundred, dresses, Jennie picked one.

"That-"

"Is beautiful, I know." She ended your sentance. "Try it on."

It was black, elegant and slevless dress with a square neck. The dress made you pop and look like a princess. Looking at your reflection, you felt beautiful for the first time since forever. You felt like you, but more confident and cooler.

"Excuse me, Mam." Jennie approached your mother. "Your daughter was wondering if you might want to take a look at the dress we choose."

"Finally, okay."

Facial expression your mother had, was spechless. It was a moment where both of you went silent and just looked at each other.

"So, what do you think?"

"You look perfect, Y/N. This is the one, honey." She turned her back and looked at Jennie. "Can we get shoes too?"

D-day, here's your prom night. Jaehyun felt comfortable around you, so were you. Both of you have been texting each other about most casual stuff, as if you had known each other for years. Also, he was annoying you, because he wanted to see the dress, but you told him no. It's supposed to be a surprise.

A bell rang. It must've been him.

"Y/N, someoen's for you." Your dad called you, and suddenly you felt anxious. What if he doesn't like what you wear? "Y/N, c'mon."

Making your way down the stairs, you prayed in your mind for him to like it a lot. On the other hand, Jaehyun was mesmerized by your beauty. He couldn't take his eyes off of you.

"Y/N, you look gorgeous." Jaehyun couldn't take his eyess off of you, which made you blush. "You're killing it."

"Thank you." You tried to hide your face. "Stop looking at me like that!"

"Sorry, my bad."

Ride towars the place of the prom wasn't silent at all. Jaehyun was talking with you about everything like usually. He also couldn't stop looking at you. For the first time in a long time, you felt appreciated by someone else than your parents.

Dance. Everyone who had a pair had to dance. Jaehyun learnt the steps in a day thanks to you. You couldn't tell who was more excited: you or Jaehyun. Whole school had eyes on you and your partner for tonight, but you couldn't care less. Tonight feels like a dream. It was all thanks to God. If it wasn't for him, you would spend the worst night of your life alone, but here you are with Jung Jaehyun.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, I am."

"Video Games" instrumentall started playing. Your steps were graceful, smooth and pretty. Jaehyun was watching your every move almost hipnotised. At this very moment, he realized how much he does actually like you. Jaehyun got attached to you by last weeks. To be fair, he was mad at himself that he hadn't had a chance to get to know you before.

"I'm one lucky man to be here with you."

"Didn't you tell the same thing to Chaeyoung?" You laughed, while Jaehyun silenced for a minute and let out a small giggle. "I'm lucky one. I don't know how did it happen, but I'm happy nevertheless."

Jaehyun eyes widened. For a qucik second, he remembered conversation with your father. He felt awful for a second, but then he let go. It doesn't matter. What matters is the fact he likes you.

"No, I told her something different. I guees." Both of you giggled, as you were making your way towards the tables. "I'm glad that Doyoung and Jungwoo will be here. I feel like I'm grandma among teenagers."

"You're just a year older, idiot."

"Still. Year may be a lot."

"Dumb."

Sohyeon and Jimin were really excited for you. They had never seen you happier than tonight. Ever since you've been hanging out with Jaehyun something changed in you. Like a small sparkle in you woke up. None of them knew the real reason why did Jaehyun asked you out. Their boyfriends told them, he was intrested in her for a while since Chaeyoung left the school. It was really believable, because you were one of the prettiest girl in the High School.

"So, Jaehyun and Y/N, are you dating?"

Jungwoo asked all of sudden, and for a moment you forgot how to breathe.

"Dude, I swear to God." Jaehyun rolled his eyes at his best friend. "Leave us alone. Are you alright, Y/N?"

"Yes, I am."

"So? What's the answer?"

Before Jaehyun could answer, you were faster to reply.

"No. We're friends."

Jaehyun couldn't explain why, but he felt an ache in his heart at your words. It was an honest true, why would he feel hurt? He brushed it off, and just nodded at your words.

Jimin punched Jungwoo playfully, and changed the topic.

"What about we dance? I hear Rihanna, and everyone is sitting down. C'mon! Let's dance!"

Circle of your friends got up on the dance floor staying there for almost hour. All the 2000s hits were blasting through the speakers, and you really were happy. Nothing could ruin your night. It's the best day of your life.

"I need to rest." You said, and sat down with Doyoung while the rest went for the drinks.

"Wow, I haven't seen Jaehyun so happy and chill for a while now. Did you do something to him, Y/N?" He chuckled.

"Nope, haha. What are you talking about?" You laughed at him, and took a sip of juice you had. "I thought he was always this happy."

"He had a rough time lately, and now he's dancing on the dance floor with us. Believe me, he would never do it unless he was drunk."

Doyoung's words warmed up your heart. The thought of Jaehyun being happier just because both of you hangs out made you smile. He isn't such an asshole as you thought for some time.

An hour passed, and everyone had a great time. Girls were dancing with you, boys would come to dance too. It's an unforgetable night for you.

"I need to smoke. Anyone?"

Jaehyun, Doyoung, Jungwoo, Jimin all got up and left. Jimin had to call her mother, while you stayed with Sohyeon. Your friend was really drunk, close to passing out.

"Are you alright, Sohyeonah?"

"Yes, yes hell I am." She was chuckling. "I feel great." She was stuttering, and you felt bad for her. "I want more."

As when she was going for another drink, you took it from her.

"Girl, do you want to throw up? Leave it alone." You were laughing at her failed attempts to get the drink from you. "Stop it."

It's been five minutes, and you wasn't laughing at all. Sohyeon wasn't chuckling or saying anything, she was almost passed out.

"I need to go to toilet."

Her voice was shaky, so you were fast to react and go with her. She was on her knees throwing up, as you were holding her hair.

"Who-" Jimin voice stopped. "Oh my God, is she so drunk?" She got on her knees, and took a look at her friend.

"Yes, she looks like a ghost. I don't think staying here more, would make it better."

"God." Jimin rolled her eyes. "Can you go for Doyoung? He should take her home or something. I'll stay with her. I know what to do, but she should rest."

"Of course."

You felt bad for Sohyeon, she has always been a lighthead. Jimin knew what to do with her, but you had no clue. You went by your table, but there was no one there so boys were still outside. Many people were going in and out, so it was hard for you to notice them in the crowd. Finally, you saw familiar sillhouete. As you got closer you've heard Jungwoo's voice.

"Are you still going to keep in touch with her? I mean, you already did what you've been asked to." Jungwoo was chuckling. "She's great girl, but do you want to?"

Been asked to? You felt as if your heart was breaking in two. What does it mean?

"I don't know. Depends."

"Ya, really?" Doyoung was laughing. "You got your spot in a team, and you says depends. Coach isn't going to be the happiest with such an answer."

"I mean, that's true. I like her but.." Jaehyun wasn't able to end. "I don't know how to explain this. I would -"

He couldn't end, because Jungwoo shook his head in your direction. Here you were standing with makeup running down your face. Crying so hard, you almost forgot how to breathe.

"D-Doyoung, Sohyeon is throwing up in the toilets. Take her home." IT was all you could say.

Three of them were shocked to see you. You've heard the conversation out of context. It seems like Jaeyun used you for his spot, but he didn't get to finish his true feelings about you.

"Fuck! Y/N stop!"

Jungwoo went together with Doyoung, leaving two of you alone.

"Leave me the fuck alone, Jaehyun!" You screamed on top of your lungs. "I knew my father must have asked you for it. I knew it. How could I be so stupid to think you did it by yourself! I'm such an idiot."

"It's not like that! I really like you, please. Hear me out!"

"No, I don't want to talk." You wiped away your tears. "I'm coming home. I don't want to see you anymore."

"Wait, Y/N."

Jaehyun was about to chase you, when he realized it's done. You overheard him and his friends in a wrong timing. He was about to say how much he does adore you, and how it depends on you and how you see him. Now it's fuckin done, because you know it was your dad favor.

Prom was supposed to be your dream come true, and it turned into a nightmare quickly. It's been almost a month, and you're still with your thoughts in that night. Your father apologized to you about thousand times.

"I told you to leave her alone! She could've gone by herself. Happens. It would be better than going with your boy. Gosh, what have you done?" Your mother was annoyed. "Now she doesn't talk to you and I support her."

"I only wants the best for her! That's it! I couldn't look at her being hurt. I wanted my little girl to have her moment, is it so bad?"

Jaehyun called you and texted you, but you didn't read nor respond to these messages.

On the other hand, Jaehyun was upset. Heartbroken. Depressed. He wasn't sure why did he take it so personal. He was sure he couldn't get you out of his head. Jung Jaehyun understood you and wasn't surprised by your behaviour, but he was selfish. He wanted you to text him back, to say you missed him. His friends were surprised by his acts, because he never was such a wreck because of a girl.

"Y/N." Your dad got into your room. "I may sound selfish, but I want you to talk with Jaehyun. Semi finals are this weekend, yet he's really not himself. We need to win and I know to you I'm an asshole but please."

"Do you really expect me to talk with him?"

"At least show up on our match. He would be better if he could see you. Please. It's important for boys and for me."

"I'll think about it."

Your dad nodded and left. Of course, it was obvious that semi finals are important for your father as a couch. But you were still hurt. It wasn't even because of your father and Jaehyun, but by you. How could you believe Jaehyun would liked you? It was eating you alive. Everyone knew you went to prom together, yet he wasn't feeling you. That's what you supposed.

The door bell rung. You were alone, so you had to open the door and you saw two men. Jungwoo and Doyoung.

"I don't want to talk to you." As when you almost closed the door, Jungwoo stopped you.

"Y/N, why can't you talk with him?" Doyoung asked desperatly. "He's a wreck. I've never seen him like this before. I swear to God, it was out of context. It was bad timing."

"Look, it must be hard, but the coach wanted the best for you, and Jaehyun? He caught feelings! Can't you see?" Jungwoo hissed. "All he could talk about is you and how much he regrets not going after you."

"We understand if you don't want to know him anymore. Okay. But please, Y/N, come on the weekend for semi finals. He has to give his best, but he's not able to do so."

Doyoung really was desperate for you. The look in their eyes could tell it was truth.

"I can come, but." Their eyes lighten up. "I don't want to talk to him. I'm doing that, so you can leave me alone."

Two guys hugged you and left. They were thankful for you.

Semi finals were about to start. Seouls University, coached by your father vs. Yonsei University. It's a big event among students. There were about thousand people at least. Whole area was occupied. Jimin and Sohyeon reserveted places for you three.

"Hello, finally."

"Here I am. Where's the guys?"

"They're going up."

You looked over at the field and there they were. Your eyes couldn't help but lend on Jaehyun. He wasn't able to see you. Deep down, you prayed for his best performance.

After first half it was 2:0 for Yonsei. Boys were throwing curses and were mad. Jaehyun couldn't score a goal at all. He was furious, and got yellow card for bad behaviour.

It was a break in between.

"You should go there, Y/N." Jimin said. "Jaehyun isn't going to score these goals, because he is still focused on you and he had no idea you came for him."

"I came because they all asked me-"

"Don't lie. We know deep down, you couldn't not come."

"Go, you have less than five minutes."

In your mind there was no other choice. You were running for your life to get down there for them. Jaehyun had to see you. You had to tell him to get it together. Tell him you forgive him, even though you don't want to.

"Guys, please! Focus! Jaehyun you are so close to score a goal, yet you miss every single time!"

"I'm sorry coach, I really try to."

At this moment you walked in. Boys turned their heads at you and decided to leave you alone with Jaehyun for a minute.

"Minute and I see you back."

"You really came." Jaehyun came and hugged you. "I'm sorry for everything, I miss you so fuckin much!"

"Jaehyun, get it together. You are supposed to be MVP. Please, it's important."

"I try to do my best but I can't focus."

"I forgive you. I forgave you long ago. I'm not mad about it anymore, so please. We're fine. Do your best."

"Thank you." Jaehyun wanted to kiss you. He needed that but your time was out. He had to go play.

The other half was different. Seoul University had ball longer than Yonsei. There was 15 minutes left and the score was 2:1. Yuta managed to score a goal few minutes ago. The longer you were watching, the more stressed you were.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Jung Jaehyun and Kim Jungwoo are running towards Yonsei. Wait, Jungwoo passed the ball to Jaehyun. He's close to scoring. Wait! Jung Jaehyun scored another goal! It's 2:2. One of the team needs to score another goal to win and to go to half finals."

Jaehyun did it. Just one more goal. Boys were faster, while Yonsei boys were already tired. They thought that your father's team would let go.

"I'm stressed. I hope they win."

Last 5 minutes. Jaehyun needs to score another goal. You were watching him closely. Mingyu was trying to pass ball to him, but he was blocked by the opponents. Yuta was trying his best to block other team, but it was hard.

Finally, Jaehyun was running as if he wasn't human. His speed was so fast, people didn't get what was going on. All of a sudden, Mingyu managed to pass to Jungwoo and he passed to Jaehyun.

Goal. Jaehyun did it. Time is over and Seoul University won 3:2. They're going towards finals!

"OMG THEY DID IT!"

Everyone was screaming and jumping. Boys were hugging each other and were about to give speeches through the microphones.

"I'm proud of my boys." Your dad appeared on the big screen. "I taught them well and now they won again. I love them as if they're mine kids. Congratulations boys, we got it!"

"Yuta Nakamoto, how do you feel after this win? You scored first goal for your team, you must be proud!"

"Fuck yeah! We did it! Again!" He was screaming. "We're not stopping anytime soon! We're not afraid of anyone, I'm sure we're going to win South Korea Football Competition. I know it!"

Few boys gave intervies until it was turn for Jaehyun. Your hearbeat was as fast as Jaehyun during the match.

"Jaehyun you won MVP today! You scored two goals giving your team to chance to move forward. What's your thoughts?"

"It's not thanks to me but thanks to the whole team. Our teamwork is amazing and we did it. We really are the best! I love my boys! I'm grateful I can do it with them and celebrate!" He took a microphone from a journalist hands. "Excuse me, but I have to say something to someone I hurt really badly. Y/N." Your heart stopped for a second. "I meant to say it long time ago. I think I'm in love with you. I know I was an asshole and now you're propably embarrassed as fuck, but please. I love you. I miss you everyday. I miss those little dates. When Jungwoo had asked us if we were dating, I'd like to answer yes. I wished to. I wasn't sure of your feelings. I know I fucked up big time, but please. Can you forgive me for real and talk to me?"

"Yes, Y/N, wherever you are, please come down to us and get your man!" Journalist shouts to the mic.

Your friends pushed you to make you move. You ran towards Jaehyun. It was crazy. Jaehyun loved you. He really did. You ran towards his arms and hugged him.

"I forgave you. I think I love you too."

"Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?"

Instead of answering you kissed him. Everyone was cheering for you, but both of you were too busy with each other.

"Yes. Of course, yes!"

#nct #kpop #nct au #kpop au #angst #nct 127 #nct u #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jung jaehyun #jung jaehyun au #jaehyun au #jeong jaehyun #taeil #johnny #taeyong #yuta #doyoung #jungwoo #haechan #mark #nct u au #nct u imagines #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct angst

[rileyglas]

Hello! Can I request Alastor x Fem!Trust Issues!Reader? I've seen quite a few fanfictions and requests where Readers were wary of Alastor, but strangely quickly began to trust him. Therefore, it seemed to me that it would be funny to see a Reader who is so distrustful of people in principle that with Alastor’s reputation this distrust reaches the point of absurdity. And when Alastor really sincerely wants to gain the Reader's trust (romantically or platonically, it doesn't matter), then it becomes a really difficult task. For example, he offers help with some little thing and the Reader immediately “what do you want from me.” Or when Alastor brings the Reader tea/coffee, she waits for him to drink first (she would probably insist that he pour it from the same ?teapot?). The other residents of the Hotel find this hilarious.

This is such a fun prompt, especially under the assumption Alastor loves nothing more than a good chase during a hunt. 😉

Like Glass (Alastor x Fem!TrustIssues!Reader)

Four months. That’s how long it took for you to finally take Charlie up on her offer of the possibility of redemption. The chance to get to Heaven seemed like a pipe dream but after a few very long talks and persuasions, you now held a key to your own room in the hotel. 

You try to keep to yourself and most seem to respect that. You’re left alone unless something is needed for one of Charlie’s exercises. You even specifically requested that Nifty didn’t bother coming to your room to clean. The less people in your space the better. 

Charlie has such a big heart but that leads to her choosing to trust even the most despicable characters. She has even trusted and allowed the Radio Demon to live under the same roof. You’ve heard all the stories, all the theories of why he was really there under the ruse of “helping” her. You didn’t buy it one bit. 

Just the other day you were trying to hang some banners the crew had made during an activity. Your ladder was rickety but unfortunately it was the only way to reach the beams. Pained grunts filled the room from you trying to stand on your tiptoes while maintaining some sense of balance. “Allow me to help, dear. Would hate to see you fall.” A staticky voice called from below you. “No thank you - I….am almost…done - shit!” the ladder shifted and almost threw you off. Alastor stabilized it with ease. “See, it is a good thing I’m here!” he yelled smugly. At this point you would rather fall than allow him to hold your life in his hands. “You’re a busy man Alastor. Hey Husk? Mind helping -”

“Nope, looks like Al has it covered.” he teased from behind the bar, relishing in your uneasy tone. You shot daggers, both angry and begging for the cat to just help you instead of Alastor. You made the last tie in the banner and swiftly came down to more solid ground. “Thanks I guess. I had it though.” you said through gritted teeth, avoiding making eye contact and rushing out of the room. Had you looked back you would have seen Husk laughing at how irate Alastor suddenly became.

Now tonight, Nifty was kind enough to serve everyone one of her more popular dinners. It was a simple dish yet as usual, you waited for everyone to nearly clear their plates before digging into it yourself. You might have been starving but you could never be too careful. We are all in Hell for a reason. Could anyone be truly trusted?

“My dear, dig in! Before it gets cold!” Alastor’s voice chirped from across the table. You glare at the toothy grinned demon, “I just like to ensure everyone is enjoying before digging in myself. Appreciate the concern though.” You try to seem pleasant but your voice always seems to drip with disdain when speaking to him, “Why are you so worried? Did you help in preparing the meal?” 

He chuckles, “I try to keep out of the kitchen when Nifty cooks but she did require a few extra hands -” You involuntarily choke and spit out the bite you had just taken. Angel and Husk also choke though it’s to hold back laughter. You sneer at their amusement. Alastor’s face twists with confusion, “Is everything alright?” “Oh uhm I’m suddenly not that hungry. Must be coming down with something. Excuse me.” You excuse yourself from the table and make your way to the library. Reading was always something that could busy your mind and right now you needed a distraction from both your growling stomach and Alastor’s attempt to help once again. He’d been making an uncomfortable effort to help you in any way he could and in your mind, that could only mean he wanted something from you.

Not many residents used the hotel library which was great for you. But of course, there was always someone who enjoyed breaking your solitude. The sound of footsteps pulls your eyes off your current page, “What do I owe the visit?” you snap over your book. 

Alastor strides over with a serving tray carrying a tea set. “Well I saw just how horrible you looked at dinner and figured some peppermint tea might help whatever ailment you’re suffering from.” He sets the tray on the table in front of you but you don’t move a muscle. “Since when do you care if someone isn’t feeling well?” you cock an eyebrow at him. 

He hums as he pours two cups of tea, taking one for himself and offering you the other, “What? Can I not offer a fellow resident a nice cup of tea?” “Nope. What do you want?” you continue to stare at the cup in his hand. His eye twitches, trying to hold back his annoyance, “Why do you insist on rejecting any of my pleasantries?”

You slam your book closed, “You’re wondering why I do not want help of any sort from one of Hell’s most vile Overlords?” He sets down your cup and sits across from you. You didn’t want company but it's too late now. “Ms. Morningstar trusts me with ensuring the safety of this hotel yet you cannot even take a cup of tea you’ve watched me both pour and drink myself. Other than what stories you’ve heard, what have I done to you to make you so cold towards me?” His eyes burn into you, eager for an answer. Although with his tone, you could only assume he knew exactly why you didn’t trust him. 

You sigh as you pick up the cup he offered. You swirl it in an attempt to examine if it looks or smells odd before hesitantly taking a small sip for yourself. “Have you ever been betrayed Alastor? By a friend? By someone you loved? Because I have. It’s how I died and how I ended up here.” 

His smile falters slightly, corners curving down before returning to their usual wide grin, “Trust is like glass, once broken it isn’t easy to fix nor will ever be the same. I admire how guarded you try to be.”

You scoff, “If it is so admirable then why bother trying so hard to earn my trust? Unless it just kills your ego that someone can see you for who you truly are -” The cup he holds suddenly shatters under his tightening grip, “Watch your tone, dear. I’ve been nothing but amicable with you. I expect the same in return.” his voice drops with static filling the air. You can’t help but smirk at how quickly you’ve managed to get under his skin. “Ooooh so it is an ego thing? Duly noted.” you bite and finish off your cup. As you stand you see Alastor’s eyes shift to black dials, his mind clearly spiraling. On your way to the door you brush a teasing hand across his shoulder, “Tea was wonderful by the way. I’m feeling better already!” Your coy laughter echoes through the library as you leave but the sounds of Alastor’s demon form drown it out. He snarls over his shoulder to you, “Don’t act so smug darling. I’ll get you to trust me one day.”

“Good luck!” You chirp walking out the door, unaware of the challenge you just put into place for the Radio Demon.  He was going to have you one way or another. It was only a matter of time and patience, two things he had plenty of when it came to getting what he wanted. You.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #female reader #fem reader #x reader #reader insert #fanfic #radio demon #husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel angel dust #request #writing requests #fic writing #writers on tumblr #female writers #fem!reader #trust issues #in hell for a reason

[kindaasrikal]

Morro and Garmadon are both in the Departed realm, why haven’t we used this information as stupidly as we could.

Morro: so…Your son-

Garmadon: one more word, and I will break my vow of peace.

Morro:

Morro: he kinda stunk.

Garmadon: *swings*

Garmadon: Isn’t it funny, how at one point in time, you thought you were destined to be the guy to defeat me?

Morro: *laying face down on the ground after losing another sparring match, is tempted to blast Garmadon*

Garmadon: hilarious, isn’t it? Ninjago would’ve been very protected.

Garmadon: *is trying to teach Morro about accepting change* change is nothing to be afraid of. Sure, it can be shocking, like the first time i grew four arms, but-

Morro: what.

Garmadon: it doesn’t-…yes?

Morro: say that part again.

Garmadon: change is nothing to be afraid of?

Morro: No, the other thing.

Garmadon:…it can be shocking?-

Morro: No. The other other thing.

Garmadon: Oh, you mean when i said Wu was you’re-

Morro: NO- the OTHER OTHER OTHER, thing!

Garmadon: when i had four arms?

Morro: YES! What do you MEAN you had four arms???

Garmadon: exactly what it implies, i had four arms.

Morro:

Morro: does that mean you technically classify as an insect

Garmadon: What.

Morro: did you know-

Garmadon: Morro, I am thousands of years old. Whatever you try to tell me, I probably already know of.

Morro: oh.

Morro: damn, i guess i didn’t need to tell you Lloyd died and visited your dad.

Garmadon: WHAT-

Morro: oh yeah, you must already know that the water ninja became water too, right?

Garmadon: What do you even MEAN BY THAT-

Morro: and that Wu apparently just died too, huh?

Garmadon: HE DID WHAT

Morro: he did death, apparently.

Garmadon: for today’s session, I was hoping to discuss some past traumas with you.

Morro: no. I don’t have trauma.

Garmadon: Morro, everyone has trauma.

Morro: well, I don’t.

Garmadon: Child, just because you call your past experiences ‘character development’ does not mean they weren’t traumas.

Morro: hey, old man.

Garmadon:

Morro: heyyy, you four armed loser.

Garmadon:

Morro: Garmadon! Stop ignoring me dammit!

Garmadon:

Morro: ugh- you- SENSEI!

Garmadon:

Morro: oh for the love of- I am NOT calling you… That.

Garmadon: *turns away*

Morro: dammit-it’s important!

Garmadon: *begins to walk away*

Morro: oh, you- you petty old man- UNCLE.

Garmadon: *turns around with a smile* yes?

Morro: I hope you get resurrected and die again.

A good half of these are rlly bad but i found it fun so let me off this once 😭

Anyways, they have a love hate relationship with the hate coming from Morro, the care coming from Garmadon, who tbh just wants to uncle Wu’s kid the same way Wu did his own (after managing his own annoyance at Morro after what happened)

Garmadon likes bullying Morro, Morro likes mocking Garmadon. Thats their relationship.

#lego ninjago #ninjago #morro ninjago #lego emo #morro wu #ninjago morro #wu ninjago #lloyd ninjago #ninjago garmadon #garmadon ninjago #garmadon #nya ninjago #first spinjitzu master #departed realm #ninjago headcanons

[moonstone03]

Hello! I have seen some other fanders commenting about the Janus GRWM video and I have a few opinions about both the video and some of those comments. But please note these are my thoughts and opinions and even some theories about certain things.

Also note that I respect and can understand other people's opinions, I am just sharing my own.

So, overall I found the GRWM video fun and funny. At first when we saw the preview last night,

I theorized that the colors used were meant to make it more obvious on the skin. Some even pointed out that the change could be because of Thomas's skin condition. To me, despite these colors not being green, they still look slightly green especially with the yellow glove near his face. Most people have more of a problem with the black line for his mouth which I can agree, it is very jarring to the eye and unnatural looking. However, this is not the first time we have seen the black line for Janus.

You can see it in the screen shots and it is very obvious, and done not as well, in the second picture with Janus's full winter get-up. I think this has less to do with Thomas choosing to change the makeup look and more with the fact that Tayln and Quill (who seems to be doing the makeup now) have different styles when it comes to Janus. This style has also been seen with some cosplayers, which I would show pictures but I cannot find names or media tags for them but you can see examples if you look up Janus Sanders Cosplays. Hopefully by the time the finale comes around, the makeup will not be as jarring and maybe even get better.

Now with the comments about how the characters are portrayed. I can see where this is coming from, they have changed but something we have to remember is that they are representations of Thomas's personality which will change over time. Also Thomas is still trying to get a handle on them without Joan by his side and we haven't had an official episode since Working Through Intrusive Thoughts, most things that have come out since seem to be semi-canon/non-canon. Thomas has also said (via my memory) in his Failures and Success video for 2023, he was using these Aside videos and shorter and easier form content to get used to and understand his characters again and to have more fun with them without the pressure like normal videos.

I want to end this post with saying that Thomas can and does make mistakes, we all do, but these are his characters and he is allowed to change and use them as he sees fits. Just as much as we as fans are allowed to use these characters and change their designs and even sometimes personalities to fit what we want them to fit.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk, have a good day, treat each other with respect and love, peace out! Love y'all!

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #ts sanders sides #fanders #ts janus #janus sanders

[makyurini]

She Washes All of My Wounds For Me | Touya Todoroki

cw/tw: NSFT, fem reader (AFAB anatomy, femme pet names), so so SO much hurt/comfort, a lot of angels/heavenly/sinners/god-like imagery, touya is so desperate to be loved and in so much denial about it, one (1) little teeny weeny mention of Sir kink as a joke, one (1) verbal argument, touya breaks a piece of furniture during said argument but does NOT hurt reader, touya is too stubborn for his own good, drunk touya however is less stubborn, drunk apologies in the rain because i am not immune to cliches, oral and fingering (f! receiving), reader does have a Bush, praise and praise and praise and praise, super duper soft smut with obsessive undertones because of who i am as a person, touya also VERY vocal in bed, happy ending (in more ways than one)

wc: 15,240

a/n: you all thought i forgot about my re-uploads? (i did but shhh) here is one of the most personal fanfics i’ve ever written and probably my favorite (so far). enjoy! <3

The first time you call Dabi by his name, he swears he sees a halo floating above your head, glitter cascading down the face he’s spent months memorizing and the body he would consider his home if he deemed himself worthy.

He never knew a thing that has brought him so much pain, so much agony, something he thought was forever cursed to be a shameful thing to hide behind skeletons in dusty closets could sound so sweet, so tender, so gentle.

But he supposes every world that falls out of the mouth of an angel is bound to sound heavenly.

His limbs are tangled with yours, his head is pressed against your shoulder in hopes that maybe you can share the burden that lies on his, his heart has been cut out of his chest and locked in yours for safe keeping, and yet he can’t believe you still manage to find ways to rock him down to his very core. You’re a saint, something so ethereal and otherworldly he never thought his temporal hands would have a chance to touch you, and yet you still choose a sinner over your throne in the clouds.

It’s a miracle, really, his tainted soul hasn’t scared you off yet. Maybe you’re just as stubborn as he is. Maybe you see him as a charity case. Maybe, just maybe, you do love him and all of his broken pieces no matter how much they bite at your skin and dye them the color of mortals. And the fact that you can say his name with so much purity—as if it really is just another typical Friday evening spent together after a week of trying to bring hero society down and not you changing everything he knows about that goddamn name—just shows how much he doesn’t deserve you.

“What did you call me?” he asks, his face never daring to leave the crook of your neck in fear of you seeing the vulnerability in his eyes, but he can’t hide it from his voice. He knows how he sounds—knows he sounds like a child lost in a world that is far too vast for him to comprehend. Blood rushes in his ears, his hands shake as they grip your hips, blunt fingernails digging into your flesh in a vain attempt to starve off the longing that is filling his bones. It’s consuming him—chewing through calcium and turning it to mere dust between greedy enamel that only knows how to feed on what little affection he receives.

Your fingers lace themselves in his hair, a signal to let him know he’s safe, he’s okay, there’s no reason to sharpen his tongue and forge his armor around you. His heart is starved of love and you’re more than happy to flood it with so much dedication he fears it may burst out of his chest—worthless bones unable to contain all of the emotions he’s tried so hard to keep locked away. “I called you by your name. Is that okay?”

“I don’t know.”

And it isn’t because he doesn’t want you to know his name. He’s already announced it to the world. Of course, you’re going to know it. It certainly isn’t because he hates the way your lips so easily form the two syllables. It isn’t because he no longer wants to associate himself with the name.

He’s simply afraid of his greedy soul becoming attached to the way you somehow manage to make something that used to cause his skin to crawl now bring his heart a peace he’s never known before he saw your face.

“Can I call you it again?”

And you sound so uncertain, so scared you’ve prodded at bruises you didn’t even know existed, terrified of reopening a wound you’ve tried to stitch up before it bled all over your hands, that he can’t help but pull his face away from its safe space and rest his sapphire eyes on yours. Though they shake, he still runs his fingers along your lower lip and tugs so he can look at your teeth and all of the words sitting in them. You look as nervous as he feels. He’ll never tell you that, however, will never let you know how much power a simple word has over him—how much power you have over him. He’s a murderer with an agenda who has allowed rebellion and anger to corrupt his burning body. He can’t let something as fickle as love distract him from his end goal.

But sometimes, he thinks, it might be okay to allow himself to be loved, especially when you make it seem so simple.

“Just don’t get used to it, sweetcheeks,” he muses, a mask of ease sliding over his face, and pulls your body closer to his. “That version of me died long ago.”

“Maybe we can resurrect him,” you whisper into his hair, and it’s then when he realizes he lost control long ago when it comes to you.

And before he can snap back that he killed it himself, you gently kiss the tips of his fingers with a touch so tender, his lungs forget how to function properly.

Still, he manages to mutter, “Some things are better left dead. No use in trying to bring something back to life that wants to stay dead.”

“But what if it never had a chance to live?”

“Then it makes grieving a lot easier. Less memories. Less things to be sad about.”

“Or it makes it more of a tragedy.” And it’s so gentle as how you say it, full of such sorrow for a man you never got to meet. The grief in your eyes pulls at his heartstrings until they’re completely unraveled, put on display for your pure eyes to dissect and analyze, and for once in his life, he isn’t afraid.

Still, only fools allow themselves to be distracted by emotions, and Dabi is anything but a fool. Using his body weight against yours, he easily flips your bodies over so you’re now straddling him, his rough hands ghosting over your soft skin and all of the imperfections he loves so much. His fingers easily find the places that turn you into a whimpering mess above him, and he regains the control he thought he lost long ago.

“C’mon, babe, I had a rough week. Let’s not talk about it, yeah? Let me just make you feel good. Doesn’t that sound so nice? Crying from my cock instead of a stupid name?” Before you can protest, he slips his thumb past your lips and presses it against your tongue, effectively rendering you speechless as you reflexively begin sucking on the digit. “Now that’s a good girl. Let’s not worry about something stupid, okay? Now, what’s my name?”

“Sir,” you moan out around his hand, drool coating his palm in a lewd way that causes all of his blood to rush to his dick.

“That’s the only name I care about.”

The second time you call Dabi by his name, he remembers why it brings him so much pain.

It was such an odd thing to get angry about. After everything he’s done, the stunts he’s pulled, the countless times he’s burned his body trying to set others ablaze, you choose to get mad over the fact that he had to go radio silent for two weeks to keep you out of the attention of those who want to take him down. It’s nothing new, nothing you haven’t been through before. Hell, he’s had to disappear for a month before, and you welcomed him back with open arms.

So why? Why get angry now? Why do your eyes hold such hostility when looking at him? It’s something he’s grown accustomed to from strangers, from heroes who claim to fight for the greater good, from family members who forget the past, from colleagues who don’t agree with his extreme ideals. But from you? Such a thing could bring a man to his knees and grovel for forgiveness.

But not Dabi. Never Dabi. Dabi doesn’t bow to anyone—not even angels with pretty wings and glowing halos.

“What’s the big fucking deal?” he scoffs and plants himself in one of your kitchen chairs, an apple in his hand and a neutral expression on his face to hide the pain burning at his guts. “So what, I had to lay low for a little while? In case that pretty little head of yours forgot: I’m a goddamn villain and you, good samaritan, are not.”

“The big fucking deal, Touya,” you reply through clenched teeth, hands balls in fists and shaking at your sides, “is you just exposed the number one hero in Japan and then disappear for two weeks. I thought you died. I thought they locked you up and threw away the fucking key.”

The sapphires in his skull alight with a fire you haven’t seen in a while, and he grumbles dangerously low, “Don’t think you can just sling that name around to get a reaction out of me, doll, because you ain’t gonna like what’ll happen.” before taking a bite out of his apple.

Closing the space between your bodies, you smack the cursed fruit out of his hand, demanding his attention be solely on you, your chest pressed against his, noses nearly touching as you bare your fangs down at him in hopes he’ll back down. He doesn’t, of course. Instead, he stands right up, towering over you, chair clattering to the floor from the sheer speed of him getting on his feet, his own fangs on display and covered in blood.

“Oh? What’s gonna happen?” you challenge. “Are you gonna disappear? Make me think you’re dying in a goddamn gutter? Or maybe you’ll reveal your identity on live TV for all of Japan to see, expose your family for the abuse and trauma they put you through, also out the number two hero as a fucking murderer, and then randomly not answer any of my calls or texts for two weeks and leave me here to wonder what the absolute fuck is going on? Oh wait, you already did that.”

When Dabi speaks, it’s a voice he barely even recognizes, a voice he’s only heard in the back of his head and never dared to speak aloud—unhinged, angry, scared. A voice he never, ever thought would be directed towards you. But you’re so stubborn, so hellbent on babying a man who has been on his own since he was a child. Though, he supposes he has no one to blame but himself. He is, after all, a goddamn villain, and you, good samaritan, are not.

“What the fuck else am I supposed to do?” The voice shakes with a fear he’s never wanted to show: a fear of losing you—the only thing he’s ever considered worth keeping. “Do you want Endeavor, my father, to come knocking at your door looking for me? Or maybe you want Hawks sending one of his stupid goddamn feathers in here to eavesdrop on you? Want the entire fucking hero commission here tearing your place apart? Do you want to go to prison because...because—” Because I love you.

It hangs in the air between your heaving bodies—a secret he thought he had kept close to his heart, but, looking into your tear-filled eyes, knows that his heart has always been on his sleeve around you. There’s no hiding anything from you because you’ve spent hours, days, weeks, months listening to all of the whispers trapped inside fragile bones and stringing together memories locked away inside of an unstable mind. You knew him before he even knew himself.

His eyes flit around your face in search of any signs of fleeting, any telltales of abandoning him now that you’ve seen all of his ugliness. Because love is such an ugly thing. Love makes people burn their bodies from the inside out just so someone will finally gaze at their flames. Love makes people spend years with the wrong person in hopes that one day they’ll receive the affections they’ve been craving all along. Love makes people foolish, irrational, idiotic. And Dabi has always considered himself smarter than the average man.

The anger in your eyes has dissipated down to pain, and he isn’t sure which one he preferred more. Your hand comes up to cup his cheeks, and he allows it for a breath’s moment before smacking it away as if it were offensive somehow, the limb falling limply by your side before balling into a fist. Anger returns, and it’s then he decides he’d rather have the anger than the hurt. It’s easier to cause a heart rate to spike than it is to stitch a wound.

“Because why, Dabi? Why the hell would I go to prison?” you dare to ask.

“Because we fuck around and they’d be able to trace you back to me.”

The words fall from his lips faster than he can catch them, splattering against your skin with an acid strong enough to strip you down to the bone, put on display and scared of scarring as it eats away at your body. It’s too late for regrets when he sees your eyes cloud over with an agony he can’t even begin to decipher. It wasn’t supposed to hurt you. It was supposed to piss you off, to rebuild the walls he allowed you to carefully deconstruct. He was supposed to make you hate him, to make you forget what the definition of love is and associate his face with villainous tasks not for the faint of heart.

He wasn’t supposed to hurt you.

“So that’s all this is?” you whisper, lowering your head and tucking your fangs back into your gums for safe-keeping. Your voice is strikingly low, quiet even, but that doesn’t stop each word from lacerating at Dabi’s barely-beating heart. “I’m just some fuck to you? Like the days I’ve spent rubbing your back because you drank too much the night before didn’t mean shit? Or the nights we’ve spent telling each other secrets and talking about a future without corrupted heroes was all just fun and games for you? None of it meant anything? I didn’t mean anything? Is that what you’re saying, Dabi?”

Venom sits in his enamel, eroding his tongue and any semblance of self-control he had.

It burns, it burns, it burns.

He thought he’d be used to burning by now—burning forests, burning bodies, burning himself. To be alive is to set yourself on fire, and Dabi bares the scars of his livelihood. It’s all he knows, all he was taught by a man who was determined to have the brightest flame the world has ever seen.

It burns, it burns, it burns.

Touya died in a self-inflicted fire set ablaze by a child who only wanted his father’s love and attention. Is Dabi going to die by yet another fire set ablaze by a man who doesn’t know how to allow himself to be loved?

It burns, it burns, it burns.

It burns to see you so hurt. It burns to know he’s the reason behind it. It burns to look in your cold eyes and see his own angry reflection in them. It burns to see your fists shake and wonder if you’re imagining driving them into his cheeks. It burns to know that he’s losing another home because even now, after all of these years, he still isn’t good enough.

The table sitting next to him splinters into a thousand little pieces as he drives his fist through the wood, all of his frustration and anger towards himself channeled into his bony knuckles. You don’t even flinch at the action, and that only seems to anger him even more. “I didn’t ask you to do any of that shit! You volunteered, in case you forgot, sweetcheeks. I didn’t come knocking at your door asking you to take care of me. You invited me in. You offered me a place to stay. You gave me food to eat, hot water to bathe in, a bed to sleep in. And what the fuck was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, no thank you, hot stranger, I’ll just stay homeless and sleep with rats in a cardboard box’?”

“You didn’t have to pretend to love me,” you shout back, eyes flitting around like a wild animal, fists trembling at your side, chest heaving as if you just ran a mile. “You didn’t have to rip yourself open and put on this whole ‘poor me, poor Dabi’ act if that’s how you really feel. You could’ve just been some typical useless roommate who pops in every now and then. You didn’t have to pretend. You...you didn’t have to lie to me.”

“Wait, I—”

“Oh, no, no it’s fine, Dabi. It’s fine. I’m the one who got caught up in their feelings. It was my mistake. I put way more thought into this than you did. It’s fine, really.”

But it isn’t fine. None of this is fine. The crystals forming in your eyes aren’t fine. The wounds splitting open on your chest aren’t fine. Your shaking hands and tight knuckles aren’t fine. His bleeding heart isn’t fine. His bulging throat clogged with every word he wished he could say isn’t fine. His fists filled with splitters and emotions aren’t fine.

Nothing is fine.

But you’re so determined to protect the treasure in your chest you thought was safe in the hands of a thief (what a foolish, naive thing to think, really), that you’re willing to believe any lie. As long as it’s sweeter than the bitter truth, it’ll go down easier. Deep down, you know the reality behind all of the smoke and mirrors, know it before Dabi runs over to your side with his puppy-dog eyes and dulled flames, have known it since the first time the criminal fell asleep in your arms: he trusts you. And that, for Dabi, means more than something as fleeting as love. Granted, lingering somewhere in that scarred heart of his, you know he loves you. He wouldn’t keep coming around if he didn’t. He wouldn’t steal for you, sneak away from his group for you, try (and fail miserably) to cook for you, include you in his plans, allow you to call him by his name… But loving something as explosive as Dabi means you’re bound to get burned at some point, and you have a funny feeling you’re going to need some salve tonight.

“I...I didn’t mean it like that,” Dabi rushes to reassure you, his hands trying their hardest to find the wounds he caused even though he doesn’t know the first thing about healing. “I just… I’m not the best when it comes to this emotional bullshit, y'know?”

Flinching away from his touch, you whisper, “I think you should go.”

“C’mon, doll—”

“I mean it, Dabi.” Your voice is firmer now, steadier, and you wrap your arms protectively around your body.

“You’re kidding, right?” he incredulously replies. “I didn’t mean it. You’ve gotta believe me, doll. It was just something stupid that slipped out, and you’re gonna kick me to the curb for it? Just toss me aside after everything we’ve been through? After everything I’ve told you? I let you call me my fucking name, and you’re cutting me out over a dumbass mistake?”

And right behind his sapphire eyes, tucked away in the corners of his skull, he can see the white hot flames again, burning away at the tips of his fingers, dancing across his tongue and leaving blisters, new scars decorating his heart and flooding his lungs. He’s choking and sputtering, and though he knows he has the power to stop them, he can’t help but lose himself in the familiar sensation. It feels good to be on fire again. It’s home, it’s all he knows, it’s all he can truly feel—just fire, fire, fire.

Dabi, if nothing, is a man meant to burn. He was born with a flame his body can barely contain, and he’s determined to allow the world to burn with him.

And though he knows how close he was to finding a new home in your bones, and he knows how close he was to having his sins forgiven and the bloods on his hands washed off, he knows he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve any of the smiles flashed at him, any of the seconds spent in your arms, any of the kisses exchanged between hungry mouths, any of the secrets placed on his lips for safe-keeping, any of the butterflies fluttering in his guts.

He was made for destruction, and he’ll die for it as well.

And though he doesn’t want to hurt you, he knows it’s inevitable. Fire doesn’t discriminate against who it burns. He’s living, breathing evidence of that.

When your eyes meet, he can already see the scars forming over them, can see his handprint seared onto the cornea and a new cautionary tale for you: never trust the man with blue eyes to match his blue flames.

“It’s time to go, Dabi,” you state, jaw tight and twitching with anger.

He sneers down at you, “Don’t you mean Touya?”

“He died a long time ago, remember?”

You might as well slapped him in the face, spat in his eye, curse his name and everything he stands for. It hurts more than his own flames ever will—the ice in your scarred eyes, the gates closing around your soul, your fingers curling in on themselves, your lips sewing themselves shut. You’re closing yourself off to him, and he has no idea what to do now that you’ve changed all of the locks and threw away the keys. He’s over, done with, nothing more than the same traumatized child willing to burn himself alive just to have someone look at him for more than a second.

He’s Touya Todoroki: young, naive, driven, boisterous, eager to see the world and be a part of it, ready to prove himself worthy of being born.

He’s Dabi: self-destructive, sadistic, crude, violent, determined to tear the world apart, ready to prove how hypocritical heroes truly are.

He’s neither: scared, lost, unsure if he ever really was any of that, not quite the boy who wants his father’s love but not quite the man who wants to destroy him, unsteady on his feet as he tries to find his place in this ever-shifting world.

He’s both: driven, self-destructive, naive, eager to see the world, determined to tear it apart, ready to prove himself worthy of being born and show how hypocritical heroes truly are.

He doesn’t know who he is anymore, who he wants to be.

All he knows is you’ve given up on him, and that hurts more than any flame that has touched his skin before.

He leaves without another word, no more venom flung at you to add to the scars he’s left, no more furniture broken with shaking fists and scabbed knuckles, no more fiery eyes and sharp tongues. Just a man who has lost the only home he ever truly had.

The third time you call Dabi his name, he learns that love, as dangerous as it is, can heal even the deepest of wounds, and he’s ready to rid himself of the scars that have haunted his skin for as long as he dares to remember.

He isn’t sure how he’s wound up in front of your apartment, rain pouring down on him because his life was never a cliche until he met you, alcohol sitting heavy in his stomach and grounding his feet, new burns spreading across his abdomen and tainting what little skin he has left. He doesn’t want you to see them. He doesn’t want your fingers to trace the spaces his flames have violated and stained with their hatred. He doesn’t want your eyes to flash with pity as they scan him. He doesn’t want your lips to turn down into a frown when you open your door and see his soaked body, crooked grin on his face because everything about him is a little crooked, old staples missing and new ones in new places, his chest cracked open and put on display for you.

He isn’t sure what he’s hoping to get out of this surprise visitation. A part of him hopes to see you angry, because if you’re angry you care, and he isn’t sure how fit he is for a world where you no longer care about him. A part of him hopes to see you apathetic, because that would confirm the belief he isn’t worth anything anymore, and that would make destroying himself a little easier. Another, smaller part of him, hopes to see you happy, to see relief wash your features and erase the fight you two had about love and other fickle things. It might be impossible at this point, but he’s never been one for easy goals.

All Dabi truly knows, however, is he wants to see you. It’s really as simple as that, and though he isn’t a simple man and doesn’t like simple things, the desire to see you is that—simple. It’s been haunting him since he stumbled out of your apartment blinded with anger and fear. How long has it been since he’s stood here? A week? Two weeks? A month? Time becomes such a messy thing when it’s spent trying to find the next surefire way to burn your bones.

Despite the clothes clinging to his skin, he feels naked, stripped of all of his armor and put on display for you to use and dispose however you please. Dabi isn’t the type to come crawling back to places he isn’t wanted. He’d much rather fake his own death and fly under the radar for years until he’s long forgotten about. But Dabi has also never been the type to look at the stars and try to find someone’s name written in them. He’s never been the type to try to find a face in a sea of people bustling about their days without having to worry about how they’re going to make the world know about them. He’s never tried to find meaning in the clouds or why some planets revolve around stars together while others just crash into each other.

But then he met you and suddenly, he cared. He cared about why some birds hid from the rain while others embraced it. He cared about why stars liked to hide and where they disappeared to. He cared about why some wounds healed and served as a cautionary tale and why others stuck around and served as a personality trait. He cared about Touya Todoroki—the boy whose only dream was to be what his father wanted and to be loved by those who were in his life. And that, he thinks, is the scariest thing he’s ever done. To hate is easy, it’s simple, and though he’s not a simple man and doesn’t like simple things, he loved it. He loved being able to burn those who hurt him and have his world be as simple as: if it isn’t beneficial, turn it to ashes. Black and white and blue. That’s all it was.

Then he saw you look at him as if he had personally strung the stars in the sky for you and suddenly, the universe seemed a lot bigger than sick mothers and neglectful fathers.

He still doesn’t quite understand it and, truth be told, he doesn’t think he ever wants to understand it. For once in his life, he’s okay with leaving this mystery unsolved. He’s okay with having more questions than answers. He’s okay with having an unfinished puzzle and not turning over furniture looking for the right piece to complete the picture.

As long as he has you, he’s okay with finding out who Touya could have been before he burned him to ashes.

The light from your apartment floods his sensitive eyes when you swing the door open, and he almost misses the confusion that flashes across your face before you settle for a guarded expression.

“What are you doing here?” It, like most things, is a simple question, but it still hurts nonetheless, especially when paired with your arms crossing over your body and your tone pointedly flat.

And, like most things, the answer is simple: “I wanted to see you, baby.”

You quirk an eyebrow up, but the rest of you remain emotionless, detached. “Baby? That’s a new one.”

He grins. “I’ve been trying out a lot of new things lately.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Oh, you know, calling you baby. Sleeping by myself. Not killing everyone who pisses me off. Admitting when I fuck up.”

What little amusement you allow to seep through is promptly sealed shut behind a frown, and you wrap your arms tighter around your torso in an effort to protect yourself from his charm. “You can’t just show up here and apologize and think that fixes everything. You really hurt me, Dabi.”

“But you haven’t heard the other new things I’ve been trying.”

You huff, knowing once Dabi has his sights on something it’s near impossible to distract him. He’s headstrong, determined, and that’s one of the many reasons you fell in love with him (and got burned for it). “Fine, I’ll listen. But we aren’t doing it out here in the rain. I’m cold and tired and want to finish my tea.”

For the first time in weeks, you allow him in your home, and it pains him how much hasn’t changed. While his entire world was falling apart, the same shoes have stayed by your front door, the same throw blanket has been strewn across the back of your couch, the same kettle sits on your stovetop, the same jackets hang on your coat rack, and you’ve even managed to find the same table to replace the one he smashed. Your life has remained the same without him, and that is something worth shedding a tear over if he could.

He tries to sit on your couch, but you quickly stop him. “You’re soaking wet,” you reason, and motion for him to go to the bathroom. “I think I have some of your old clothes around here somewhere. Wait there and I’ll bring them to you.”

Thankfully, your compassion has remained the same as well. As he stands in your small bathroom built for one person, rain and the last of his ego dripping off of him, he’s reminded of the first time your paths crossed, when he passed out in an alleyway due to overuse of his quirk and woke up in a bed that smelled like tea leaves, old books, and love. He remembers wandering into the kitchen and finding you humming to yourself, a robe wrapped tightly around your body, two mugs of tea on your table, comfort radiating off of your skin and flooding the tiny space. He remembers how high you had jumped when you realized he had woken up, how quickly you rushed to make sure he knew where the bathroom was and how to properly work your shower so he may bathe, how you had a plate full of food ready for him when he returned to your kitchen a clean man.

He remembers asking you why let a strange, scary-looking man who was unconscious in a shady alley sleep in your home, and you simply replied over your mug, “because you look like someone who doesn’t receive help often.” It was so simple then, and he wasn’t used to simplicity. So ke kept coming around, trying to unravel the mystery of why such a sweet person would help such a tainted one, kept asking questions and prodding at your brain in hopes that maybe he’d find out you’re just as sick as he is. That was never the case, of course. It was and always has been as simple as you being a good person and him being someone in need of a home.

He’s drunk and nostalgic, which is not a good combination for men with shattered souls and too many scars to keep track of and generous people with giving hearts and healing words. And although a part of him feels as if he’s taking advantage of the kindness you have shown him, he can’t bring himself to feel guilty. Maybe it’s the selfish animal in his heart that refuses to release its sharp teeth. Maybe it’s how even after all of these months spent together, you manage to find a way to surprise him. Maybe, just maybe, he’s finally ready to accept the love you’ve been offering him. Whatever it is that’s fueling this selfish desire to lock you away in his chest, nestled right between his lungs, safe from the others with sharp teeth and even sharper tongues, he’s allowing it to roam free and take whatever it wants.

He strips himself of his clothing just in time for you to knock at the door, your gentle voice ringing through the wood. “I found some clothes.”

“Well, bring ‘em in,” he replies.

“Are you naked?”

He rolls his eyes, though you can’t see him. “C’mon, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“But—”

“Just open the door, baby.”

His voice is soft as he says it—so soft, in fact, you aren’t sure if you heard him correctly. But you did, and you’re more than aware of the fact that you’re about to see him soaked down to the bone and as naked as the moon in the sky. Hesitantly, you open the door just enough to accommodate your arm, and right when you slide your handful of clothes through the crack, Dabi’s fingers brush against yours. Electricity runs down your skin—hot, familiar, exhilarating. It steals the breath from your lungs, makes you feel as if the wooden floor beneath your feet is shifting, reminds you of how good it felt to have his rough skin pressed against yours. It’s far too tempting to rip the door open and drink in the sight of the man who holds your heart in his scarred palm, and if you still weren’t so hurt over his words, you might have. You almost think Dabi is going to do it, but, much to your surprise, he doesn’t.

“Do you mind closing the door? The draft is a little cold.” He isn’t being ornery about it. There’s no sneer to his voice. He’s almost...kind about it. Tender. Something you never thought you would associate with the man who just weeks ago plotted to murder his younger brother in order to seek revenge against his father.

You nearly slam in the door in your haste to close it and stutter out, “S-Sorry!” before scrambling to your couch. Whoever this Dabi is, you aren’t sure. The last time you saw him, he was angry, hurt, ready to burn everything he has ever known in a vain attempt to feel something other than the pain throbbing in his chest. He was a wounded animal lashing out at anything that dared to try to get close to him. He was a jaded man who never thought himself worthy of kindness. He was impulsive, impatient, self-destructive, and, above all else, vengeful. Whoever has come knocking at your door is not the man who walked out of it. This man, whoever he may be, is humble, quiet, hesitant, and retrospective.

He’s also drunk and has been out wandering in the rain.

Dabi joins you on the couch before your mind can start spinning in circles, his white hair still sticking to his face and droplets cascading down his face, sapphire orbs shining with something you can’t quite put your finger on but still shakes you down to your core. He isn’t irate. He isn’t breaking furniture or complaining about Shigaraki’s next foolish move or ranting about how Endeavor has foiled his latest plan or about how he doesn’t trust Hawks and all of his easy smiles and charming laughter. He’s calm, his hands resting on his knees and eyes resting on your face, searching for something—a sign you’re ready to listen. And despite the wounds you’re still tending to and the bandages on your skin from all of the venomous words he flung at you, your heart and mind are open and willing to take whatever he wants to give you.

It’s an odd feeling to know you’re still okay with this man and all of his thick walls and bloodied hands even after he’s shown you the part of him he keeps buried underneath sneers and a mask of disinterest. Before his temper was turn towards you, you never believed him capable of murder, of violence, of all of those plans he stays up late stringing together and comes home battered and bruised from trying to execute. Before you saw how easily his hands can destroy, he was simply Dabi: the man you found face down and drowning in his own trauma. Now there’s burn marks on your furniture and soul in the shape of his palms, and though you aren’t too sure where to take the next step, you’re still wanting to take it regardless.

Topaz flits from your lips and back up to your eyes, the crystals dripping from his snow hair causing him to look ethereal. A hesitant Dabi is a rare sight, but a beautiful one nonetheless. “Do you want—”

“You must be cold,” you blurt out, shocking the both of you.

He cocks an eyebrow and the smirk you’re all too familiar with returns to his cracked lips. You’re nervous, fluttery, nerves causing you to act more erratic and unsure of yourself. It’s cute, he thinks, cute how you go from so stubborn and closed off to a school girl trying to keep the butterflies in her stomach from crawling up her throat. It’s also a relief to see you get jumpy around him like you used to before he kissed you until your minds turned to mush and your fingers tangled with his hair and he pinned you down to your mattress, bodies tangled so tightly together he wasn’t sure where he began and where you ended. You still care. “Yeah, rain is pretty cold.”

You nod a little too eagerly. “I’ll make you some tea.”

“You go do that, doll.”

“And I can get you a blanket.”

“If you want.”

“And I can make you some food.”

“Sure. I could eat.”

“And I’ll… I’ll be back!”

“Don’t be gone too long.”

He watches you leave with a grin full of amusement and affection, and that does nothing to help ease the anxiety rolling around in your gut. You feel clumsy, skittish, for all of the wrong reasons. You want to kiss him. You want to shake the water out of his shaggy hair and pull on the ends of it while his lips attack your neck. You want to wrap your legs around his waist and feel his thighs flex underneath you as he tries to pull you as close as possible. You want to hear all of those breathless moans that tumble from his lips whenever you nibble on his collarbone. You want to lose yourself in him. Forget the anger, the hurt, the nights spent shivering because you didn’t have him next to you, the mornings spent drinking tea alone and making enough food for one person. He’s back, and you’re almost certain he was forgiven before the moon disappeared from the sky the night he left.

You can feel his eyes burning a hole in your back as you prep your kettle to boil some water, watching the way your hands shake as you turn the burner on and how you nearly drop the lid to it, and you know for a fact he has that same smirk on his lips. Why are you so damn nervous around him now? He’s buried himself in you too many times to count, has whispered the most obscene things in your ear, has seen you at your most raw and unfiltered, and now you’ve turned into a neurotic mess? Why is your stomach doing somersaults and why is your heart slamming itself in your ribcage and why does your throat feel too large for your neck?

Because this Dabi isn’t the Dabi who left. You know in the deepest parts of your guts, past the pain and the hesitance, whoever is sitting on your couch is not the man who broke your table. And even if there’s alcohol swimming in his veins and an ego in need of nursing, there’s something alarmingly self-aware twinkling in his sapphires, something that lets you know he knows. He knows he hurt you. He knows he wasn’t in the right. He knows he bit the only hand that was willing and wanting to feed him. He knows your knuckles still bare his teeth marks. He knows it’s going to take more than a simple fuck to make everything okay again. Because, for the first time, it isn’t going to be simple with you. It isn’t going to be as simple as him needing a bandage and you pulling out a first aid kit. It isn’t going to be as simple as him being angry at the world and you helping him get lost in the stars. And he’s okay with it. He’s okay reopening any wounds that didn’t heal quite right. He’s okay with spilling every single word sitting in his guts. He’s okay complicating himself if that means making things easy for you. Because, like almost everything else that has to do with you, you’re simply worth it.

He speaks up while you’re digging through your closet trying to find a blanket suitable for him, his voice laced with an odd mixture of hesitance and bemusement. “While you’re being all fidgety and shit, can I tell you the other new things I’ve been trying?”

“If you want.” You echo his previous words, careful to keep the anxiety out of your voice, as you prepare to make a meal for him.

Though you can’t see him, he smiles—a real smile for once. No sarcasm or scorn buried underneath taut muscle. A genuine smile with genuine happiness and genuine love. As scary as it is, it’s something he could get used to if he doesn’t keep himself on a leash, but he thinks he might be okay with that. “I looked at myself in the mirror the day after I left.”

That stops all of your tense movements in their tracks. Mirrors have been Dabi’s worst fear since the day you met him, because they contain his worst enemy. He’s avoided them, broken them, used the shards to puncture his heart and lacerate his lungs. He’s covered them, screamed at them, tried to erase them from his memory. To look at himself in the mirror is to face himself head-on, and that’s something you never thought you’d see. “How was that?”

He chuckles, deep and sorrowful, a sound that comes from the bittersweet emotions he’s destroyed his feet trying to run from. “I fucking hated it. I’m a real scary looking bastard, eh?”

“No.” The word tumbles out of your mouth with a resoluteness Dabi never thought himself worthy of. Your eyes are full of conviction once they meet with his, your jaw set in the way that lets him know there isn’t anything that will change your mind.

It’s adorable how deeply you think he deserves love even after he’s shown you how much it can hurt, and he can’t help but chuckle at how quickly your demeanor can change when it comes to matters like self-hate and forgiveness. “Did you lose your eyesight while I was gone? Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I ain’t the prettiest face around here.”

You chew on your lip, careful that the words that leave your mouth help soothe the wounds on his mind. “I don’t care about your scars or your staples. I don’t care about the blood and gore. None of that matters.”

“Oh? Then what does? Because last I checked, society only likes pretty people with pretty quirks and pretty lives. Society doesn’t give a flying fuck about ugly bastards like me with ugly quirks and ugly lives.”

Dabi doesn’t expect you to answer, but you’ve always found ways to surprise him. The food on the kitchen counter is long forgotten about as you close the space between you two, your body just mere inches away from his. It’s the closest you’ve been since that night, and he has to fight the urge to pull you down on his lap. He doesn’t need to, apparently, because you’re practically sitting on it as your fingers trace over his brow bone with a touch so gentle, he could weep right then and there.

“What matters,” you whisper, “is how much your eyes shine when you laugh.” And then, your finger is tracing the corners of his mouth, ghosting over his lips. “What matters is how soft your lips are when they’re pressed on me.” And then, down the hollow of his throat down to his collarbone. “What matters is how you always smell like stale cigarettes and campfires.” And then, down his chest and right on the beginning of his abdomen. “What matters is how safe I feel when you’re holding me.” And finally, your palm rests right above his left peck, right over his hammering heart. “What matters is your passion, your drive, your determination. I don’t give a damn what society thinks about you. I think you’re beautiful, Touya.”

He knows it’s technically impossible but he swears he feels fireworks in his chest—bombastic, ribcage-breaking, heart-shattering, soul-cracking passion tearing his muscles apart until all that’s left is a body full of love. He loves you, and you think he’s beautiful, and he’s almost certain that, in this moment, everything is right in the world. “Can this beautiful man kiss you?” he breathes out, his eyes pleading with you to allow him to show you just how you’ve managed to piece him back together.

“Only if I can kiss him back,” you shyly reply.

If Dabi ever doubted the existence of angels, he knows now how terribly wrong he was, how utterly pessimistic and downright ignorant it was to doubt ethereal lives when he has one right here in his arms, sweet lips pressed against his, legs wrapped around his waist, arms pulling him closer and closer until your chests are touching and there’s not an inch of space between you two. Flashes of gold and thrones and feathers cross his mind as he breathes you in—all of the things he used to deny but now longs for. He wants to rule heaven with you, wants to make new worlds where other angels can’t follow and look down at him in disapproval, where he can’t hear their conspiratorial whispers of the saint who fell in love with the sinner, where he’s free to love you and worship you and allow his temporal hands roam your celestial body.

Dabi is a man who was born of corruption and gluttony and has fallen head over heels in love with purity and selflessness, and though he doubts he will ever think of himself worthy of such things, it won’t stop him from indulging. He is, after all, a bit greedy himself.

When his tongue brushes against yours and the taste of beer explodes in your mouth, you’re uncomfortably aware of the fact that only one of you is sober. You pull away, much to yours and his disappointment, but rest your forehead on his so you’re never too far from him. If you could, you would sew yourself to his skin, bury yourself in his bones and make a home out of his veins, play a prayer of love and devotion on loop so he knows that no matter how much heaven may shun sinners and all of their scars, you’re capable of a little rebellion every now and then.

But for now, while intoxication is a factor in a matter that should be dealt with a clear mind, you’ll settle for holding his hand.

“Dabi, you’re—”

“Drunk,” he finishes for you, a sort of sad smile on his face. “If it makes you feel better, I’m way more sober now.”

It’s a joke to help calm the guilt rolling around in your guts, you know it, and you brush your fingers against the corner of his mouth, wondering how long it’s been since he’s smiled and how often he might now. “Will you regret any of this in the morning?”

It stabs him right in the heart to hear such a question full of hesitance and apprehension asked so quietly, if he weren’t so dead set on catching every word that falls from your lips he might not have heard you. He feels the way your shoulders shake, can tell you’re just barely holding back tears, and he presses his hand to the back of your head to guide your face to the crook of his neck where you’re free to cry and hiccup however much you need. “I could never regret anything when it comes to you, baby. Why the tears?”

“I just…” A shaky sigh falls from your lips, your tears mixing with the droplets still clinging to his hair. “I thought I lost you before and now you’re back and I know technically you’re drunk but I know how sincere you are and it’s all just so—”

His fingers begin to massage circles into your shoulder blades, and he presses his lips to the side of your head, nose full of your scent and trying its best to burn it into his memory. “Babe.”

“Y-Yeah?” you hiccup.

“Fuckin’ breathe. It’s okay. It’s all okay. You didn’t lose me. I’m right here, baby, right fuckin’ here, and I’m not going anywhere. Not again. I fucked up, okay? I fucked up real bad and I know I did. I promise you, I’m not really drunk at all. I mean, I had a good buzz going on when I first showed up, but being here with you, talking with you, sobered me up real quick.”

And he sounds so genuine, so full of love and honesty, you can’t help but tangle your fingers in his hair, pull him so close you can feel his heartbeat against yours, bury your face right next to his jugular and commit mortality to memory. You cry until your eyes are almost swollen shut. You cry until your heart feels too large for your chest. You cry until your breath is a stuttering mess.

You cry for Dabi and all of the pain he’s carried around with him and no place to put it. You cry for Touya and all of the homes he’s lost and all of the times he was never enough. You cry for yourself and how deeply you love a man who only believes himself worthy of destruction. You cry for lost potential and empty promises of better tomorrows. You cry for broken furniture and shattered hearts because no one ever warned you love wasn’t easy. You cry and cry and cry until your voice is hoarse and the only thing you can taste is the salt cascading down your face.

And Dabi holds you through it all. His hands run up and down your back, gently rocking both of your bodies to a tune only he knows, his lips pressed against your head in hopes you can feel the adoration seeping out of his body. He allows you to unleash all of the emotions he’s stirred up in you. He catches every tear that falls from your eyes, thankful he’s unable to shed his own.

Once the world has stopped shifting and you’re able to steady yourself, he carries you to your bed without another word, a tender kiss against your forehead before he turns to leave.

“Where are you going?” you ask, barely managing to whisper.

He smiles down gently at you. “You left some food out. I was gonna put it away then crawl in bed.”

“Don’t care. Come to bed now.”

“Your wish is my command.”

With your face tucked away in his chest, your arms wrapped around his torso, and your legs tangled with his, Dabi falls into a peaceful sleep for the very first time since he learned that family will always be your first disappointment.

The fourth time you call Dabi by his name, he finally allows himself to drown in the emotions he’s spent his entire life learning to swim away from.

The sinner wakes up with angel feathers around his body, the spot where your body laid empty and cold but scent still clinging onto the sheets. He quickly finds himself in a familiar routine of glaring at the nosy sun peeking through curtains and violating his eyes, cursing his nocturnal nature and how much easier it is to be himself in front of the moon and stars. After contemplating if going back to sleep is worth it (it isn’t), he drags his body out of bed and into a warm shower. The smell of your shampoo is somewhere to be found in the leftover steam of your own shower, and he smiles to himself when he remembers where he’s at: home. And it isn’t a home where dishes are broken and voices crack and plead. It isn’t a home where fear sits in the living room and stress waits for him in the kitchen. It isn’t a home where he’s expected to be an adult with obligations without ever knowing what it’s like to be a child full of wonder.

It’s a home where angels sing in the kitchen as they cook breakfast while he tries to wash his sins away in the bathroom and that, he thinks, is the closest to perfection he will ever get.

He walks into the kitchen with a towel around his waist and his scars on full display—new ones angry and red, old ones melancholy and purple—and, for once, he isn’t afraid. He doesn't try to hide them under baggy clothes and jeering words. He allows your eyes to run over them and wince at the fresh ones and squint at the old ones, because he knows you aren’t disgusted by them, you don’t pity him, you accept them as they are—reminders of times where he strayed too close to the fire.

“Morning, baby,” he says around a yawn as he sits at your table.

You smile softly at him and how easy he finds it to be around you. “You’re really laying the ‘baby’ stuff on thick, huh?”

“I mean, you only let me call you a cockslut when you’re being one, and I don’t see you on your knees right now so…”

Flustered, you quickly turn back around to tend to the salmon and eggs you’ve been cooking, probably adding far too much salt but trying to not pay attention to how much your hands are shaking. This causes Dabi to laugh—gentle, deep, melodic in a sense, carefree and raspy. “Oh, so you think you’re Mr. Funny Man, hm?” you challenge, though you don’t dare face him.

“I think I’m downright hilarious, baby.”

“Well, that makes one of us.”

“Whatever you say, baby.”

You swat a tea towel at him, which he quickly dodges with a grin, and you roll your eyes. “You aren’t giving up any time soon, are you?”

“Do I ever? Baby.”

“Point taken.”

Breakfast is eaten in comfortable silence—Dabi radiating a happiness you never thought possible, you soaking it all in with a sense of relief. He takes his time as he eats, as if he’s savoring every flavor crawling around his tongue, contemplative as his teeth shred his food to tiny pieces. You admire the sight of his furrowed brow and bright eyes as you sip on your tea, unsure of what to say and worried what you do want to say will scare him away. So rather than choke on the words sitting in the back of your throat, you take this opportunity to inspect his body. After all, it isn’t every day Dabi is comfortably shirtless, especially in the sun’s rays where all of his flaws are visible for anyone and everyone to see.

You spot the newer burns sitting close to his hips, not quite as wrathful as the older ones resting on his chest, but still containing a torment you don’t think you’ll ever understand firsthand (and you doubt he’d want you to). When he first began showing up at your doorstep and all you knew about him was he looked different than anyone else you knew, you used to tell yourself stories about his scars—how he got them, how painful they were, which ones are newer than the others, which ones were self-inflicted and which ones were done by a resentful hand, how they all come together for form a man who’s become a sort of expert when dealing with macabre things.

If it bothers him to have your attention so focused on things he tries so hard to hide, he’s never said anything about it. When he first noticed how fixated you were on his scars, he cupped your chin and tilted your head up, forcing you to look at his sapphires full of curiosity and hesitance.

“Little distracted there, doll,” he observed.

“Do they hurt?”

He blinked, unsure of what to make of your harmless tone. “Not really. If I get new ones, they hurt like a motherfucker, but I get used to it after a few days.”

“Are they hard to take care of?”

“No. I’ve been taking care of them for a while now so it’s not a big deal.”

Your fingers gently traced the staples on his collarbone, careful to not pluck at any, not a hint of disgust to be found on your angelic face. “Can you teach me how?”

He jolted back and immediately guarded himself behind walls high enough to reach the heavens. Suspicion clouded his eyes, laced through his tone and made his muscles more rigid. “Why?”

“So I can help you take care of them,” you replied, as if everything were really that simple, and Dabi swore he saw a flash of angel wings fluttering on your back.

Back in the present, Dabi watches your eyes fill with nostalgia, a small smile on your face as your fingers trace the rim of your mug. He thinks he can stare at you all day if you would allow him to. He thinks he could spend the rest of forever memorizing all of the expressions you make as you try to dissect mortality and why seraphic beings are so fascinated with it. He knows that eventually, sacrifices will have to be made and one of you will lose themself serving a god who doesn’t like those in love with vengeance while the other one tries to pluck their own eyes out so they may be blind to how much suffering they’ve caused. But, for now, he’s happy being the fool in love who flew too close to the sun.

“Little distracted there, baby,” he chuckles, gathering up your dishes and placing them in the sink. “Am I just that handsome?”

“You never did teach me how to help take care of them,” you reply with a somber tone.

The mug he’s holding nearly slips out of his hand when your words reach his ears. So you really were thinking about morality and all of its ugliness. He tries his hardest to keep his voice light, to not show how much he envies angels and how easy ignorance is for them. “They aren’t yours to take care of.”

“No, but I’d like to help.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Because I love you. There is it again, that goddamn sentence that always manages to stick itself to the roof of your mouth. You’re choking on it, trying to allow oxygen to flow through lungs that are turning inside out because you can’t seem to find the courage to say you love a sinner in a world that shuns blood and fire. Acid fills your throat as your lips try to form the words burning at your gums. I love you, I love you, I love you. Why is it so hard to say? Why is love such a scary thing even though it presents itself as a cure for everything wrong in the world? Why does your kitchen seem smaller than before? Why are there black spots dancing in front of your eyes? Why is Dabi so afraid of anything he can’t burn and why are you afraid of giving him a reason to leave?

“Because…?” he prompts you, oblivious to your inner turmoil.

You try to flash an easy smile at him, though you fear it may look strangled. “Because I don’t want you to bleed everywhere if you miss a spot.”

That certainly isn’t the answer he was expecting given the way a chuckle stutters out of his throat, but he finds himself laughing until he’s nearly bent at the waist and struggling to catch his breath. It’s a beautiful sound, one full of long-lost joy and too many cigarettes smoked under a full moon, one that cups your heart and kisses it tenderly. “Well, I don’t want to ruin any more furniture,” he hums. “Better teach ya’ the secrets to my staples and how to make this mug oh-so pretty.”

After dishes have been washed and food has been stored away, you usher Dabi back to the bathroom and pull out the first aid kit you’ve learned to keep handy. He guides you with a firm hand and soft voice, tells you how to properly disinfect the burns and where to place the staples so they hold everything together, teaches you how to keep your fingers from shaking and how to not wince whenever metal punctures flesh. Keeping someone from falling apart shouldn’t feel so intimate, but with every staple placed into taut skin a jolt of something warm, something precious, something so fragile you’re afraid if you acknowledge it it’ll fall apart, spreads across your chest and causes sunlight to pour out of your hands.

With every brush of your fingers, the sinner is slowly learning to admire sunrises and how they highlight all of the things he tries to hide in the night. It’s not an easy task, and he struggles to fight the urge to find solace in galaxies littered across the sky, but if it means he can admire your face under the rays then he’ll bear through it all. You’re so close to him—the closest you’ve been in weeks. He can see every eyelash, every pore, every bit of stardust swimming under your skin and all of the oceans running through your veins. His body might contain destruction, but yours contains creation—the secrets to all of the universes and how to create life out of pure love. And maybe it’s a bit of an oxymoron to have such opposing things crash together, but Dabi is not a simple man and he doesn’t like simple things.

“Can I tell you the other new things I’ve been trying?” he asks timidly.

You look up in a pair of frightened sapphires and nod slowly, shyly. “Yes.”

Long, slender fingers stop your hand from placing another staple into him, and rough lips kiss all of the suns in your palms. His voice shakes when he speaks, nearly as much as his soul does, but he still forces the words out. “I’ve been trying out this...thing. It’s pretty fuckin’ scary. To be honest, I never thought I’d try it. And to be even more honest, I thought it was too late for me to try it. I thought it came with an expiration date, y’know? Like those credit card offers you get in the mail that say some bullshit like, ‘This offer is only good for the next two weeks! Sign up now!’ But recently, I learned that now is the perfect time to try it.”

“And what is it?”

The air is filled with anticipation, with words that have sat in throats for far too long, with feelings that have been locked away in chests, with pasts that have refused to die, with futures that may never live, with closets overfilling with skeletons. It’s suffocating, terrifying, absolutely world-shattering. But with your gift of creation, Dabi can destroy as much as he wants without worrying about leaving any new nasty scars on planets. He’s free to be himself, to unleash as much fire as he wants, and you’ll be right behind him, sweeping up ashes and leaving life in their wake.

“Love.”

Once the word drips from his tongue and lands right on your chest, the world stops turning. Stars can no longer be found and the moon buried itself in a black hole and oceans stop their waves. Angels have stopped fussing about forgiveness and gods are no longer worried about who deserves to be smited next. The entire universe and beyond has ceased to expand because all that matters in this moment is how Dabi’s heart is no longer caged and you’re no longer afraid to play with fire.

Tears fill your eyes before you can stop them, and Dabi brushes his thumb across your eyelashes. “You love me.” It isn’t a question, and it certainly doesn’t need an answer, but he offers you one anyway.

“I love you, and I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to realize.”

If the sinner didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought he heard the angels begin to sing. But trivial things like sins and purity, heaven and hell, angels and demons, don’t matter because none of them could ever feel as freeing as loving you. He’s no longer bound by the past and all of its bloodshed, and he thinks it’s okay to forget it sometimes. His fingers shake as they brush tears away you didn’t even know you have shed, careful to not taint your divine skin with his infernal hands, a shy sort of smile on your lips as you pull his body closer to yours. He protests that you’ll get blood on your clothes, and you shush him by telling him you’ve always been fascinated with mortals anyway, and neither of you are sure who initiated it but your lips are slotting together and you remember why heaven never felt like home.

Before you could get lost in how good it feels to not have to worry about serving a vengeful god, Dabi picks you up and carries you to your bedroom, chest flush against yours and hearts beating in sync. He’s gentle as he lays you on your bed, careful to not disturb your wings and all of the feathers falling from your back. His fingers graze your thighs, and for a moment he fears he may be cast down to the deepest pits of hell before he’s able to worship you the way you deserve. But then, you pull his face down to yours and kiss him as if he hasn’t spent his entire life in search of his next big sin and, suddenly, hell is worth being dragged through as long as it means he gets to hold your hand.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips. “I love you, I love you, I fucking love you, angel.”

Shaky fingers trace his jawline as if he were going to crumble to desk any second. “I love you, too. It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay. Everything is okay.”

He didn’t even realize he had blood droplets welling in his eyes until you gently wiped them away, fingertips glistening with newly formed rubies and trembling as you try to get rid of any evidence of sadness. Rather than trying to voice all of the emotions crawling up his throat, he kisses the wet pads of your digits, a silent thank you for teaching him that even the most corrupt of souls can be saved. Cracked lips trace over soft skin, and though it serves as a reminder of the different worlds you serve, the villain can’t help but lose himself in all of the pretty little noises falling from your mouth. It’s hypnotizing how you can make something as simple as a few breathy moans sound like the same harps in the clouds he’s spent his entire life trying to run away from. He’s barely taken your shirt and pants off and you’re already heaving underneath him—the visual reassurance he needed to know that you’ve been waiting for this moment just as eagerly as he had. And right as he lowers his head towards your thighs to provide the relief you’ve both needed, you stop him short, trembling hand finding purchase in his snowy locks.

“Angel…?” Sapphires full of questions scan your face, but he waits for you to speak, waits for your explanation, waits for you. He’s spent his entire life waiting for someone—something—like you, what’s a few more seconds?

You look hesitant—eyes darting around the room, incisors digging into your lower lip, heart thumping in the hollow in your throat—and, if Dabi didn’t know any better, scared. “I...uh...I’m unprepared.”

He blinks up at you. “I’m not following. What do you mean ‘unprepared’? No condoms? I’m fairly certain I’ve fried all of my swimmers so there’s a very small chance you’ll get knocked up, and I promise you no one has touched me in years so there’s no risk of any infections. There’s always Plan B too if I still have a few stubborn lil’ guys desperate to create a crotch goblin and—”

“No,” you cut him off, the heels of your hands digging into your eyes. “I haven’t...y’know...taken care of things down south in a while…”

A laugh bubbles up his throat once he realizes what your implications are. You haven’t shaved. He’s covered in nightmarish scars and staples, lanky body trying to destroy itself every second he’s alive, and you’re worried about some body hair? It almost pains him to think that you’re so self-conscious of something so miniscule, so human, so mundane it doesn’t even deserve a second thought. Who turned you away for keeping one of your temporal traits? Who shunned you for wanting to be mortal?

“Angel,” he breathes between chuckles, his knuckles brushing against your cheek and pulling your hands away from your face. “Have you looked at me at all? Like, really looked at me?”

You meekly nod.

“Then you’ll know that I’m the last person to give a fuck about some hair. Hell, I can’t even grow my own body hair because it’s all burned to shit. Your body hair is a part of you, therefore, I love it. I don’t care if you grow it, shave it, wax it, whatever. That’s your choice. So don’t be so ashamed of it, yeah? If you can look past my fuckin’ terrifying scars, I can look past a few hairs, okay?”

Rough fingers trace a soft cheek, and you find yourself nodding again, spreading your legs and allowing him access to the place he craves to be most. You’re completely and utterly intoxicating looking down at him through unshed crystals, fingers playing with the strands of his hairs while he tries to memorize how you look in this exact moment because he’s sure this is the closest to heaven he’ll ever get. He’s tender as he traces your soaking slit with his calloused digit, careful to not rush you nor taint you with the impermanence of humanity. A bit of stardust falls out of your mouth when you moan out his name, and he’s disappointed in himself for not bringing a mason jar so he may keep all of your celestial beauty on a shelf as a reminder that not everything is as ugly as he is. Still, he considers himself the luckiest mortal to ever grace this earth to see you wriggling underneath him, see how your mouth goes slack when his finger brushes against your swollen clit, hear how soft your pleas for more are, to know that even the holiest of angels are capable of a little sin.

“What’s that, baby?” he coos down at you, fingers never leaving the apex of your thighs.

The mewl you let out is cut short by a whimper as he drags his fingers down your fluttering hole, gathering up all of your juices and licking them clean, sapphires never leaving your face. It’s the most erotic thing you’ve been blessed enough to see, so fucking sexy and world-shattering as he brings his hand down to grind his palm against your throbbing heat. Lowering his body over yours, he nips at the sensitive shell of your ear, licking and sucking on the afflicted skin until you’re bucking your hips against his hand.

“S’matter, sweetheart?” he asks with feigned sympathy. “Can’t handle a little teasing?”

But, oh god, if only you knew how he’s barely hanging on. This last shred of control he’s somehow maintained is about to burst at the seams, tear his world to shreds until all he knows is you and all of your feathers and glittering halo. He’s a mere mortal who somehow found a way to break into heaven, and he’s about to lose himself amongst all of the clouds if he lets go. He can’t, not yet, not when he’s still unsure if you love him as much as he needs you, not when he’s afraid of you regretting having an affair with ephemeral beings. You deserve better than him, he’s sure of it, but you’re looking up at him with eyes full of stars and wonder and he can’t stop himself from breaking down his own walls he’s spent a lifetime building up.

Trembling hands grab at his neck, his hair, anything they can grasp to pull him closer, closer, closer. You want him, you need him, all of him, every last scar, every little staple, every tear he had shed before crying became impossible, every blood-curdling scream that has left his throat, every word that has dripped from his tongue, every insecurity that haunts his heart, everything. You need Dabi, you need Touya Todoroki, you need the man you found facedown in an alleyway, you need the man who shattered your soul and furniture, you need the man who came back and pieced them both back together. You need him, and he’s never been more sure of it than in this moment.

“I don’t think you’ll ever realize how beautiful you are,” he whispers, breath hot against your cool skin.

But before you can reply, his tongue is running along your folds and his hands are intensely gripping your hips and, oh my god, you swear you see stars on your ceiling. He drags his tongue across your pussy like a starved man, moaning and panting in sync with every noise that falls from your chest, determined to make you cum, desperate to earn every ounce of praise you’ve ever given him. Sapphires clouded with lust and love gaze up at you as a hot mouth toys with your desire, and you’re certain this is what it’s like to be worshiped in the best way possible. You brush your thumb against his cheek, a signal that he’s so good, the best possible devotee and all of his acts of worship won’t go in vain.

“F-F-Fuck,” you mewl, and earn a groan from him in return, the verberations hitting your pussy and causing supernovas to explode behind your eyes. “Oh, please, just like that! You’re so good, Dabi, so fucking good!”

His index finger replaces his tongue, languid strokes against your sopping heat as he tries to catch his breath. “Goddammit, you’re perfect.” His voice is somewhere between a moan and a whine, syllables catching in his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing as he attempts to swallow down all of the words flooding his esophagus. “You’re so fucking perfect for me and I’m so in love with you it hurts.” He’s in awe, completely and utterly in shock that such an innocent creature—one with stars in their skin and oceans in their veins and all of the secrets to love and life trapped between their flower-filled lungs—can look at him with such…adoration. Passion, trust, tenderness, bliss—they’re all there, swimming in your irises, dancing across your face, beating in your chest.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

And it isn’t out of pity. He isn’t some sick stray dog you found and nursed back to health and fell in love with along the way. You love him as if you had no other choice to, as if your heart would explode without him, as if the world would stop turning if he left. And, god, does he love you. He loves you like Icarus loved the sun—dangerously, self-destructive and self-aware, knowing he’ll never be worthy but still determined to be close with you at least once during this lifetime.

“I love you,” he murmurs again, fingers finding your cunt and mouth attaching itself to your clit again.

He’s a starved animal, deprived of love and selfishly taking as much as he can now that he’s in a home full of it. But there’s not a damn thing selfish about the way he loves you, about the way he circles his tongue around your clit, about the way hs dips his slender fingers into your throbbing heat and grazes your gummy walls, about how his other hand is touching as much of your soft skin as he can—your breasts, your nipples, your hips, the swell of your ass, your legs, just everything, everything, everything, so he knows what dedication feels like.

Bony hips rut against your mattress in a desperate search for some form of relief, but he can’t stop himself from devouring every little piece of you until your halo falls off and you’re free from the clutches of a cruel god. You were never truly happy amongst the clouds, were you? Always forced to be something you weren’t, forced to shun anyone who was less than perfect, forced to convert anyone who didn’t believe.

But now, in this moment, with the very same face you were taught to fear is buried between your legs, when you’re stripped down to the bone and all of your galaxies are setting the room alight, when your soul is naked and free to be handled by even the most scarred of hands… You’ve never felt more free.

Your fingers pull on his wintry locks in an attempt to bring him closer to you, closer to heaven and all of its promises of healing. “I—” Dabi cuts your whines off by flattening his tongue against your clit, sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves and pumping his fingers faster. “F-Fuck…! I’m so close! Wan’ cum, please, wan’ cum so badly!”

You’re barely hanging on. Flashes of gold dance in front of your eyes and you’re almost certain it’s a part of your halo falling, but who needs angels when the sinner right between your legs is the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen? He’s quivering—so overwhelmed with the trust you’ve given a man with bloodied hands to not taint your precious body that he can’t help but try to give you every ounce of reassurance that yes, he is trustworthy! He’s worthy! Even with scarlet stains on ivory skin and graveyards full of regrets, he’s been deemed worthy of one of heaven’s most pure angels.

The fifth time you call Dabi by his name, he’s ready to completely throw away his previous life in favor of everything holy and pure.

Your thighs are shaking around his head, hands tangling themselves in his hair and pulling for dear life, and he knows you’re so, so close to that final push that will permanently brand you a fellow sinner.

“Tell me how much you need it, angel,” he all but pleads against your pussy, the pace of his fingers becoming faster and sloppy, desperate, haphazard circles being drawn into your clit and hungry teeth nipping at your flesh. “Tell me how much you need me. Oh my fucking god, baby, please tell me how much you need it. I need to hear it. I need it, I need you.”

“Touya, I need you,” you cry out. It’s a demand—give me all of you and let me love every piece. It’s a plea—love me as much as I love you and don’t ever leave my side. It’s a promise—I’ll wash every wound for you if it means I get to be close to you. It’s everything Dabi could have ever wished for and more—an angel finally allowing themself to be free of their divine restraints in order to love the very same thing that might kill them. “Oh, fuck, I need you. I need you, I need you, I need you.”

You love him, you love him, you love him.

His ears are filled with your prayers and his mouth is full of your ambrosia and his chest is full of all of the suns you’ve saved for him, and, for a moment, he thinks he’d be okay if he died right now. Your whimpers are intoxicating, the very same harm that tempts every sinner with a tainted soul. The pleasure that has been rumbling and knotting deep within your gut finally snaps with a few licks to your clit and his knuckles brushing against your slick walls, and you’re sure that you’ve officially lost your heavenly status. It’s worth it. It’s all worth seeing Dabi looking up at you with his hypnotizing topazes and smile that would make God himself weep.

Unsteady hands grab at his sharp face, heavenly fingers swiping away the rubies that have begun to cascade down his cheeks and splash on the bed sheets, a wobbly smile on cracked lips.

“You’re crying,” you observe, tender as you try to pull him close to you. “Are you okay?”

But rather than answer you, Dabi takes both of your wrists in one of his hands and delicately pins them over your head, his other hand tracing your body with feather-light touches. He’s measured with his ministrations, hesitant, careful to keep all of the flaws trapped in his bones away from you and all of the galaxies in yours.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” The rubies are still falling from his topazes and all you can think of is how terribly wrong he is because he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Not the clouds in the sky, not the other angels fleeting around carelessly, not the supernovas you see every night, not the sunrises you see every morning. Nothing could measure up to how painfully beautiful it is watching Dabi finally accepting the love you’ve been trying to offer him for what feels like a lifetime.

“You’re gorgeous,” you manage to reply, voice and heart wobbly. “You’re handsome and beautiful and—”

Rough lips slotting against yours cuts you off, calloused fingers cupping your face, and when he finally releases his hold on you, you wrap your arms around his neck. He’s shaking like a lost child, salty tears and copper mixing with your hungry kisses and clashing against greedy tongues. Your chests heave together as sobs wrack both of your bodies, so desperate to finally be together after heaven was so determined to keep you separated. Fumbling hands rip the towel that clung to his hips off, and he sinks himself into you, his hips stuttering with every centimeter he pushes through.

The sixth time you call Dabi by his name, he understands why generations of men have gone to war to feel a fraction of what he’s drowning in—earth-shattering, skin-searing, sanity-robbing fulfillment.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head, stars exploding under your skin, you dig your fingernails into his back as he snaps his hips against yours. He’s lost in you and all of your healing touches, all of the prayers echoing in your chest, all of the feathers falling down your back and glitter falling down your face. He’s completely and utterly in love with the saint underneath him, and he silently vows to protect you until his dying breath.

“A-Angel,” he groans, his pace sloppy as he tries to chase the high only you can provide him. “Oh, f-fuck, you feel so fucking good. You’re so good to me. So goddamn perfect. I love you so fucking much. Please, don’t leave me.”

Somehow, some way, you manage to find your voice and sob, “I love you, Touya, love you more than anything! ‘M not going anywhere, I promise.”

The seventh time you call Dabi by his name, he allows the past to die and begins to set up a home for the future.

His hips stutter when the sound of his name falls on his ears, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck to bring your chest flush against his. “Say it again,” he pleads. “Say my name again. Just like that, baby, say it again.”

“Touya!”

The eighth time you call Dabi by his name, he swears he sees a flash of golden gates.

He kisses the hollow of your throat, watching the way your pulse skyrockets at his touch. “Again.”

“Touya!”

The ninth time you call Dabi by his name, he starts to feel galaxies form under his own skin, and it’s then he knows his sins have been forgiven.

He’s drunk on purity and innocence and forgiveness—all of the things he’s been denied his entire life but has found waiting for him in your ribcage. “Again.”

“Touya!”

And though he knows he’s just a greedy man who was lucky enough to catch the attention of God's greatest servant, he thinks he might be able to sit in heaven with you. He hopes, for just a moment, he might be able to see all of the golden gates and hear all of the harps that have haunted his dreams. His soul is still tainted with broken promises and broken families, but laying right underneath him, with the secret to healing and the key to salvation in their palm, is the very definition of love and everything right in the world.

And hovering right above you, with all of his passion and determination, with all of his flaws put on display for anyone to scrutinize, is a reminder of how beautiful and brave it is to be human in a world that only praises heavens. His cock brushes against your cervix, his lips kiss every inch of skin they can touch, his hands are buried in his hair, his voice is rough with desire and need, and nothing in heaven could ever be as breath-taking as Touya Todoroki.

“Oh my fucking god,” he moans against your skin. “I love you, angel. I need you.”

Lost in love and all of its intricacies, you whine and buck your hips up in sync with his, grinding your clit against his pelvis and sobbing at the galaxies you both are creating. Your own heaven to get lost in, where gods can’t spy and angels can’t judge. Where forgiveness is commonplace and greed is acceptable. Where family is who you choose it to be and love isn’t a tool for manipulation. Where everything is simple and pure and right.

And although Dabi is not a simple man and does not like simple things, Touya is learning that simplicity holds its own beauty worthy of loving.

The tenth time you call Dabi by his name, he’s ready to allow himself to be loved without any attachments, any suspicions, any ill will—the past, along with Dabi, have finally laid to rest.

“I love you, Touya,” you cry out, and he’s sure that it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. “I love you so much!”

You’re close to coming undone—he can feel how much your pussy is clamping down on him and how your voice becomes more and more distorted by hiccups and sobs. He just needs a little more, just a little more to add the finishing touches to your heaven and build a throne out of gold. Just a little more, just so he can relish in how sweet forgiveness tastes and how good it feels to no longer bear the burden of corruption.

“I love you too,” he whispers into your hair. “I love you more than anything in this world.”

His thrusts are becoming sloppier and sloppier with each passing minute, and he knows he’s only a few pumps away from spilling over. Cupping your face with his hands, he uses his thumb to brush away the tears streaming down your cheek and slots his lips against yours in a moment of heated passion.

“Cum, angel, cum for me,” he pleads, angling his cock brushes against scared places in you. “Cum for me, cum with me, just cum, baby, cum.”

Who would’ve known the creation of a new heaven could feel so sinful? Clutching his body to yours as much as you can, you cry out his name followed by a string of curses as your pussy milks him for every last drop he has. His bliss follows right after yours, and he bites down on your shoulder to keep himself from groaning too loudly so as to not drown out your melodic cries. Visions of gold and white and purity flash before his eyes as cock throbs inside of you.

His body goes limp on top of yours, breath shaky and bloody stars falling from his eyes. He thinks he can feel your fingers running through his hair, but he’s so high on simplicity and absolution he can’t seem to feel anything except your heart beating against his. Tender lips press against his sweaty temple, and he buries his face deeper into the crook of your neck.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles after a beat of silence. “For everything. I should’ve realized sooner. I…I should’ve been stronger.”

Delicately, you bring his face out of its hiding space to press your forehead against yours, examining the regret and hesitance dancing inside sapphire. “All that matters,” you whisper “is that you did realize. I’ll be your strength if you’re feeling weak. I’ll be your shoulder to cry on. There’s nothing to worry about. All is forgiven.”

And for the very first time in his life, Touya no longer feels like a sinner forced to bear the wrongdoings of a greedy man. He no longer feels like the product of selfishness and vanity gone awry. He no longer feels like a family secret buried in the backyard never to be spoken of or acknowledged.

Touya Todoroki feels like a man with his entire life ahead of him, an angel by his side and a heaven to come home to, and that, he thinks, is more than anyone with a past such as his can hope for.

#❀.mine #touya todoroki x reader #dabi x reader #touya x reader #todoroki x reader #touya todoroki smut #touya todoroki x you #toya todoroki x reader #toya todoroki x you #toya todoroki smut #dabi smut

[castiwls]

begin again - a.d

Paring; art x reader

Prompt; 'But on a Wednesday in a cafe. I watched it begin again.'

Requested; no

Warnings; slight age gap

Notes;your honor, i am in love <3 reqs and inbox are open !

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

Getting divorced has never been something that Art had considered. When the idea was first brought up it had left him floundering and unsure of what that would mean. He’d almost forgotten what life was like without someone constantly peering over his shoulder controlling and criticising every aspect of his life.

He’d never imagined it could be this freeing. 

The small bell above the door chimed softly pulling his attention from the window he’d previously been staring out of. Art felt his breath hitch slightly as he caught your eye for a brief moment.

You smiled at him before turning towards the counter and greeting the barista, your smile growing slightly at the idea of finally getting the caffeine you’d been craving all day. “Thank you.” You took the cup from the counter, letting the warmth seep into your hands. 

Just as you were reaching into your bag for your purse the feel of someone brushing a hand across your lower back caused you to pause, a small gasp escaping you.

The man who had previously been in the window smiled down at you before handing the barista some cash. You opened your mouth to object but he simply shook his head before gesturing to his table.

A small blush covered your cheeks as you quickly followed him back to the table. Taking a seat you placed your cup down before letting out a breath to try and calm the butterflies which seemed to be forming in your stomach.

“You didn’t have to do that.” 

The man shrugged, leaning back into his seat. “I wanted to.” He pursed his lips as he watched you look down at your cup, your cheeks only growing reder. “Thanks,” You said softly.

He nodded simply watching you for a moment before sitting forward and holding out a hand. “I’m Art.” He smiled watching as your eyes widened slightly.

You knew you’d recognised him. “Like the tennis player?” You questioned placing your hand in his. Art nodded his lip quirking slightly. “Wow.” You laughed quietly. “You know, I have a friend who would kill to be in this position.”

He laughed pulling his hand back after a moment. You couldn’t help but notice just how attractive he was the longer you looked at him. “Well.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I guess it’s a good thing your friend isn’t here.” He joked, feeling a small sense of pride at the small laugh which escaped you.

“Yeah, she uh… she's not the most inconspicuous person.” You shook your head fondly. “She’d probably alert the whole street.”

He grinned at you for a moment. “So. You never told me your name.” He took a sip from his drink watching as you placed your own down. “Oh. Sorry.” you laughed nervously before quickly introducing yourself. 

Art nodded for a moment. “That’s a beautiful name.” 

You blushed looking down to the table as you felt the butterflies in your stomach erupt in a flutter. This man was going to be the death of you. Reaching across the table he gently guided your chin back up with his hand. 

A small smile played on his lips as your eyes met his. His thumb rubbed against your jaw for a moment and you felt your breath catch in your throat. 

“I was gonna take a walk around the park if you want to come?” He questioned his head tilting slightly.

You swallowed praying that your face by some miracle wasn’t as red as the sun. “Yeah. I’d like that.” You said quietly. Art’s smile grew as he pulled back.

You frowned slightly as his touch disappeared. Finishing the last of his drink he stood from his chair stretching slightly.

You quickly followed grabbing your bag and taking another breath to compose yourself. This was nothing more than simply getting to know someone.

Except that someone just happened to be a very attractive, world-famous tennis player who you were pretty sure was a few years older than you. 

Art strode towards the door, pausing for you to catch up. He opened the door gently ushering you out before coming to walk beside you.

His hands itched to reach out and hold yours but he settled for pushing his hands into his pockets. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly smitten already. It had been so long since he’d met someone who he felt fully relaxed around.

The more you spoke the further he felt himself falling. You were the first person in years who didn’t only want to talk about tennis. You seemed genuinely interested in him and that alone had his heart fluttering.

Pausing by a pond you grinned softly watching as a few ducks floated happily. The feel of something brushing against your hand pulled your attention from the pond for a moment and you looked down to your side.

Art’s hand brushed yours again before you caught his hand in your own. As you intertwined your fingers he felt his breath catch in his throat. Turning your attention back to the ducks you let out a quiet sigh before shifting slightly closer and resting your head on his arm.

You held your breath for a moment as you felt him tense slightly before he quickly relaxed his arm, a large smile growing on his face as he looked down at you.

Maybe being divorced wasn’t that bad after all.

#challengers #art donaldson #art donaldson fic #art challengers #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson fanfiction #challengers movie #challengers x reader #mike faist #challengers x you #challengers 2024 #tashi duncan #.mine #.challengers #.artdonaldson

[fear-is-truth]

𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐓 | 𝕵𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘 𝕻𝖆𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖈𝖐 𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖍 x f!reader | mdni

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: suggestive themes. knifeplay. implied drugging. english is not my first language sorry

• note: first time writing for James… hope it’s not too bad

⟢ for my sister in sin @coentinim

. 𝜗℘

As you slowly come to, the world feels disorienting, like shards of memories trying to piece themselves back together.

Your throat is parched, the lingering taste of alcohol mixing with the remnants of sleep, leaving a bitter aftertaste.

Panic begins to rise. At first, you think it’s dark out, the pitch-black void pressing in on you from all sides. But then you notice the texture of fabric against your eyelids—your eyelashes flutter against the cloth of a blindfold.

What the fuck?

You try to move, but your arms refuse to budge. The tight bindings around your wrists intensify the sense of helplessness, and you realize you’re bound in a sitting position on a couch, the coarse rope digging into your skin.

“You’ve awakened, my dear,” a male voice intoned with a touch of amusement.

“Have a good sleep?”

That accent. It sounds.. off. As if it belongs to an old timey black and white film. You struggle to speak but the words catch in your throat.

“All in good time, my dear,” the voice replies, smooth as a frozen pond in winter.

“-All in good time, no need to rush.”

Fingertips graze your cheekbone, caressing the apple of your cheek. A coldness sends a shiver down your spine and you flinch away instinctively, shrinking into the back of the couch. The hand withdrew.

“Where am I? Who are you?”

you manage to croak, the words are dry and brittle like dead beetles tumbling out of your mouth.

“Ah, you don’t remember? Tsk. How about we take a little stroll down memory lane, my dear?”

the unseen stranger suggests, in a coaxing tone. You feel his hand tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Memories flicker back in snippets—checking in, the grandiose lobby with its opulent decor, the unnaturally lack of occupants. The carpet was a rich burgundy, that you remembered. There was a grey-haired, frumpy-looking old woman at the reception desk, her comically large glasses perched on her nose…

But beyond that, the rest are hazy, slipping through your grasp like sand. The hand that had been so gentle moments before now snake to your jaw, then to your neck, its fingers exerting pressure against your jugular.

You feel something icy, pressing against your collarbone gently. For a minute, it doesn’t puncture the skin. It slides down, passing the valley between your breasts and to your belly, perfectly cutting your chemise in half.

The cold steel of a blade sends a new wave of fear. The whisper of fabric ripping is nearly silent, but in the heightened state of your senses, it sounds more like thunder. You can’t see, can’t move, and now, with the threat of an unseen blade, you can’t even breathe properly.

Your nipples were hard, partly because of the chilly air, and partly… no. It can’t be. You weren’t aroused. It must’ve been the chill.

“Shh, my dear,”

the voice soothes, and was it your paranoia? Or did you sense a smile in his tone?

“we wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself struggling, now would we?”

You bite down on the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to stay still despite every instinct telling you to scream. The bindings on your wrists and ankles feel tighter than ever.

“Remember, I promised I’d help you recollect, his voice honeyed with sinister delight. As if it were a game. Which, to him, probably is.

“Let’s start with this charming hotel. Pray tell, do you happen to remember the name?”

“The Cortez?”

“Correct. After you checked in, you had a drink, didn’t you?” The voice continues. “A lovely glass of vermouth, just the way you like it. That’s when things started to get…interesting.”

“No,” you correct him suddenly, the memory snapping into place. “The bartender—Liz? she recommended absinthe. I tried that instead.”

The voice chuckles, delighted.

“Very good, darling,” he says, a hint of approval in his tone. “You are starting to remember.

You remember now—the taste of the drink, bitter yet oddly compelling, the way your vision had started to blur shortly after. You had felt dizzy, unsteady, and then... nothing. Until now.

Fuck, you’ve probably been roofied. This was some sort of sick, 1930’s roleplay.

“Why are you doing this?” you implore, summoning all the strength you can muster.

“What do you want from me?”

The blade withdraws, and you hear the sound of it being sheathed. The hand on your neck loosens its grip but doesn’t release you. Instead, it pulls you forward ever so slightly, until you can feel his breath brushing against your ear. A chill creeps into the air, as if the temperature has dropped ten degrees—surely his breath can’t be so cold that it sends goosebumps blooming across your skin.

“Why?” he echoes, almost amused.

“Because, my dear, I find you... fascinating.”

Ad if that explains everything. He lets go of your neck and begins pacing, the sound of his footsteps a metronome of dread. The blindfold is suddenly whipped off, and you blink against the harsh light.

As your eyes adjust, you see him—impeccably dressed in a black suit with a crisp white shirt and a perfectly tied bow tie. Dark hair is slicked back, and a neatly trimmed moustache sits above a pair of lips curled into a charming smile— the kind of smile the big bad wolf gives little red riding hood before he rips her throat out. All the better to eat you with, my dear.

“You’re my date to Devils Night, my dear.”

.

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

#american horror story #ahs #evan peters #ahs hotel #james patrick march x reader #jpm x reader #james patrick march #jpm #James March #kai anderson #tate langdon #kit walker #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson x y/n #tate langdon x y/n #kit walker x y/n #tate langdon x reader #jimmy darling #kyle spencer #kit walker x reader

[nanaminokanojo]

ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE | part 30

-meet cute? a cheesy musical number? forget it! love makes itself known to you through a minor car accident, a broken arm, and a treacherously charming temporary chauffeur

CHARACTERS: sukuna x you/reader | jjk characters

GENRE: full-length smau + prose | bad boy x good girl | college au | a lot of firsts | aged-up characters | strangers to lovers | smut | fluff | angst | ooc depictions - soft sukuna ftw

TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol and/or smoking | mentions of injury, promiscuity and bullying | pet names because they're cute with 2D men | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 30 next>>

A/N: Contains prose with panels in between. 6th panel is a video.

“I can do it, you know,” you insisted again

“Not having it. I should make sure you’re getting the best care.”

You arched a brow at him, sitting stiffly beside him, not really seeing how it was easier when he said, “Prop your legs up on my lap.”

“Huh?”

He didn’t explain any further and instead stood up, carrying you bridal style and propping you on the couch so your back was against the armrest while he gently placed your legs across his lap. “That wasn’t so hard, was it.”

“N-no, but –”

“No buts.”

As he moved around you, you couldn't help but stare at him. His usually intimidating demeanor softened as he meticulously put the ointment on the abrasions on your leg with a cotton swab. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his fingers deft and precise, eyes intense as he focused on his task. The room was silent except for your steady breathing. At that moment, Sukuna's care and attention just took center stage.

“You do this often?” you teased. “With other girls, I mean.”

He shook his head. “Consider yourself special.”

“I’m only special ‘cause you nearly killed me.” You laughed at your own joke, not meaning anything by it, about to swing your legs off of him when he held onto them, his hand quickly but very gently settling on the shin of your right leg. “I…I’m sorry. That wasn’t a nice thing to say.”

Sukuna leaned towards you, placing his free hand on the backrest. You met his gaze, not liking the turmoil that seemed to swirl in his dark eyes which, you noticed, were flecked with dark garnets and amethysts with the way the sun was shining on him.

“I’ll never hurt you,” he told you softly. He closed his eyes in agitation before flashing you an apologetic smile. “Not intentionally, anyway.”

“Stop saying it that way.”

“Hmm. What way?”

“Like you’re considering the possibility that you would.” You mustered all the courage you had, reached out and cupped his face, making him look at you. “You’ve taken care of me better than anyone so far. I am grateful for that. Don’t ever forget it.”

He placed his hands over yours. “How are you this gracious? It’s unsettling.”

At that, you felt your heart stutter. It’s happening again. “Is that bad?”

Sukuna laughed. “How is that even bad? I swear to god, you worry about the weirdest things. It’s good. It’s just that…”

“Just what?” You withdrew your hands, looking away. That overwhelming feeling akin to being submerged in cold water made its way from your toes to your chest, making it hard to breathe. “People hate me, you know? They hate me because they think I’m just pretending. I acted out once because I was too tired to deal with anyone, and they all started leaving, telling me I’m a –”

He didn’t like what he was hearing. “That’s ridiculous.”

You shook your head, trying to compose yourself. “But I admire you, Sukuna. You show everyone the real you, and they like you for it.

Unlike me, you thought, concealing the thought with a smile, but that was short-lived when he said his next words.

“I like you.”

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© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240526]

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

#sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna smau #sukuna fluff #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smau #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk smau #jjk smut #jjk fluff #social media au #smau #uraume