#In my head he gets a lot of money because of everything and opens his own nursery | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunsburns · 6 days

Text

good luck, babe!

pairing: tashi duncan x fem!reader x patrick zweig x art donaldson

summary: patrick zwieg invites tashi duncan and art donaldson to join him at your engagement party. you think they came to celebrate you and your new chapter and put the past behind you, rebuilding lost friendships, but tashi hopes to stop you from marrying a man you never wanted.

—or: the trio crashes your engagement party

word count: 10k+ (i have a serious problem)

contains: SMUT 18+, smut with a lot of plot, post-challengers movie, fluff & comfort, angst, tashi’s pov but lowkey get's mixed up around the end, foursome, oral (fem receiving), oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sed (wrap it before yall tap it), homewrecking, cheating but also not cheating but also a worse third thing, three-way make out, four-way make out, dom!tashi, patrick being nasty, art being a loser, no use of y/n, situationship that lasts 13 years.

author’s note: this fic is based on this request with inspo from the greatest song on earth: good luck, babe! it was supposed to be a quick smut blurb but at this point, you all know i can’t write smut without some kind of angsty plot. everyone is super messy and there is some of the dirtiest smut i’ve written so far (it’s only going to get worse from here). this one is a roller coaster.

It didn't make sense to any of them, how you could've possibly ended up with him.

Tashi remembered him from Stanford vividly. He came from a white-collared family, with daddy's money that bought him everything he could've ever asked for, yet he still wanted more. He played golf and polo and even dabbled with tennis but never had enough guts or skill to take it seriously. But his dad funded most of the programs and events at the school, so everyone had known him, his charm, his family, and his inability to stick to one thing even outside of sports. He clung onto a new girl every other week, a new girl wrapped around his finger only to be ultimately tossed aside like the rest of them.

"What a dick," Tashi remembered you saying once, stabbing your fork into your salad while glaring daggers at him from across the cafeteria as he bragged loudly to his fan club about how he beat you in a game of tennis.

Which he didn't.

You let him win.

His parents had been paying you to coach him, paid you extra every time you let him win a set or two against you, even if it was off the record. God knows you needed the money.

"I think I'm gonna quit." You said, turning back to glance at Tashi.

"About damn time," she snickered, shaking her head. "I told you you're wasting your time with him when you could be doing something better. Like training with me."

You had rolled your eyes and poked her arm with your fork, "If I'm still trailing after him this time next week, shoot me in the head and put me out of my misery."

Almost thirteen years later, you're walking around with his ring on your finger at your engagement party. A party where your fiancé announced your upcoming retirement after a tennis career run that Tashi would’ve killed for: a six-time US Open winner; two-time gold medalist at the Olympics; and brand deals that would ensure you and the next four generations of your family lived happily under your trust fund.

Clearly, you weren't marrying him for his money.

It made Tashi anxious, because, in some way, she could see that the marriage you will have with your fiancé is far too similar to how Tashi's would have been if she and Patrick stayed together.

Okay, maybe that was a reach.

Or maybe it's how it would've been if neither of you had gone up to Art and Patrick's hotel room that night. Or maybe it would've been Tashi's ring on your finger instead.

She couldn't shake the bitter taste in her mouth as she watched you laugh with him, your eyes lighting up in the way they always did when you were truly happy. It used to be her who made you smile like that. She remembered the late-night practices, the shared victories, and the quiet moments shared in the comfort of her dorm room. She remembered the promises you both made and dreams of dominating the tennis world together.

But she shouldn't dwell on the past, she shouldn't think about what-ifs. At least that's what Art tells her with a hand on her shoulder. Tashi glances at his hand, noting the wedding band that rests on his finger. The squeeze he gives is meant to be reassuring, but instead, it feels suffocating.

"I'll never know how he bagged her," Patrick tuts from her other side, a drink already in his hand. He holds it close to his mouth, biting the rim of the glass before taking a swig, his eyes never leaving you. His gaze is shameless, tracing the way your dress hugs your curves, how your hair shines under the chandelier lights, and the way your lips move as you speak.

"Lucky, lucky man..." Patrick shakes his head, a bitter edge to his voice.

A waiter passes by, offering hors d'oeuvres, and Patrick takes enough for the three of them for himself, setting his empty glass on the platter. As he stuffs an appetizer in his mouth, he begins to walk away, his eyes fixed on you.

"Where do you think you're going?" Art asks, his hand slipping from Tashi's shoulder.

Patrick spins around, mouth full, and shrugs. "To congratulate the future bride."

Art and Tashi stand there, watching, almost dumbfounded when they see Patrick sneak up behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and lifting you into the air. You shriek, champagne spilling from your glass, but once you see who it is, a wide smile breaks across your face.

"Patrick!" Tashi can hear you from across the hall. Patrick lifts you again, hoisting you into the air. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he spins you around, your laughter ringing out—a sweet melody that draws the attention of everyone nearby. "You made it!"

Tashi feels a pang of surprise.

You and Patrick had been in closer contact than she imagined. It stings, a reminder of the distance that had grown between you after her injury, much like the distance that had grown between Art and Patrick. She never knew you had turned to Patrick for comfort. Though it made sense—Patrick was the one you invited, not her, not Art. Patrick was the one who had to ask if he could bring two guests instead of the traditional plus-one.

But surely, you must have known that if you invited Patrick, Tashi and Art would come too, right?

Right?

The question churns a pit of dread in her stomach as Art starts to lead her closer to you out of courtesy.

Patrick's arms are wrapped tightly around your torso, his hand resting too low to be innocent, but you seem happy nonetheless. Happier in Patrick's arms than in the arms of your future husband. You embrace him close, the ring on your finger glimmering under the chandelier lights as you hold onto the back of his neck, your laughter finally subsiding as the spinning stops.

As Tashi and Art approach, the reality of the situation hits her harder. She's watching from the outside, a spectator to your happiness, feeling the sting of what could have been. She forces a smile; your engagement to the worst person in the world can't possibly be the thing that makes her break. Not after everything she's built since she started coaching.

Art tries to catch your eye, offering a polite smile once you let go of Patrick. "Hey."

"Hi," you say breathlessly, a bright smile across your face while Patrick swings his arm over your shoulder. You seem happy, almost relieved that Tashi and Art were here as if you doubted their attendance. "Wow, it's been so long. You guys look great."

"Thanks," Tashi finally says, the words weighing on her tongue like lead.

"You look beautiful," Art tells you, and it's rushed as if he's been trying to keep it to himself but couldn't help it once he was close enough to you.

Before you can get a word out, another arm wraps around your waist, discreetly pushing Patrick away from you to slide into your side. Patrick lets out an annoyed groan, stepping aside as your fiancé squeezes you tightly and says, "She does, doesn't she? Hey, killer."

You turn to him, about to say something, maybe greet him back, maybe introduce him to everyone. But he doesn't let you, he's leaning closer until his lips lock with yours. It takes you by surprise—you flinch at first before finally letting him kiss you properly, his hand cupping the back of your neck, pushing you as close to him as humanly possible.

Art lets out a low, awkward sigh while watching it happen before him, and Patrick rolls his eyes, stepping back in search of a waiter for another drink.

He holds onto you like you're a prize he's won. Almost as if he's been competing with everyone in the world to finally hold you and show you off. As if that's all you had to offer.

You blink, clearly embarrassed, as you clear your throat to disperse the awkward tension in the air. "These are some, uh," you stumble over your words before nodding towards Art, Tashi, and Patrick, "some old friends from college. I'm sure you remember—"

He's interrupting you again, reaching out with the hand that's not on you to shake Tashi's hand. He holds it tightly, his thumb pressing against her wedding ring. "Tashi Duncan, how could I ever forget? Still beautiful as ever."

She has to force herself to smile, for your sake. "Good to see you too—"

"You know," your fiancé starts, cutting her off, "I still remember the time you told me to suck a bag of dicks 'cause I took up your court time. Best day of my life."

"Yeah," Patrick laughs. He's found another glass of champagne to sip on, and it's by his lips when he says, "who doesn't love getting cussed out by Tashi."

You wince. "Patrick—"

"No, no. He's right. It's one out of a million. I took it as a compliement," your fiancé says, glancing at Tashi again, his eyes darting up and down, lingering on her wedding ring once more before she finally pulls her hand out of his grasp. He spots the arm Tashi has been clinging to. "Art Donaldson, I'm a big fan."

Art stiffens as if taken by surprise. "Really?"

Your fiancé is nodding, and when Art glances your way for a split second, he tugs you closer. "You're incredible. Watching you play, it's like, woah! He's killin' it out there. Too bad you've retired though, would've loved to see you play longer."

There's a faint redness to Art's face when he nods. "Oh, thank you."

"I've always wondered if I'd turn out the way you did if I stuck to tennis." Then he laughs, nudging your side. "If only this one put me to work like Tashi did to you, maybe we would've competed in the US Open a few times."

You snort and shake your head, the idea of watching the two of them even standing on the court together amusing you. "You couldn't beat Art if you tried."

Your fiancé shrugs. "Maybe Patrick."

"Stop kidding yourself. You can't even beat your nephew and he's twelve."

He hums, turning so that he'll face you. He holds your waist with both hands, caressing you gently. "You sure know your way into a man's heart, baby," he says lowly before kissing you again. It's rough and messy, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You shriek and press your hands against his chest. He doesn't let go immediately, peeking a glance towards the trio while kissing you.

Tashi feels a knot of disgust tightening in her stomach. The audacity of him to touch you like that in front of them, as if he’s marking his territory, sets her blood boiling just a little bit. God, did no one teach this guy any kind of etiquette?

She catches Art's expression out of the corner of her eye—his jaw is clenched as he turns to look away. Patrick's lips curl in a sneer, the glass in his hand trembling slightly. He fights the urge to throw it.

Your fiancé reaches down and gropes your ass over your silky white dress before finally separating from you.

You stand there, looking flushed and embarrassed, letting him whisper something in your ear before he walks off, joining a group of men who whistle and catcall at him as he nears them. Each jeer and hoot feels like a slap to the face.

"Uh, sorry," you apologize, unable to meet their eyes as you blindly wipe at your chin to fix your lipstick. "That was... I don't know what's gotten into him. He's not usually like this. He's, uh... he's great."

Patrick scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, real great."

Tashi can’t help but frown, her heart aching as she watches you fumble. "You can't possibly want to marry him," she wants to say, but the words get stuck in her throat. She can't bear to hear the answer, especially if it's the one she fears.

Art steps forward, his face a careful mask of neutrality. "If you’re happy," he says, but there's an edge to his tone, a challenge. The unspoken words hang heavily in the air: "Are you?"

You nod quickly, too quickly, as if trying to convince yourself as much as them. "Sure, sure. I mean, what’s not to be happy about? His family loves me. I'm retiring this year, and gonna spend more time with my family. Hopefully more time with some old friends?"

"Old friends?" Tashi repeats, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. The casual way you say it, as if years of distance and silence can be bridged with a few meetings, stings more than she cares to admit.

"Yeah, before I get busy with the baby."

"Baby?" Patrick's voice is sharp, almost disbelieving. "You’re pregnant?"

"What? No!" You quickly sputter, shaking your head. Then you pause, a thought crossing your mind and you lighten up a little bit, a hopeful smile gracing your face, "But I do want kids one day. I want three."

"Does he want kids?"

"We've talked about it, but he shuts it down all the time."

"You poor thing." Patrick puffs out, pinching your arm before reaching for your hand and leading you toward the bar. "Let's bring this conversation outside, ladies. I need a smoke. And you all need a drink stronger than his champagne."

The idea of fresh air and a strong drink is appealing. After grabbing a bottle of finely aged wine, the four of you make your way to the garden outside the grand hall. The shift from the stuffy indoor atmosphere to the cool night air is a relief.

The moonlight casts a silvery glow over the meticulously maintained garden, illuminating the path with a soft, ethereal light. You glow in your pretty white dress, the fabric shimmering as you take a seat on a patch of grass near the rose bushes. The scent of roses mingles with the crisp night air, creating a tranquil yet poignant backdrop. You glance up at the three of them who stand there, watching you.

Tashi raises a brow as you take a long swig of the wine. She didn't remember you to be much of a drinker.

"It's not that big of a deal," you say, passing her the bottle when she finally sits next to you.

It's as if her movement had woken the two guys and then Art takes a seat on your other side while Patrick lies down on the grass a few feet away to light a cigarette.

You pout, "If he doesn't want kids, then we won't have kids."

"But you want kids," Tashi reminds you, but it's more of a question as if she's wondering if that's truly what you want. Don't get her wrong, Tashi loves being a mother, she would kill anyone for Lily, but you wanting kids barely before confirming your retirement threw her off a little bit.

"Of course I do." You hiccup, reaching for the bottle again. "I'm not getting any younger. It's just... he'll come around."

"And if he doesn't?" Art asks, his voice gentle but probing.

"Can we not talk about that right now? I just want to get shitfaced and party."

"Now we're talkin'!" Patrick interjects, his grin wide as he takes a drag from his cigarette. The embers glow briefly in the dark.

"Come on, everybody gather." Patrick flicks his cigarette off to the rocky pathway and snags the bottle from Art's hands. He raises it, nodding at you with that same smirk he's had for years. Snarky, cocky, and yet endearing. "To celebrate new beginnings. Even if your future husband's a dick and can't make you cum nearly half as hard as I can. Good luck, babe."

The rest of you all make a noise of annoyance, rolling your eyes. "Seriously?"

"Shut the fuck up, Patrick," Art scoffs, though there's a faint smile tugging at his lips as you let a giggle slip out past your fake annoyance.

Patrick's smile only widens at the sound of his friends' protests. It reminds him of the good old years when his biggest worry was which shorts he'd wear to his next game. "Cheers!"

As the bottle is passed around, Tashi can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia mixed with bitterness. The comradery of the past clashes painfully with the reality of the present. Is this how things are going to be like now? Is this night a call for a truce, waving the white flag so that all of you could be friends again, now as adults, making plans for brunch and getting the kids together for birthday parties?

You take another sip from the bottle, your gaze drifting towards the moonlit sky. "To new beginnings," you repeat softly, though the hope in your voice is tinged with uncertainty.

Tashi leans back, her eyes lingering on you, a mix of longing and regret pooling in her heart. Art sits quietly beside her, lost in his thoughts, while Patrick’s laughter rings out, masking deeper sentiments beneath his forced cheerfulness. The chatter and music from the hall spill into the garden, the warm lights casting a golden glow over the scene. Patrick talks animatedly about the seasons he thinks he has left in him, and to Tashi's annoyance, you encourage him.

She shakes her head at the way Patrick's eyes light up, glancing at her with a knowing look. Despite her irritation, she can't deny the comfort of slipping back into their old dynamic.

Suddenly, Art hums thoughtfully. He has been mostly quiet, listening to the conversation with occasional quiet laughs. Now, as he puts down the empty bottle of wine, he looks at you, his eyes more alive than they have been in a long time. "I had a burger for the first time in years," he announces, a smile spreading across his face as if he is proud of it.

You gasp, perking up as you reach over to hold his hands. "How was it?"

"Amazing," Art says fondly, "like heaven inside a bun."

"You should've seen him," Tashi smirks, shoulder to shoulder with Patrick, playfully kicking Art. "He was drooling just looking at the menu."

He rolls his eyes, "I wasn't drooling." When you fall silent, he looks at you again, frowning. "You haven't had one in a while, have you?"

You shake your head, "No, I think the last time I had one was when we graduated."

Patrick scoffs, "Bullshit."

You laugh, "It's true! I've been very strict with my diet. And now that I've retired... I don't know..." You shrug, suddenly getting shy as Art starts tracing stars against the back of your hand. "There are so many options, I wouldn't know where to start."

"It doesn't have to be anything fancy," Tashi says.

"Pretty sure I saw an old diner on the way here," Patrick suggests. He stands, stretching and groaning before bending over to take Tashi's hand and help her up.

You sputter, watching them all start to stand before you. "Shut up, we're not driving, you're drunk."

"But sober enough to see how badly you want this," Patrick teases, waving a finger near your face and smirking. "You're drooling."

"No, I'm not!"

"Sure you are," Art joins in, pulling you up to your feet. He swipes a thumb at your chin, "Look right there, by your lip."

"Oh," Tashi grins, "I see it."

"Shut up, Tash, no you don't." The words fall from your lips before you can stop them. The old nickname fits too smoothly as if it hasn't been years since you've called her that. Tashi smiles, feeling like a teenager again, messing around with you. She starts to walk off, Art and Patrick following her while you stand there, dumbfounded and a little breathless from their teasing.

"Where are you going?"

"To get a burger?" Tashi shrugs, and she smirks at you, a mischievous smile that makes you wonder if any of you have ever grown up at all. "You coming or what?"

You try to be reasonable, "I can't just leave."

"We'll bring you back before anyone notices," Patrick bargains, jogging back to your side and taking your arm to lead you to the exit. "Lighten up, when was the last time you had some fun?"

You don't even look back.

You find yourself laughing, nodding as the four of you make your way out of the garden. The moonlight guides your steps, casting long shadows on the path.

The walk is a blur of laughter and shared stories, the kind of carefree joy that you haven't felt in years. Before long, you arrive at the diner. The neon lights buzz softly, casting a nostalgic glow over the parking lot. You can smell the greasy, comforting aroma of burgers and fries even before you step inside.

The few people in the diner stare, watching as what seems to be a runaway bride and three wedding guests stumble and giggle over each other, lips a little purple from the wine you've all had and ordering burgers to go.

Once you have your food, you all find yourselves sitting on the curb of the diner's parking lot, the warm night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Patrick hands out the burgers, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous light as he makes a show of presenting yours to you. "First bite in... how many years?"

"Too many," You take the burger with a chuckle, unwrapping it and taking a bite. "Oh my God," you mumble around your mouthful, "this is amazing."

Tashi watches you, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Told you."

Art takes a bite of his own burger, nodding in agreement. "There's nothing like it."

You shake your head, going in for more, "This is the greatest thing I've put in my mouth."

Patrick, already halfway through his, lets out a loud laugh, "Yeah, I bet."

The parking lot felt like a little bubble of the past, untouched by the years that had separated you. It was strange how easy it was to fall back into the rhythm of your old friendships, how natural it felt to banter and laugh as if no time had passed at all.

Tashi rolls her eyes, though you don't even seem phased by Patrick's joke. "I can't even get mad," you say, swallowing, "I feel like I'm eighteen again."

"Tell me about it," Art agrees. Then he pauses for a beat, chewing on her burger a little slower before turning to you. "You know, this reminds me of that time... when, you know."

"Oh," You snort and nod, scrunching up your face at the memory. "Yeah. It kinda does."

"What?" Patrick looks between the two of you, raising his brow in interest. "What time?"

"It was a long time ago," you tell him.

"Like back in Stanford," Art explains, and then he points between Tashi and Patrick with his burger, "when you two were still a thing."

Tashi sits up straight now, her full attention on you and Art. "Oh, really?"

"It was that time Patrick came for a surprise visit in the middle of our girls' night," you say, nodding your head at her, hoping she'd catch up with the memory. "And you kicked me out of your dorm so you and Patrick could... you know."

Tashi nods. "Have some alone time." She finishes for you.

She remembers that night well: you were both nestled in the haven of her dorm room, the soft glow of the television casting gentle shadows on the walls as the movie played on. You were curled up under her covers, your bodies intertwined, legs tangled together in a comforting knot. The world outside ceased to exist in those moments, leaving just the two of you in your little cocoon of comfort.

Tashi can still feel the sensation of your fingers running through her hair, the tender, rhythmic motion soothing her in a way nothing else could. The warmth of your touch lingered on her scalp, your fingers traced lazy patterns, and she remembered the way her body instinctively relaxed into yours.

But then came the knock on the door, and she felt her heart jump at her throat as she swung her legs out from under the covers and padded softly to the door.

When she opened the door, there stood Patrick, his presence almost surreal. He was holding a bouquet of carefully picked-out flowers, their vibrant colours contrasting sharply with the dim light of the hallway. His smirk was both nervous and charming

"You kicked her out?" Patrick gasps, and Tashi gives him a blank stare. He's acting as if he wasn't even there, as if he didn't stand by her desk while watching her scramble to clean up the mess the two of you made in her dorm and shove you out the door before locking it.

Patrick shrugs, that stupid smirk painted on his lips again before he finishes his burger. "Would've let you stay if it were up to me," he tells you, "The more, the merrier."

"No way," you poke your tongue at the inside of your cheek. "She wanted you all for herself."

"Please, I would've been too distracted with you to even give him my time of day," Tashi admits. "I did you a favor, Patrick. Saved you from blue balls."

He holds a hand to his heart. "I'm so honored."

"But anyway," you start, "while I was walking back to my dorm I bumped into Art, who got stood up on a date."

Patrick blinks, turning to Art. "You got stood up?"

"Was it that girl from marketing?" Tashi asks.

Art's cheeks start to turn red, the flush growing from his neck and up to his ears at the attention. "Yeah, she, uh, she bailed on me last minute."

"I remember you telling me the date went well," Patrick says. "That you guys went out late, bought takeout... you made out in your car," Then, to fuck with him, he adds, "You came in your pants 'cause she kissed your neck. Remember?"

"And that did happen," Art confesses begrudgingly, glaring at Patrick while Tashi laughs. "It’s just... it wasn't with her..."

"It... it was me," you admit.

Tashi wishes she could say she's surprised, but it's nearly impossible because anyone who knew you back in college knew very well about the big crush you harboured for a certain blonde. She knew the way you swooned after him, even if you never tried to admit it because it was too embarrassing.

"Wait, so," Tashi starts, poking at your side and drawing a nervous giggle from you. It makes her smile. "Is Art that guy you told me about, with the puppy eyes and pretty smile?"

"Okay," you puff out, blushing, "I did not say puppy eyes."

"You think I have puppy eyes?" Art asks you, his gaze softening.

When you take a few seconds too long to answer, Patrick claps his hands together and swings his arm over yours and Art's shoulders, pulling the two of you closer to him. "Aw," he teasingly coos at the two of you getting all flustered, "you think he has puppy eyes."

"It was so long ago," you say, running your hands over the soft fabric of your dress. "I don't even remember."

"I'm so sure you don't," Patrick hums, a knowing look in his eyes before he presses a sloppy kiss against your cheek.

You groan, shoving your hand in his face to push him off before you stumble to stand on your feet again, wiping your cheek from his spit. "You're disgusting," you huff, but there's no real bite in your words because there's a faint smile threatening to appear at the corners of your lips.

You stand there for a beat or two, brushing off your dress and feeling the weight of the night settling in. You stare down at the three of them sitting on the curb, the neon lights of the diner buzzing behind you. You can see the hall where your engagement party is from where you stand; you almost don't want to go back.

"Okay," you tuck your lower lip between your teeth as you hesitate, "this... this has been fun."

"Don't leave yet," Tashi says while Art's smile drops, his face falling in disappointment.

"Yeah," Patrick rushes to stand, reaching for you, "the party was just getting started."

"I really have to get back," you step away. "If anyone finds out I left, I'll hear about it for days. This has been great. Like, seriously, I don't think I've ever laughed this hard since before..." You trail off, your tongue getting tied as you glance at Tashi, then at her knee, covered by the length of her dark purple dress. You clear your throat. "Well, uh, I better go. But thank you again, for the beer and the burgers and the memories. I hope you guys can make it to the wedding."

You start to walk away before they can say anything. Like, on purpose, as if you know that if they tried to make you stay and ditch your party, you would. You would cave to their defences.

The sound of your heels is deafening. Tashi watches you go, she watches how you wrap your arms around yourself, and it all feels too similar to how she watched you go all those years ago and never chased after you.

"Don’t marry him," Tashi stands from the curb. She's shaky on her feet, taking long strides to walk past Patrick and hoping to catch up to you. She sees you freeze in your steps, barely out of the parking lot. You turn to look at her quickly, face falling in shock at her demand.

"What?" Your voice is quiet, hoping that your ears are betraying you.

Tashi slows down once she is close enough, the distance between you is almost nothing but the gap feels like miles. The red and blue lights from the neon sign blend into a deep purple against your skin, casting an ethereal glow that makes this moment feel suspended in time. She watches your face, sees the way your brows knit together, the flicker of anger and confusion in your eyes.

Her heart is pounding, the blood rushing in her ears almost drowning out her voice. But she forces herself to speak, her voice low and urgent. "Don’t marry him," she says again, each word feeling like it's being ripped from her chest. Her resolve, which had held firm all these years, finally crumbles.

Getting Patrick back into her life had been one of the most complicated, tangled pains she had ever undertaken. The late-night calls, the awkward meetings, the painstakingly slow rebuilding of trust between herself and Art.

None of it had been easy.

Yet, even with Patrick back, there had always been something missing—a void that only you could fill.

She looks into your eyes, her gaze unwavering, despite the tears welling up. "Please," she pleads, her voice breaking. "Please, don't marry him." The words hang heavy in the air, a desperate plea that carries years of longing and regret. She knows that having you back won't make up for the lost time, and won't magically fix all the mistakes and missed opportunities. But she can at least try, can at least fight for the chance to make things right.

"Tashi, you can't possibly be asking me to—"

"It’s not worth it," she tells you anyway, her voice trembling with the weight of unspoken truths. She knows it’s a risk, a gamble she's taking by laying her heart bare, but she can’t hold back any longer. The years of resentment, of silent longing, bubble to the surface, fueled by the sight of you with someone else's ring on your finger. It's a bitter pill to swallow, the realization that she resented you not for leaving, but for never coming back.

Why didn't you come back?

Tashi's words hang heavy in the air, a desperate plea born from years of unspoken desires and regrets. "Both of you want different things anyway. You don't love him," she continues, her voice raw with emotion, "it's not gonna last. One day you're gonna wake up in the middle of the night and realize I'm right. You'd hate to admit it, but I will be right. I am right. He doesn't deserve you. He's no good for you."

You scoff, "And you are?"

"You said it yourself," she presses on, her voice barely above a whisper, "You've never laughed the way you do with us. And you kept in touch with Patrick, so that's gotta mean something." It's a feeble attempt to grasp at straws. "Marrying him will just be another excuse, another stupid reason. I thought you were better than that."

Then she remembers that night before you left for London, back in 2012. It's like a distant memory now, a flicker of what could have been. The air was thick with anticipation, the tension palpable as you stood on the precipice of something new. She remembers the way your eyes met hers after your exchange with Art at the hotel bar, a brief greeting with an old friend, both of you at the peaks of your careers. It is a silent exchange of longing and regret. For a moment, it felt like time stood still, like the world was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

She remembers the smell of your perfume, the bitterness of the drink you were having and how she could taste it when she kissed you; tongue running over your teeth, nails clawing at skin, hair tangled between fingers, hot breaths and unkept promises and false apologies and a night of regret.

And then the morning came, and with it, you had to leave. And she never stopped you.

"Tashi… I can't just throw this all away for you. For any of you. You were the one who told me to leave."

"I know."

"Because you know everything, right? Because you know he's not good for me, you know it all."

"I know you."

"No, you don’t," you say, your voice tinged with hurt. "Not anymore.”

Tashi huffs, shaking her head before she reaches out, cupping your cheeks gently in her hands. Her lips hover over yours for a moment, a silent plea hanging in the air between you. She waits, her heart pounding in her chest, for you to make a move—to kiss her, to push her away, anything.

You gaze into her eyes, tears glistening in the dim light, before finally closing the distance between you. The kiss is tender, and bittersweet, a culmination of years of unspoken longing and regret. It's a brief moment of solace amid chaos.

Your hands dig into the nape of her neck, where the short ends of her dyed hair tickle the skin of your wrist. The heat of your engagement ring nearly burns her, the edge of the diamond scraping against her skin.

When you pull away, breathless, Tashi fears this will be the last time she will see you.

"Tashi, this doesn’t change anything," you say, your voice trembling.

"It changes everything," she whispers, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "You know it does."

But you step back, breaking the contact, the distance between you growing with each passing moment. "I have to go," you murmur, the weight of the decision heavy on your shoulders. "I need to think."

As you walk away, Tashi watches you go, her heart heavy with uncertainty. She clings to the memory of that fleeting moment, a glimmer of hope in the darkness.

Back in the hotel room, an uneasy silence settles among the trio. Tashi steps out of the shower, her mind a whirlpool of conflicting emotions. The press of your lips still lingers on her own, a persistent buzz that crawls under her skin.

As she rubs lotion into her arms, she takes her time, methodically moving over each inch of her skin as if she could somehow rub away the confusion and yearning. She finishes her skincare routine, staring at herself in the mirror, almost meeting the eyes of the eighteen-year-old girl who had her whole life ahead of her. It's a constant chant in her head not to dwell in the past.

She has to focus—she needs to find a way to pull Patrick Zweig out of the top 200 ranks and get him qualified for the US Open by the time the next season starts.

Speaking of the devil, when Tashi steps out of the bathroom, she finds Patrick lounging on the loveseat by the open window. Naturally, his shirt has found itself a home on the floor, and a cigarette dangles from his lips.

He perks up when she walks out, sitting up to greet her, "Don't beat yourself up."

Tashi rolls her eyes and climbs into the bed, letting herself sink into the soft comforter. "Shut the fuck up, Patrick. And put that shit out."

"I'm just saying," he shrugs, taking one last drag before flicking the cigarette out the window, grinning when he hears Tashi scoff. "She's a stubborn little shit," he says as the hotel door clicks open and Art walks in. Patrick hums, "Probably only marrying him to piss us off anyway. Been trying to talk her out of it for months. Never listens."

"She might listen to Tashi," Art says, turning to his wife with a hint of optimism in his voice. "Lily's asleep, by the way."

"Right, because my word is stronger than both of yours," Tashi retorts, pulling the blanket over her legs.

Art and Patrick glance at each other before nodding, "Yes."

"Well, yeah."

They all sit in silence for a while, each lost in their own little bubble. The hotel room is quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of the bedspread.

Art joins Tashi on the bed, absently flipping through the channels on the television, the remote clicking softly in his hand. Beside him, Tashi pretends to read a book, her eyes scanning the same sentence over and over again without really absorbing the words. Meanwhile, Patrick rummages through the mini fridge, the sound of bottles clinking and wrappers crinkling breaking the stillness.

A quiet knock on the door makes the three of them freeze, their heads snapping up in unison. They exchange hesitant glances, each wondering if they imagined it. Then three raps against the wood sound again, more insistent this time. Patrick scrambles to the door, Art and Tashi close behind him, their curiosity piqued and their hearts pounding.

Patrick swings the door open, and there you are, a sight for sore eyes. You're still in the same dress, though one of the straps has fallen off your shoulder, and your makeup is smudged around your eyes. You hold your phone close, dropping it from your ear.

"I tried calling," you say, turning your phone so they can see Patrick's contact, a simple 'pat' with a cute tennis ball emoji next to his nickname. "You never answered."

"My phone died." He shrugs.

You let your hand fall to your front, where your fingers pull on each other nervously. Tashi can't help but notice the lack of a ring on your finger all of a sudden. She raises her brows at you, a knowing look flashing across her face before she tells you, "Something's changed."

You roll your eyes and step into the room, sliding between Art and Patrick easily. "A lot has changed." You walk until you reach the middle of the room.

It's a big hotel room, not nearly as big as the ones Art and Tashi are used to staying in, but big and luxurious nonetheless. You fit in perfectly with your white gown and styled hair, a vision of elegance even in your dishevelled state.

You turn, facing the three of them again. "I hope whatever offer you guys were hinting at earlier still stands... I don't exactly have anywhere else to stay, unless I want to hear my mother telling me how she was right the entire night."

Tashi smirks. "You know I'm about to tell you the same thing too, right?" She closes the space between the two of you, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. Her nails brush against your jaw in a feather-light touch until her fingers pause below your lips.

"Yeah, I know."

You don't seem too upset about it. Instead, you're grinning, letting Tashi push her thumb between your lips. The gesture is intimate, charged with unspoken emotion. You're standing face-to-face when she says, "I told you so."

She leads you to sit on the bed, and you let her, nearly tripping over your heels before you land on the soft duvets. Tashi leans down, her nose brushing against yours, and you swallow your heart racing.

"You were right," you murmur. It's hard to maintain eye contact when your skin is buzzing with heat and when there's so much going on in the depths of her eyes that it dizzies you. "I hate it, though."

Her nose is cold against yours, a sharp contrast to the warmth of her breath. You let your eyes fall shut as she slowly traces patterns under your chin, pressing her thumb harder into your mouth before pulling it out. She catches the side of your face with it, making a mess with your spit.

She smiles, "I know you do."

Instinctively, and embarrassingly, there's a shiver rolling down your spine.

Tashi releases a small chuckle, and then, after a final moment, her lips fill in the small gap between you both. You sink into it immediately, heart rejoicing as her lips, warm and smooth, explore your own.

It's a little fumbly, nervous and making you tremble under her hands. Tashi loves every second of it. Her fingers grip your face tighter, mouth pressing to yours with more hunger as you wind your fingers into her hair and sigh. Between gasped breaths and soft sounds of enjoyment, she slips her tongue along your lower lip, and so you open your mouth a little wider.

Tashi ends up straddling you, making out like you're both teenagers again, putting on a show for Art and Patrick. The exhilarating butterflies twirling in your stomach match the memories, too.

You moan softly as she pulls away from your mouth, her attention shifting to your neck. As you watch Patrick and Art make their way to sit next to you on the bed, the bed dipping, you tilt your head to the side and open up your throat to Tashi. You whimper as you feel her lips drag over your exposed skin. She nibbles and sucks until she finds the sensitive part that makes you cry out.

"Fuck," you whimper. You tug on her air-dried curls, coaxing her back up to your lips so you can enjoy the feeling of her mouth on yours. Tashi sighs, and you can feel her smiling into it while beckoning Art and Patrick to join in.

Their lips are on you in a split second, with Art pressing soft, ticklish kisses against your collarbone, and Patrick sliding his tongue from your shoulder to the back of your ear. He's moaning at the taste of you, sucking a bruise under your jaw while digging his hand into the back of your hair.

He slowly starts to bring his sloppy kisses to your mouth, lips brushing against Tashi's and your own before she draws back. You whine, pouting as you watch her take a few steps away before making herself comfortable in the cushioned seats by a small dining table. You can't pout for too long, because now Patrick is kissing you, tugging softly at your hair until your back arches.

His tongue presses against yours, pressing as far back as he can reach, swallowing your every moan and whimper. You bring your hand up to scratch at his beard, then run your nails over his scalp. This is when Art starts to get a little bolder by running his hands up and down your thighs, pulling and pulling the long skirt of your dress until he reaches the end of it and he can touch your skin and take off your heels, tossing them aside somewhere.

Patrick traps your lower lip between his teeth, watching it bounce back into its place as he leans back just the slightest bit. You break apart with a whimper. Your half-lidded eyes meet his, then flick down to the trail of spit strung between your glistening lips. He stares at you, cheeks a little red as he smirks, "I've missed this. Missed you."

You smile, breathless as Art's hand makes its way up higher and higher and closer to your heat, his mouth is relentless with its attack at your neck. He grinds his crotch against the side of your leg and you cradle the back of his head with your other hand.

"You saw me last week, Patrick."

"Last week?" Art pulls away. His lips are parted, eyes a little dazed but focused enough to stare between you and Patrick in confusion. Tashi smirks from where she sits and shifts in her place.

"We're not all perfect, Art." You groan, rolling your eyes as Patrick laughs, reaching over you to start pulling down Art's pants who shifts in his place to let him. Once they're off, he looks at you, and it's embarrassing how fast you tangle together, melding together into a pathetic heap on the bed for Tashi and Patrick to see.

Your lips move in tandem, his soft, pouty lips slitting against yours with ease as you lead his hands to your chest and shove them under your dress.

Art squeezes and fondles your breasts over your bra, his hips jerking against your leg again, almost desperate as his boner presses against the fabric of your dress as it has fallen down again.

Tashi startles you as she settles behind, one knee on the bed while her other long leg steadies her on the carpeted floor below. You let her tilt you backward, parting you from Art and she draws you into an upside-down kiss. The salacious kiss leaves your legs parting for the two men beside you.

Patrick makes quick work of taking that damn dress off of you and you sputter out a pathetic moan when Art's soft hands tease your hardening nipples once Patrick gets half of it off.

Your dress eventually falls into a heap on the floor in front of the bed, you’d matched with it a white paired set underneath.

"No fucking way," You peek one eye open slightly to see Patrick scowling while Art runs his hands everywhere he can reach, across your stomach, your thighs, under your boobs, down your back.

Patrick tilts his head and groans, "I can't believe you wore this shit for him."

Your hand cups Tashi's jaw to deepen the kiss as you both ignore Patrick, only Art snorting out a laugh as he tugs his shirt over his head.

Patrick slots himself between your open legs, stopping just a breath short of your aching cunt to nip teasingly at your soft inner thigh before dragging his mouth up to your neck again. He revels in the moans he's able to draw from you as he finally comes to caress your face.

You pull away from Tashi and gasp in a breath. "Kiss me, Pat," You bite your lip, feeling your heart race as he eyes you up so openly.

"Beg me," He counters with a quirked brow, challenging you.

Your nose crinkles, "I'm not doing that."

"I'm not kissing you, then."

"Shut up and kiss her, Patrick," Tashi groans, attached to Art. She holds his face the same way she did with you, pulling him closer and letting the man crawl to her. But she's glaring at Patrick with venom behind it you know she can’t mean when she's trembling under Art's gentle touch as he slips off her silky nightgown.

"Come here," You beckon Patrick closer with a fiendish look in your half-lidded eyes.

"Yes, ma'am." Patrick nods, dazed as he obliges. "Anything you want, beautiful," His voice slightly slurs as the space between you diminishes once again. "I'll do anything for you," His husky voice drapes around your name like velvet as it's whispered against your plush lips.

Your hands easily find themselves tangled in Patrick's curly hair and tug him to your lips with aching want. You dive in immediately, lips meshing against and, eventually, catching against his chapped lips.

A moan escapes from your throat and he uses it as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. From there, it's another flurry of saliva, tongue and entirely too much white-hot pressure building below.

When you break for a breath, a string of saliva stretches between each of your red, puffy lips. Patrick groans at the sight and pulls you in for a slower, raw kiss that leaves you slick and trembling for more. When you pull apart again, Patrick plants a sweet kiss on Art's mouth before focusing back solely on you, his hand slowly approaching your white thong.

When he starts to rub, you moan into his mouth and start trailing your hand to his crotch, palming his dick. Patrick reciprocates easily and tugs at your lower lip with an impish look in his eyes.

Lips attack your neck again, pulling you higher up on the bed. You hear pants and clothes being shed from every angle around you before you're surrounded again, hands everywhere.

While Art pulls Patrick into a kiss, Tashi cups your face again and draws you into a gentle one as you settle between her legs, your back to her chest. You rest your head on Tashi's shoulder as you heave out another breath, her hands travelling from your navel to tracing shapes on your clit, over your wet panties, spreading your legs apart with her own.

"Please, Tash," you whimper as her fingers curl around the edge of the fabric and tug so it strains against your leaking cunt perfectly. She then decides to skim a whisper of her touch against your pulsing ache.

You gape as Patrick wraps his hand around Art's dick, stoking it, and he lets out the prettiest little whine. Patrick slowly works his way down Art's body, running his tongue between each curve of his muscles, collecting the sweat that's been building on his skin before wrapping his mouth around him, taking all of it in one insatiable bob of his head.

Tashi's nails tickle lightly up your stomach, then in the valley between your breasts and then back down again. It has you spiralling, arching your back as she presses a kiss at your neck.

"You're being so good," she coos into your ear. Your name is only a breath out of her mouth, and she's edging your clit with a gentle roughness that could only come from a woman of her calibre. Tashi pulls your panties aside and flicks and flits about your dripping cunt like she already knows how to make you come undone.

It makes you tremble. You'd sworn up and down earlier about how Tashi didn't know you anymore, and here she is, proving to you that she still does, that she knows every curve and divot of your body, that she still knows what makes you whimper and twitch.

Your hand quickly reaches behind you, between the heat of your back and her body and finds her clit and you try to emulate how she's making you weak. Each quiet gasp you earn from her has you moaning back tenfold under her saccharine trance and she quickly starts pumping two fingers into you.

One particular flick of Tashi's thumb on your clit coupled with her lips gliding against and sucking your own in a wanton kiss sends you over the edge. You moan and cum, back arching as you relentlessly force Tashi's hand against your cunt, searching for more delicious friction.

She takes you all, and lets you ride it all out on her fingers while swallowing every moan you let out in a lewd, wet kiss. Art and Patrick moan appreciatively at the two of you, then focus back on each other.

Before you're able to come down from your high, Art's shoving his come down Patrick's greedy throat. He swallows it all, pulling off Art's red-tipped cock with a vulgar pop that creates a trail of saliva in its wake.

Patrick smiles down at you and leans closer, and you think he's about to kiss you but then he swerves and kisses Tashi instead, who removes her hand from your cunt and slowly works it up his thigh until she cups his balls and gives them a gentle squeeze. He moans into her mouth, winking at you amid his impromptu make-out session you were tempted to join.

You shimmy back and turn on your stomach, positioning yourself between Tashi's long tanned legs. "Can I eat you out?" You ask while kissing up her leg, and you want to hear how much she needs you. You bite at your bottom lip as you nuzzle into her juicy cunt. "Tashi?" You look up at her from where your face is pressed against her. Her sweet smell makes you sigh as you tease your tongue with her hip bone. "Please, Tash, let me taste you."

"Yeah, go for it," Comes her breathless plea.

You finally pull her lips apart, revelling in how she squirms against your hold on her hips.

You're on your knees, trapped arching between Tashi's long legs when you hear Art clear his throat. You give one long lick up Tashi's twitching cunt before turning around with her slick dribbling down onto your chin to where Art has sidled up behind you.

Art crawls closer to you, "Can I touch you, beautiful?" He tilts your chin up as he awaits your answer.

When you nod, he easily descends upon your lips, placing a sure hand behind your head as he deepens the kiss into something absolutely filthy. As soon as you break apart, he kisses your shoulder, then down your spine.

Tashi guides you back to her. You allow her nails to tangle in your locks as she forces your head back down against her arching hips.

"Shit," Patrick huffs, rough hands reaching for the globes of your ass while Art's smoother ones trail up your spread, inner thighs. Tashi tugs at his dick a little harder, which has him panting against her lips.

Tashi gasps as you flick at her clit then quickly move to tease her entrance with the tip of your tongue. You flatten your tongue, dragging it across her length and repeat the motion until she whines for you to stop.

You slurp the combination of drool and slick as you pull away with a pussy-drunk smile. She meets it with a panting, dazed one and removes her hand from your hair to push her own out of her eyes while Patrick sucks at her neck.

"Ah!" You startle forward into Tashi's tits as Art finally breeches your entrance with his index finger.

"Eat our girl out, Art," Tashi motions for Art to lie down under your spread form to get a better angle. You can't deny that the new nickname drives you a little crazy. "Show her she's ours."

Art's soft hands draw another moan out of you as they assuredly grip your hips to keep you in place while he unleashes teasing licks against your pussy.

Tashi draws you back to her. You'd know that look anywhere—she's ready to cum.

"I want you," Her breath hitches around your name while your tongue steals the rest of her coherent words until she's a withering mess under your touch.

Her pornstar-worthy moans ring out across the room like a beautiful symphony. Tashi's wanton noises coupled with the wet whines you're unleashing against her folds until the two of you create the lewdest duet this hotel's ever heard.

She arches against the bedframe as she tells you her near release, tugging at your hair as she draws closer and closer to the edge.

Panting, she draws you against her lips for a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss.

"Fuck, Tashi," You groan against her plump lips, feeling your own impending orgasm drawing near. "You're so fucking hot, I-"

She cuts off your rambling with another wet kiss. Her tongue flicks out to tease yours before sucking it into her mouth with a lewd slurp. Your hand works alongside hers to leave her shaking and whimpering against your lips as she comes undone by your hand. You smack her cunt lightly, eating the groan she feeds into your open mouth as she rides it out.

Tashi eats your moans as they echo against your messy tangling of lips and tongues.

Art's fingers start to pick up a pace as Patrick, feeling left out, starts thrusting his throbbing cock in the middle of your sapphic kiss with Tashi. You eye the two with half-lidded eyes as you share Patrick's cock with her. After only a few moments in your mouth, Patrick pulls out and releases across Tashi's and your expectant tongues.

"So fucking good to me," Patrick pants as he splatters the last of his come across your faces with a shaky groan. "Best fucking orgasm ever, swear it," He says as he encases his lips around yours, swapping his cum between your mouths before moving to Tashi to do the same.

Art moves out from under you, offering your knees relief as he lays you back against Tashi's stomach to fuck into you.

It's a slow and cruel pace, only made crueller by how Patrick and Tashi touch you like they already know where you want to be touched. Each brunette takes a side, Patrick sucking your tit into his mouth while Tashi's mouth draws you in for a kiss. Her nails tickle at your other erect nipples until you're arching off of her and into Art's thrusts, making him whimper.

"Just like that," Art whines your name. "You're so fucking tight."

It's when Patrick and Tashi move their attention down to your clit that you know you're fucked. Patrick spreads your folds with two fingers, watching as intensely as Art does as his cock disappears in and out of your hole.

"He could've never made you feel like this, right?" Tashi rasps. "He has no strategy, no real game. Just a fucking waste of space. Could never make you feel this good, this loved."

You don't need her to say his name, you know what she means. You're panting, shaking your head against her shoulder. "Never."

"Told ya," Patrick laughs into your skin. "Make her cum, Art. C'mon, man."

"Fuck- please," You whimper, nodding. "I need to come, baby-" Without warning, you arch off of Tashi. Neither she nor Patrick stops their jerks against your clit as you gasp, eyes rolling back in your head with the thrum of a second wave creeping up on you with a steady building heat. Waves of pleasure roll over you as the tantalizing sensations become too much. You come loudly, arching pathetically off the bed as you desperately reach for Art, to hold him.

You're wriggling in Tashi and Patrick's arms as Art pulls out and releases across your expanding and retracting stomach as you pant out the remnants of your orgasm.

"Shit," He moans, and his voice sends waves of aftershock across your body while his steady hands draw you against his naked chest for a toe-curling kiss.

You'd never been happier to have invited Patrick Zweig to your engagement party.

reblog to support your writers!

2K notes · View notes

luvvixu · 5 months

Text

how to tame your boyfriend

content: bf!gojo, mentioned of sex and sexual stuffs, 16+, fluff, drabble, does not contain any smut, i think gojo's like this can't blame me

wanna know how to tame your annoying (and horny) boyfriend when your flight is delayed?

that's very easy. just buy him some lego and he would go on instant mute.

"i can't believe you really bought satoru—a full 27 years old ass man—a set of legos?" your friend from the other line, shoko, wheeze and at the same time confused for your action to tame your boyfriend.

sighing hardly while massaging your temple, you answered. "i had to, sho. he won't stop bothering me to have a quickie since our flight was delayed and he was bored."

your flight overseas was delayed for three hours because of some maintenance needed to be checked in the aircraft. now, satoru thought it is a good idea to spend those three hours having a passionate fornication.

of course you immediately dislike the idea even though you are tempted too. you value your morals, ethics, and dignity. unlike your boyfriend, he has no shame and would even proudly tell some random people that you are his by some marks solely created.

"could've played with his phone but seriously, why lego?" shoko was still laughing, now that you opened your camera and showed her your boyfriend who's literally sitting on the airport floor with bricks of lego on his hands.

satoru looked so focused and unbothered, which is an extremely good thing—like he couldn't stop whispers in your ears, whining about how needy he is right now and how badly he wanted you. but now he's occupied, it is the greatest relief for you.

"first, his phone is dead and was tempt to buy a new fucking phone just because he said charging using a power bank takes a lot of time. had to smack the shit outta him and force him to get out of the apple store."

yep, the idiot forgot to charge his phone before you left for the airport. now his phone is dead, the desire to buy a new one instead of waiting for his phone to be charged in a powerbank is crazy. although, money is not a problem for the head of the gojo clan—he got figures that cost more, more, more than your annual salary.

"second, lego made him focused and entertained on building it, not for having scandalous sex with me. i feel like he's being my child than being my boyfriend at this moment." you joked, lowering your voice so your big baby wouldn't hear you.

"you said it yourself that satoru is a full package." shoko rolled her eyes, but she's not wrong tho. satoru is everything, he could easily afford things and could even make some things impossible to possible.

"touché."

shoko let out a laugh. "anyway, gotta go now. got a client in an hour so bye my boo, mwa!" sending also a virtual flying kiss to your platonic friend, you both bid a farewell to with sweet smile on your faces.

as you ended the call, you turned your attention to your boyfriend who's now almost done on his lego that he's been occupying himself for like an hour now.

you made to take some photo of him and post it on your close friends in instagram because this scene of your boyfriend is literally a wholesome and definitely iconic. satoru glanced at you when he heard you giggle at some adorable shots of your boyfriend.

"what are you laughing at?" your boyfriend glanced up to you, confused and warily.

you shook your head, holding your laughter to not raise any suspicion. "nothing babe, just focus on fishing your lego instead of other things."

satoru showed you the figure "oh but i'm finished and we still have like an hour before our flight…" he paused. your mouth hangs wide, questioning about how the hell he builds almost five hundred tiny pieces in just an hour?! truly your boyfriend was really something but this is wild.

"how did you—"

"can we have a quickie now?" satoru smiles sheepishly.

your face turns more sour at his shameless request. although you understand that satoru is a man in need, but his neediness sometimes is really out of place and it took a lot of effort just to stop him from doing so.

"no, satoru. instead, we're going to have a quickie stop at the lego shop to buy you some more entertainment."

your boyfriend pouted at your answer like a hurdled puppy. "but i'm enjoying it more when i'm inside you."

that completely took you off guard.

"... tempting but no."

©luvvixu2023

1K notes · View notes

whorekneecentral · 7 months

Text

Sticky Fingers

Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: dad!seb, seb referring to himself as daddy, cheesy flirting, oral (m!receiving), the use of daddy in a sexual context, penetrative sex (p in v), breeding kink, hint to pregnancy kink if you squint, creampie, a touch of cum play, finger sucking, mommy kink but in a joking way.

Word Count: 2,112

Author's Note: would it really be me if I didn't start it off with my favourite dilf on the planet?? happy holidays to everyone who celebrates in whatever way you do and to those of you who don't, I hope you have a wonderful winter season!!

merry smutmas series

Your husband spends his first Christmas at home since his retirement and he went a little.. a lot over board.

It had been a long year; Sebastian had been driving you mad as much as it was nice to have him home. A full year of retirement and Seb was making sure this holiday season was the best one yet.

Last year, after he retired, you had practically already gotten everything together for the holidays. Sebastian helped decorate and do activities with your daughter but this year, he was hands on from day one. He insisted you guys get a real tree as well as decorate the whole house from top to bottom. You couldn't count how many times he had you running to the store to pick up something for him and his newest holiday project.

Your daughter was upstairs in her bed, fast asleep with her messy blonde curls all scattered over the pillow when you checked on her. Sebastian had put her to bed while you had gone to take a shower.

Usually, you'd find him in bed by now or in the living room, finally working on the insanely long list of tv shows Charles had recommended to him over the years.

Tonight was different, the house was quiet and you couldn't seem to spot your husband anywhere as you made your way through the house.

A light peeked out from around the corner, the door to the basement slightly ajar and you pulled it open, slowly making your way downstairs.

You can see Sebastian from behind, the man freezes when he hears the creaking of the stairs. "It's just me," you announced, the man visibly relaxed, turning to smile at you.

"What are you doing down here?" You asked, finally making it down the stairs. "So secretive, are you jerking off?" You jokingly asked, Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"Don't need to do that when I have you," he raises his eyebrows and it was your turn to roll your eyes.

"Whatever Seb," you laughed, "seriously, what are you doing down here?"

"Trying to wrap this," Sebastian steps to the side, revealing the massive box that was behind him. On the front was a photo of the doll house your daughter wanted.. the ridiculously expensive dollhouse that is. It's not that you two didn't get your daughter what she wanted but she had to earn it. Just because her father is who he is and the fact that he has money, doesn't mean she should get whatever she wants.

You raise her as a normal kid, not some spoiled brat who gets whatever they want.

You huffed, arms folded over your chest as you looked at your husband. "Sebastian, you didn't."

He glances between you and the dollhouse. "What?"

"Do you know how expensive that is?"

"Yeah duh, I bought it babe." He says as if he was stating the obvious, which he was.

He takes a step towards you, grabbing your arms to unfold them, "listen, I know you don't want me to just buy her whatever she wants but it's Christmas and she did really well on her first term report card, remember ?" Sebastian smiles at you, trying to justify his purchase.

You sigh, nodding. You always gave in, both he and his daughter knew as much.

You reach up, holding his face. "You're the best daddy a girl could ask for."

From the moment the words left your mouth, you could see the gears turning in his head. Sebastian's hands grab your ass, squeezing it when he leans in to give you a kiss. "I know I am," he whispers against your lips and you know he did not mean it in the same way you had said it.

Laughing, you lean back in your husband's arms. "Only you can make that dirty."

The man swings you in the direction of your couch, dropping you down on it before getting on top of you. "I'll show you dirty," he says, kissing you once again.

Your legs wrapped around your husband, holding him against you. Seb's lips are all over you, hands slipping between the two of you, pulling on the hem of his t-shirt until he stops to take it off.

"Don't look at me like that," he teases, pushing your shirt up to kiss down your stomach. "Like what?" You breathe, head tipped back into the cushions.

"Like you want to fuck me."

"I'd give you another baby right now, Sebastian."

The man freezes, looking up at you. There's a wicked smile on his face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you nod, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at him. Sebastian moves to between your legs, settling there for a minute as he presses kisses along your bare skin, following the trail from your hip, down your thighs to between them.

Your hand tangles in his blonde curls, giving it a tug and pulling him off of you before he can get to what he really wants. The man's brows furrow, looking at you. "Sweetheart," he huffs, fingers dragging along the bare skin of your thighs.

You give him a shove back with your foot, sitting up. Sebastian watches as you move him to sit and you move from the couch to the floor. Seb reaches for the pillow, dropping in front of you so you'd have some sort of cushioning; he knows even though this was your idea, you'd blame him for sore knees tomorrow.

"You're sure?" He asks, watching as your manicured nails tugs on the strings on his sweats. "Absolutely," you say, your eyes fixed on him as your hands rub up his thighs.

Seb watches as you lick your hand, his head tips back and a soft moan slips out when you wrap your hand around him, moving it up and down slowly.

His eyes don't move from you, watching your every move. His lips parted slightly, as if he was going to say something but he can't bring himself to. You lean forward, a hand wrapped around the base of his cock, the other resting on his thigh. Sebastian groans, teeth sinking into his bottom lip when you wrap your lips around him.

"God-" he breathed, his arm hung over the armrest and his head tipped back into the couch.

His eyes flutter shut when you hollow your cheeks, bobbing your head up and down. You glance up at your husband; eyes shut, his hand reaching down to tangle in your hair - pulling it into a makeshift ponytail.

You move yourself up a bit, lips still around the tip and your hand quickly replaces where your mouth was. Sebastian finally opens his eyes, looking down at you again just as your tongue swirls around the tip.

His hips involuntarily buck upwards, forcing you down on him a little bit more. "Oh fuc- baby, do that- yeah." He's out of breath when he whispers the words.

That was a reaction only you could get out of him.

It was killing him but he forces himself to pull you up off of him, your hand wraps around his cock, moving it slowly. "What?" You asked, your tongue running across your bottom lip - the sight alone makes his cock twitch in your hand; you smile at the reaction.

"I was gonna cum."

"So? I'm not complaining." You tell him, leaning forward to rest your cheek on his thigh. Sebastian reaches down, his knuckles brushing over your cheek - red and flushed.

You looked so beautiful like this.

Sebastian smiles, "I know but.. what if I wanted to try for one more?"

"One more?" You asked, brows furrowed as you looked up at the man. It takes you a moment, your husband's glance was suggestive, as if you were meant to remember something - "Oh!" You giggled, sitting up straight now. "I mean.. yeah."

"So.." he grabs your arm, carefully pulling you up. "C'mere."

Climbing onto your husband's lap, you straddle him and your hand rests on his shoulder to balance yourself. Seb reaches between the two of you, his wrist brushing against your bare cunt when he goes to line himself up with you.

The slightest touch causes you to lean into him; watching him react to you sucking him off was enough to get you worked up.

"All for me?" He looks at you, kissing along your throat.

You hum, teasing him. "Not like I can say it's for your teammate anymore."

Sebastian smiles, his free hand on your hip as you sink down onto him. Your lips parted, his name slipped from between them. As much as he loved to hear you, he didn't want to wake up the sleeping child upstairs - he kissed you, muffling the sweet sounds coming from you.

You liked to be in control up to a certain point, Seb's hands rested on your hips as you bounced on his lap, setting the pace.

After a moment, Seb's hands begin to wander; this man could never settle, not even during sex. His hands move from your hips to the curve of your spine to the back of your neck, holding a firm grip there. You couldn't exactly move, not that you wanted too, but Sebastian forces you down, gently as always, to kiss you. You bite his bottom lip, giving it a gentle pull when he feels you clench around his cock.

"You're - fuck." he moans, making you giggle.

Your hand rests on his jaw, fingers tapping his stubble covered cheek. "I'm what, daddy?"

"You're evil," he mumbles, his hand on your lower back before he flips the two of you. You end up under him, legs wrapped around his hips.

A hand moves to behind his shoulder, your perfectly red nails dig into his pale skin, the marks you left matched the colour of your nails; very festive, you thought to yourself.

Seb's face is buried into the crook of your neck, kissing down to that one spot he knows drives you crazy. "Seb-" you cut yourself off with a moan when you feel his fingers on your clit.

"What was that?" He taunts, watching as your eyes close, back arched, his chest pressed to yours. His lips travel down to your chest, kissing over your tits and as far as he could go. Your nails dig into him once more, Seb feels you clench around him.

"Seb- I'm gonna, fuck-" you mumble and he hums in response, kissing along your jaw.

"Go on, I'm right here baby. C'mon, be good for me." He whispers, he grabs your hand, pulling it to rest on your lower stomach. "Can you feel that, hm? You'd look so pretty with a baby in you - fuck, drove me crazy last time."

You mumble something he doesn't quite catch but from the look on your face, you were going along with everything.

"Please Seb," your lips are on his, begging him for any and everything."

"Please what, sweetheart?" His eyes find yours, "what do you want? You want me to cum in you?"

"Let me make you a daddy again, Seb."

The man groans, your legs tightening around him. "Fuck, okay," he breathes, cheat heaving when you clench around him once more, the tighten knot in your lower stomach comes undone. You find yourself calling his name; the sound and sight of you was something Sebastian never wanted to forget. He finds himself following shortly after you, dropping down on top of you.

Seb moves off of you, pulling out in the process. A soft whimper slipping past your lips at the loss of fullness. He tsks, smiling to himself. His finger drags along your pussy, he watches how you react to his touch, pushing his finger into you to fuck what's slipping back into you.

Before you realize, his hands moved from between your legs to your lips. "Open," he tells you and you do, the man putting his finger between your lips, letting you suck it clean.

He smiles, watching in approval before you let his finger go with a pop. "Good girl," he whispers, holding your jaw when he kisses you.

Seb shifts the two of you, letting you cuddle into his side. His hand rubs along your side, your leg stretched out over his lap.

"You okay?"

"Perfect," you smile, your hand on his chest.

"Well, when we do get up-" he starts but you cut him off, already knowing where he's going. "I'll help you wrap it." You tell him, making him laugh.

"You're the best mommy a girl could ask for," he says and you make a face, laughing. "Doesn't work that way babe."

"Ew, no - I didn't mean like that, you freak."

"Oh shut up," you shook your head, reaching up to kiss your husband.

taglist: @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls@wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

#sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel smut #sebastian vettel fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smut #merry smutmas xoxo

2K notes · View notes

theemporium · 7 months

Note

SAW THE OCTOBER PROMPTS AND KNEW I HAD TO SUBMIT ONE IN

could i do 💰 with my fav boyfriend max verstappen who has just slowly creating a list of everything reader has looked at a little too long or talked about for a couple of minutes. It ranges from tiffany jewelry to chanel dresses to la perla lingerie to gucci perfume to louboutin red bottoms, he knows everything that the reader wants and just one day surprises reader with everything

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

“What…the…fuck.”

Max stood in the middle of your living room—your once empty living room that was now flooded with boxes and bags everywhere you looked—with his hands on his hips and a proud look on his face. And he looked completely unashamed with the scene around him.

“Surprise!” He said it so simply like he had just placed a home cooked meal in front of you, or maybe ran a few errands for you that he knew were a hassle. He was acting like the designer brand labels littering the living room of your apartment were normal, like an everyday occurrence. Though, maybe for Max Verstappen, they were.

“You…what….huh?” You looked at him, confused and baffled and desperate for answers. “What is all this?”

“It’s for you,” he said as he picked up a random bag nearby and handed it towards you, the Chanel logo making you feel a little nauseous. “Though I think people usually call them gifts.”

“This is too much,” you breathed out, your head spinning at the idea of just how much he could have possibly spent on you. At the mere idea of how much money was technically sitting in your far-too-small living room. “This is way too much, Max. I can’t.”

His brows furrowed together. “Why not?”

Your eyes widened. “Is that really a question you’re asking?”

“But it’s all stuff you want,” he pointed out to you.

“You can’t possibly—” Except the boy cut you off as he reached into the Chanel bag he was still holding, taking out a shoe box. And before you could even say anything, he was opening it to show you a pair of black platform heels you remembered vaguely showing him a few weeks back. “Max.”

“You said you wanted them.”

“I said I liked the look of them.”

“Same thing.”

It seemed like every possible object or item you had spent longer than three seconds staring at were currently sitting in your living room at that moment, and Max didn’t see an issue with it. And you knew you shouldn’t be mad at him. Even before everything changed between you and Max, you had made the deal to be the person he splurged on. You agreed to it. You accepted the terms.

But you thought things would change once your relationship changed, when it went from financially beneficial to an actual romance. You thought he knew he didn’t need to do any of this anymore.

“Max,” you started as you tried to step over a pile of boxes, your foot getting caught in the handle of a bag. But before you could stumble, he was reaching out to grab your arms. “Babe, you don’t have to do this.”

“You are making it seem like someone is making me do it against my will,” Max mused, a hint of amusement on his face as his arms wound around your waist.

“I’m your girlfriend, you don’t have to spend money on me like this,” you said to him, your hands interlocking behind his head.

“It’s exactly why I should,” Max scoffed. “You’re my girl. Mine to take care of and spoil and keep happy.”

“Max—”

“Stop saying my name like that, you sound like a school teacher scolding me,” he groaned as he rested his head against your shoulder. Though, something in his chest tightened when he heard you laugh.

“It’s just a lot,” you admitted in a whisper.

“It’s everything you deserve and everything I want to give you,” Max retorted before he slowly lifted his head, his nose brushing against yours. “I’ll calm down but don’t make me give any of it back.”

You sighed, smiling. “Fine.”

“Good, because I don’t know where the receipts are and I’m pretty sure half of it wouldn’t even fit in my car.”

His grin widened as your laugh bounced off the walls of your far-too-small living room.

#cece's slumblurb party #max verstappen #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

1K notes · View notes

greensagephase · 1 month

Text

A Romantic Concert Night

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x Female!Reader Summary: A romantic concert night with Miguel, your boyfriend. Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: a lot of Spanish spoken (translations provided); reader understands and speaks Spanish; pre-established relationship; artist/group is Latino; romantic and soft Miguel; intimacy between Miguel and reader; mention of love making but no actual smut; a little of protective Miguel health wise, more like caring; Miguel doesn't care about dropping money for you, mans just want to spoil you; mention of future marriage; hand kissing, hand holding; Miguel just being a romantic boyfriend A/N: Inspired by the song “Quédate Bebé” by Grupo Frontera and me going to one of their concerts last year. If anyone reading this recognizes Grupo Frontera, then you know all their songs are about love and heartbreak, so that's the vibe for the concert (I’m a hopeless romantic and so is Miguel). So just enjoy a cute, sweet, and romantic Miguel! Masterlist

Miguel and you have been fans of this music group for months now. You know all their songs and lyrics. Their music is always part of your car rides, in which you’re usually Miguel’s passenger princess, and more often than not, the two of you end up singing while he drives.

Knowing this, Miguel immediately buys tickets as soon as the group/artist announces a tour. He surprises you with them, looking forward to spending a lovely evening at your side because that’s something Miguel loves, spending time with you, his beautiful girlfriend.

The day finally arrives after weeks of waiting for your tour date. Miguel and you dress up for the occasion. You honestly can’t stop looking at Miguel because he looks fine as hell, and his cologne - it does something to you. You can’t help but smell him a few times before you even leave your shared apartment because he smells so good. Eventually you head out of your apartment and head to the elevators. The plan is to drive to the venue, so you need to go down to the building’s car garage. However, just as the elevator’s doors open, Miguel tells you that he forgot something.

“Wait for me here, okay? I’ll be right back,” Miguel says giving your hand a squeeze before he hurries to retrieve whatever he forgot. You can’t help but wonder what it is since it appeared that both of you had everything already. You shrug it off and wait for him for a few minutes before he returns with a small smile.

“Let’s go, mi vida [my life].”

Miguel drives to the concert, his fingers interlaced with yours at some points during the drive. Other times, he lays his hand on your thigh, his warmth comfortably sinking into your skin. And of course, you play some of the artist’s/group’s music just to prepare yourselves during the drive.

Upon arriving to the venue, Miguel takes care of everything. He handles the ticket situation and holding hands, he asks if he can buy you anything as he glances at the food concessions.

“Do you want something to drink, mi vida [my life]? Maybe we can buy some water bottles, just in case we get thirsty? Or maybe a snack?” he offers, leading you towards the concessions to take a look.

He ends up buying some drinks and snacks for the two of you before he leads you to your seats since the venue is accommodated for seating and the concert is a smaller one with only about two thousand seats.

A few minutes after settling down and getting your things together while you wait for the concert to start, you pull out your phone and lean into him.

“Picture?” you ask softly.

“For the memory,” Miguel replies with a smile, nodding.

He throws an arm around you and pulls you closer for the picture, but he doesn’t even look at the camera the first time. Instead of facing it, Miguel is looking straight at you with that beautiful and endearing smile of his that only you can inspire in him.

You end up taking a few more in which he actually faces the camera after you playfully remind him to look forward but even then, Miguel still finds himself looking at you even after you’re done taking pictures. He just loves you so much he can’t stop himself and of course, you look so beautiful in the outfit you planned out for weeks after he initially surprised you with the concert tickets. You’re simply a sight Miguel can never tire of.

When he does look away, however, something catches his attention. There are a few staff members walking around selling lit up objects that are typically sold during concerts like bracelets and the sort, and one of those things are roses.

Without a second thought, Miguel stands up, suddenly towering over you. He beckons one of the sellers even when you tell him not to spend his money on that. He carries on with his plan and buys you one anyway.

Other people sitting nearby simply watch with little smiles as they see the interaction because love.

Miguel sits back down and with the sweetest smile, hands you the rose. “Una rosa que no se marchitará- como mi amor por ti [a rose that won’t wither - like my love for you].”

You don’t even have it in yourself to say anything negative or even scold him about spending his money on this because the look on Miguel’s face is just too endearing and cute. You happily take the rose and discreetly give him a kiss on the cheek, thanking him for the sweet gift.

“Mi dulce novio [my sweet boyfriend],” you whisper.

“Todo para mi reyna [everything for my queen],” he replies, pecking your cheek right back, his hand finding yours because he loves hand holding.

As the concert almost starts, Miguel, being a planner and always looking for your well being, pulls out some ear plugs because he doesn’t want ear damage for either of you.

“Oh, is this what you were forgetting?” you ask Miguel as he gently slides one of the ear plugs into your ear.

He grins, a gentle hue of pink growing on his cheeks. “Yep, this was it… We have to look out for our hearing, especially since we’re so close to the stage,” Miguel says, since he didn’t mind dropping more money for seats close to the stage. He slides the other ear plug in. “There. We should still be able to enjoy the concert perfectly, and maybe earn ourselves a little headache and hearing damage.”

“Always thinking ahead, aren’t you?” you ask as you take the other set of ear plugs and help him put his on.

“What can I say?” he replies, smiling. “Just looking out for us, mi vida [my life].”

Once the concert starts, Miguel and you stand the whole time. There’s not a second either of you sit down because you’re enjoying the concert so much. Like much of the crowd, Miguel and you sing the songs and even dance a bit, at least as much as it’s allowed in the space since the concert sold out.

At points, Miguel wraps his arm around your waist, holding you close and looking at you with that smile that makes you melt.

Looking at him, you can tell Miguel is loving the concert, and he is. He’s enjoying every second of the concert partly because of the music and having the opportunity to see one of his favorite artists/groups perform live but primarily, it’s because of you. Being here with you, his sweet and beautiful girlfriend, is what’s making the night memorable for Miguel.

As the concert continues, Miguel keeps stealing glances at you, his heart racing at the sight of your happy singing and sweet smile.

“¿Donde están las solteras [where are the single ladies]?” one of the group members asks halfway during the concert to get the crowd riled up.

Just to see Miguel’s reaction, you jokingly raise your hand, only for Miguel to grab your wrist and lower your hand gently. He looks down at you with a feigned grumpy look, knowing you’re just messing with him before he leans into you, his mouth close to your ear so you’ll hear him.

“No les des esperanza a los muchachos. No estas soltera. Eres mia y yo soy tuyo [Don’t give the guys hope. You’re not single. You’re mine and I’m yours],” he says, lightheartedly. His voice is sweet and tender because he knows you’re just playing around, but he still loves to say it.

You’re his and he’s yours.

You smile up at him. “Siempre [Always].”

The rest of the concert flies by and before either of you know it, it’s over. After so much singing and a bit of dancing, the two of you are starving, so you go and eat at a nearby place. During dinner, you poke fun at each other for your raspy voices from all the singing, especially when your voices go out in mid-sentence.

With satisfied appetites and new energy, Miguel and you begin the drive home, thinking the night has come to an end.

Except, you get home and upon entering your shared bedroom to unwind for the night, you find rose petals scattered on the floor in a neat path leading straight to the bed where more rose petals forming a big heart decorate your duvet. The path of rose petals is lit up by small, warm lights creating the perfect romantic ambiance. You suddenly remember earlier when Miguel claimed to have forgotten something and told you to wait by the elevator. Now you see what he had been up to.

Just as you’re about to turn around, you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind, pulling you into his chest.

“Sorpresa [Surprise],” he whispers in your ear.

You chuckle and lean back into him, resting your hands over his arms and just melting into his embrace.

“You tricked me,” you tell him, smiling as your gaze lingers on the bed.

“Just a little. I’m glad you didn’t think much of it when I pretended to have forgotten something,” he says with a soft chuckle near your ear that immediately sends a heat to your core. “We don’t have to - you know - do anything if you’re tired,” he says, nipping at your earlobe. “I just wanted to do a little something because well,” he pauses and turns you around so you’re facing him. Miguel leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. The most beautiful set of brown eyes stare into yours. “Te amo [I love you],” Miguel whispers lovingly before he kisses you tenderly, his arms still wrapped around your body, pressing you against his warmth. You kiss for a few seconds, locked in each other’s embrace before you pull back gently, a little breathless.

“Te amo [I love you],” you whisper back to him, reciprocating those two words that make Miguel’s heart swell with happiness and love.

He pulls you closer, somehow, and kisses you again. His hand finds its way to the back of your neck to keep your head close and steady, not wanting to part from you any time soon, even if just to breath.

With each passing second, Miguel’s statement about not having to do anything is thrown out the window. The gentle kiss slowly turns into something else - something desperate and hungry that leads to Miguel laying over you and countless murmured “I love you’s” into each other’s lips as he makes sweet love with you, his body worshiping yours.

A while later after your passionate love making and tender after care from Miguel, you rest your head on his chest. Your bodies are tangled up, fitting into each other’s perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. With an arm wrapped around you, his free hand tenderly traces your arm, feeling the softness of your skin.

“May I ask something from you?” he asks softly.

“Anything.”

Miguel smiles and lifts your face so he can look you in the eyes. “A donde vayas, llévame. Te prometo que no molestaré [Wherever you go, take me. I promise I won’t bother you].”

“Miguel,” you say gently, smiling.

“Por favor [Please],” he says, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “No matter what, ups and downs, I wish to be with you because I don’t know what I’d do without you. Una vida sin ti no tiene sentido. Es como morir sin haber vivido… So I ask, quédate para siempre [A life without you has no sense. It’s like dying without having lived. So I ask, stay forever.]”

Smiling, you kiss his forehead, cheeks, nose, chin, and at last, his lips tenderly.

“I have every intention of staying with you. Forever,” you whisper against his lips.

Miguel’s hand slides from your arm to your back. His fingers trace your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Thank you,” he whispers against your own lips. He caresses your face with his free hand. “I have every intention of making you happy and feel loved. I also intend on… One day, putting a ring on this hand,” he says taking your left hand and kissing the back of it.

“Oh, really?” you ask smiling.

“Claro que si [Of course],” Miguel says with a teasing smile, thinking. “Tengo mil planes, propuestas para amar, tú y yo en la soledad [I have a thousand plans, proposals to love, you and me in solitude].”

You chuckle softly, recognizing the words from one of Miguel’s favorite songs.

“Te escribí un poema para enamorarte [I wrote you a poem to make you fall in love],” you say the next lines.

“Solo quiero amarte [I just want to love you],” the two of you say, smiling.

Miguel nuzzles your face before pressing another kiss to your lips, knowing that he could spend the rest of his life like this and never ask for anything else. As you rest your head on his chest again, Miguel is filled with happiness and gratitude for the beautiful romantic evening you’ve shared together.

“We should go to more concerts,” he murmurs, his hands tracing your back again. “So I can plan more evenings like these.”

“You already do,” you say, looking up at him with an afterglow from the intimacy you’ve both engaged in, a sight that always makes Miguel feel privileged as he’s the only one that gets to see you like this. “You always plan the loveliest dates.”

“But I’d have more opportunities, mi reyna [my queen]. More excuses to spoil you, and you know I love spoiling you,” he whispers, cupping your face. “I want to give you everything.”

“I just want you.”

“You’ll always have me,” he replies, his thumb tracing your chin with a smile. “And I’ll try to give you what you need and deserve. Plus, if we can end the night like this more often - no complaints.”

Chuckling, you playfully roll your eyes. “We can have these nights without everything else.”

“¿Si [yes]?” Miguel says with a soft smirk, knowing the answer.

You nod. “Yes, no question about that. You know that.”

“Hm, I know but still… I like to build the mood.”

You laugh softly and kiss his hand. “Fine. We’ll go to more concerts. You’re already so romantic, but I did notice you were extra romantic tonight. I love that,” you tell him.

“It’s a plan then,” Miguel replies pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight, whispering sweet words for your ears only before he pauses. “Ay, caray [oh, damn],” he says.

“What?”

“I forgot I have a bottle of champagne and chocolate covered strawberries for us in the fridge.”

You laugh softly and look up at him again, amused at the sight of Miguel’s sheepish smile as he gazes down at you.

“It’s your fault,” he says, poking your cheek gently. “You distracted me with all the kisses. I forgot all about the champagne and strawberries.”

“So, now it’s my fault?” you ask.

“Yes, why do you have to be so beautiful and give the best kisses in the world, hm?” he asks, cupping your face again. He kisses you on the lips for a few seconds. “Stay here, I’ll go get everything.”

And with that, you stay in bed tangled up in bed sheets as your sweet boyfriend steps out of the bedroom to retrieve the last little surprise of the night, only wearing black boxers and fresh scratch marks on his back.

I just want to go to a concert with Miguel, hold his hand and kiss him fr! Thank you for reading!!! Also, for anyone interesting in listening to the song, here's a preview!

-Alondra

496 notes · View notes

angels-fantasy · 2 months

Note

Hi! I really liked the Katsukis memories one, so I can suggest you make like Bakugo a few years ago got out of a really toxic relationship and he couldn’t really trust anyone because his last girlfriend or boyfriend used him for his money and fame being the no.2 hero, until he met reader. So now he’s taking them to his old childhood hood to met his parents. Mitsuki also didn’t really trust anyone to be with his baby boy, but when she saw you walk through the door, I feel like she would make a connection and had really good vibes with reader. Thank for reading!🧡💚🖤

Perfect (Request)

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Details/Warnings: established relationship, mention of a toxic ex, meeting the parents

Word Count: 1.1k

thank you for your suggestion and your kind comment! this was pretty fun to write so i hope i did it justice. i liked this :)

When someone you love treats you horribly, it's something you never forget. It scars you, and no matter how hard you try to get over it, that pain and those bad memories are always going to be there.

It takes a lot of time to heal from these kinds of things, but it's possible. For Katsuki, it took three years. His last relationship was great at first. He was happy and in love, and he thought his partner was too until they revealed their true colors.

After a year of dating they made it clear that they were only with him because of his status as a pro hero and his money. This was heart breaking of course. It hurts to find out the person you loved never loved you. Katsuki was angry and hurt, so he ended things immediately and swore to himself that he'd never date anyone again. He avoided any type of romantic relationship for the next three years while he focused on himself, until he met you.

Meeting you was unexpected, like most relationships are. He was very closed off at first and hesitant to get to know you, but you were able to crack open his shell and find him waiting on the inside.

Before you started dating, you didn't know about his past relationship but you knew something must've happened for him to be so guarded. So you made sure to let him take the lead in everything. You didn't want him to feel pressured, so you would let him make all the first moves.

When he eventually asked you to be official you were extremely happy that he trusted you enough to try dating again, since a month prior he told you about his last relationship.

Now, six months later, he wanted you to meet his parents. But they were hesitant too.

"I don't know Katsuki. Are you sure they're not like the last one?" Mitsuki asked.

Katsuki was currently at his parent's house, asking them if he could bring you over this weekend because he wanted them to meet you.

He groaned, "Yes, I'm sure. I knew them for a year before we started dating, and they're really understanding about everything that happened before."

His dad, Masaru, spoke up, "We're just worried about you son. We don't want you to get hurt like last time."

Katsuki looked down, "I know, but just trust me, okay? They're a really great person and I think you'll like them."

His parents looked at each other, then Mitsuki said "Fine. Bring them over this weekend at 5:00 pm. I'll make dinner."

Katsuki smiled.

Fast forward to the weekend, it was now the day you were meeting his parents and to say you were nervous is an understatement. Your boyfriend has mentioned before that his mom was a lot like him, so you were afraid she'd criticize you right away. He did say his dad was much calmer, but you were still afraid.

"I'm scared Katsuki. What if they don't like me?" You asked as you two parked outside of his childhood home.

He put a hand on your head, "Relax babe, I already talked to them. I know they're gonna love ya, alright? And if they don't then they can fuck off-"

"Katsuki!"

"It's true. I know they're my parents but I'm with you, and if they can't respect that then I won't talk to them."

You took a deep breath and nodded, "Okay. Can you hold my hand while we walk in?"

He nodded and did exactly as you asked as you both walked up to the large doors of the house. He knocked loudly twice before opening the door, announcing his arrival.

"Hag, I'm home!" He yelled, "Hey old man." He said to a man with glasses and brown spiky hair that was sitting at the dinner table.

The man was about to speak up but was cut off by a woman yelling, "I told you to stop calling me hag, brat!" Then, a woman that looked just like Katsuki walked out of the kitchen.

"Oh-Hello there! I'm Mistuki." She said and shook your hand.

You smiled and gave her your name, "It's so nice to meet you. You have really beautiful skin."

She laughed loudly, "That's thanks to my quirk, glycerin. Keeps my skin moisturized. Now both of you come and sit down! I made dinner for everyone."

Katsuki continued holding your hand and walked you to the dining table next to the man who you were assuming was his father.

He smiled and held out a hand, "I'm Masaru, Katsuki's father. It's a pleasure to meet you. I hope you'll excuse my wife, she can be a bit, well-I'm sure you know." He said with a small laugh. You noticed he was much more soft spoken compared to his wife and son.

You continued to talk to him and Katsuki at the table until Mitsuki came and placed the dish on the table. You were able to tell right away that she had made katsu curry.

You each served yourselves, though Katsuki kept insisting he serve you.

"Stop it. I want to do it." You said pushing him lightly.

He kissed his teeth, "Just let me do it will ya?"

"No." You then bumped him with your hip and served yourself, quickly serving him as well, making him sigh.

As you two communicated in your own way, his parents smiled at your interaction. Mitsuki was a little hesitant to, but Masaru rubbed her shoulder almost to let her know he was okay.

During dinner you all talked about everyday things, mostly surrounding you and Katsuki's relationship.

"So, how did you guys meet?" Mitsuki asked.

"We actually met at the public library." You said, "It was in the romance section, coincidentally."

"Yeah and you were picking a shitty book." Katsuki spoke up.

"Hey it wasn't my fault! I didn't even know anything about it."

As dinner went on, his parents, especially his mother, realized that you really were different than his last partner. They could see the way you cared for him just by how you spoke to him and interacted with him. Even the little touches you gave him on his shoulder or arm here and there.

At the end of the night when you said your goodbyes, his parents made sure to see you both out.

Mitsuki hugged you tightly and whispered "Thanks for taking care of my boy." Pulling away, she said "Come back anytime, all right? Don't let this brat convince you I'm crazy."

Katsuki rolled his eyes while you giggled.

Once you both drove away, Masaru asked his wife "So? What do we think?"

She nodded, "I think they're perfect."

tag list for bakugou fics: @doumadono

#@angels-fantasy #fanfiction #fanfic #anime #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #bnha bakugou #my hero academia

742 notes · View notes

churipu · 5 months

Note

hii ive been obsessed with your work lately and I hope ur doing well! make sure not to overwork yourself!! Anyways can u make a nanami headcanon where s/o comes home late because she’s working overtime but forgets to tell him?

COMING HOME LATE TO NANAMI ₊˚⊹

featuring. nanami kento x reader

warnings. none

note. haiii nonniee, thank you so much for appreciating my works. it means so much to me <33 i'm sorry this one took so long and i hope you like it, mwah mwah

i feel like in the relationship, nanami tries to talk you to quit your job before — but you felt like it was kind of unfair if he had to use his money to support you, so you always managed to decline that. even if the male was a bit disappointed at your decision, he didn't want to force you, so he lets you be.

you didn't have a cursed energy; a non-sorcerer. unlike him, you had a simple job of making coffees, alias a barista. the income was not too much, but still enough for the both of you (although nanami always ends up paying for your stuff because he insists).

the job wasn't too tiring, however today was a bit different — the store had gotten a rush hour in the afternoon, not that you were complaining about it as you signed up for the job anyways. and a co-worker had asked you to cover their shift because they had an family emergency.

really, you didn't mind covering for them at all. you were getting an extra for that and it counts — just it meant that you were going to be the closing shift for today, and everyone knows closing up meant it would be a lot of work; especially with the washing, cleaning up, mopping the floors, the coffee machines, everything.

you ended up closing the shop late at night, rushing to your shared apartment with nanami. opening the door in exhaustion, calling out a tired, "i'm home."

"y/n?" nanami appears from the corner, rushing towards you and then cupping your face.

in confusion you blinked at him, wondering what the hell was happening and why was he acting like this?

"you never texted or answered my calls, i was worried," he mumbles out, and it finally dawned upon you that during your shift — it was too busy that you hadn't managed to get to your phone at all. and it was on silent too.

"i'm sorry, baby. i had to cover up for my co-worker's shift, it was my mistake for not telling you," you smiled at him, planting a kiss on his lips.

nanami shook his head, "it's alright, please inform me next time," he kissed your forehead before pulling you into a tight hug, "how was work?"

"you won't believe how busy it is today, surprising. but it was fun, and i'm getting extra paycheck for covering my co-worker's shift!" you marveled out happily, and he gazes down at you fondly, kissing the crown of your head.

"i'm glad then," he mumbles out to you, "if i tell you to stop—"

"still a no from me," you kicked your shoes off and walked towards the living room, sparing him a cheeky smile, "i like working, plus, it's not fair that you have to waste your money for my livings too."

nanami heaves out a sigh, "my money is your money."

but he didn't push on, what mattered is that you enjoy working. nanami will undoubtedly still pay for your things, telling you that you should just save your paychecks incase he goes broke (which will never happen).

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff #jjk fluff #nanami kento #nanami #kento nanami #nanami kento x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #i love nanami #bye i miss nanami

727 notes · View notes

erwinsvow · 3 months

Text

part two of this

you’re still wondering how you ended up like this—rafe’s arm around your shoulder, a cup of water in your hand because he’d decided for you that you’d had enough alcohol tonight, standing in a big circle with his friends. you knew bits and pieces about rafe, some comments your now ex-boyfriend would make in passing—always bad things—and the fact that he was a regular at these parties for more than one reason. but standing next to rafe, with him acting like you belong to him, was something you could have never expected.

his friends look at you a little curiously, but they’re still nice. rafe stares down anyone who he catches looking at your low hemline or exposed chest. he’s making his rounds to sell yayo, and you accompany him, still just tipsy enough to have lowered your inhibitions and not catch on to the mean way some of the girls look at you.

“wha’s yayo?” you question, looking up at rafe again, like you’ve been doing all night. he’s undeniably handsome, but it seems even more so when he’s being so nice to you like this.

“nothin’ you need to know about, kid,” is all he says in response, guiding your water cup to your mouth again and tipping it back a little so you drink. a little bit spills down the side of your mouth and he wipes it away with his thumb.

“can i try some?” he laughs, handing over another tiny bag to a boy with a handshake and pocketing the money, and then guides you away, so it’s just the two of you.

“not yet.” you let out a whine—it must be fun if everyone at the bonfire is chasing him around for some.

“why not?”

“‘cause cheap beer is too much for you. now stop askin’ and help me find this stupid boyfriend of yours.”

“ex-boyfriend,” you correct, immediately. rafe looks pleased when you say that, making you smile even wider, if not a little dopey.

“excuse me, that’s right. ex-boyfriend. where's he at?”

you don’t actually care about finding him anymore—you’re having a lot of fun with rafe like this. but you get into your head a little bit, thinking rafe is only doing this to make him jealous, and then he’ll leave to spend time with some other girl. you hold on a little tighter to his arm, looking up with another pout.

“maybe this way,” you say, guiding him in the exact opposite direction of where your ex was last. “maybe those people want the yayo. they seem friendly.” rafe laughs again, which makes you beam. he does sell to the partygoers you pointed out to him, they open the little baggie and start snorting right infront of him—and you. you watch intently, and when they ask rafe if he wants a bump, he refuses.

“not today. gotta stay sharp for my girl.”

you’re starting to think you don’t need any drugs, if something as simple as rafe calling you his girl makes you feel so deliriously happy. you’re buzzing from your own personal high until you hear a voice call your name, and you don’t turn until rafe does, the arm around your shoulder gravitating down to your waist, holding on tightly.

the beer and rafe and everything else in the air still has you pretty hazy—you don’t hear anything other than your ex asking you what the hell you’re doing, and rafe answering for you. it doesn’t take long for him to notice the little baggies of white powder on the table behind you two, the possessive way rafe keeps his hands on you, and the fact that rafe looks as angry as anyone’s ever seen him, before they break out in punches and curse words.

you’re drunk enough to want to help rafe, but one of his friends holds you back, tells you to leave it and that rafe will win anyways. you watch him throw punches at your ex but the second he takes a punch, you can’t watch anymore.

rafe does win, in the end. your ex gets dragged away by his friends, and you’re sure there’s red everywhere. when rafe finds you again, he spits out some blood and wipes his mouth. you stare at him afraid and unsure, thinking that you’re the last person he wants to see now, the one that got him into a fist-fight. you bite your cheek, playing with your hands and staring down at your shoes again, until rafe comes up and guides you to his truck. the parking lot is clearing out, and you sit in his passenger seat fiddling with the hem of your dress while he drives you back home.

you don’t speak until he parks infront of your house.

“i-i’m so sorry, rafe, really. i didn’t want that to happen. i’m really sorry.” everything feels more clear in his car, moonlight piercing through and shining on the two of you. it was stupid to do any of that—stupid to get rafe involved and stupider still to get him hurt.

“why’re you sorry? i threw the first punch.”

“you did?”

“you didn’t see?” he questions, and you want to hide your face in your hands.

“no, i-uh, i couldn’t watch, your friend took me away. uhm, kelce.” he laughs, to your surprise.

“don’t lose any sleep over it, kid. didn’t like the way he was talkin’ about you.”

“really?” you ask, and you hate how hopeful your voice sounds. you like that he cares, you hope he really does care.

“yeah.” you can’t hold it back any longer, leaning towards him and giving him a big kiss on his cheek.

“thank you rafe,” you say quietly, biting your lip, hoping you didn’t misunderstand him.

“yeah, kid, whatever. get inside.” he leans over you to open the passenger side door for you, before returning to his position and staring at you from his seat. just as you start to move, he grabs your wrist, making you turn to look. “y’not gonna like what happens if i ever see you with him again. got it?”

you look at him like a deer caught in headlights, eyes big and wide, lips parted. you nod.

“got it.”

“good night, kid.”

#lollll i love him #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

477 notes · View notes

namfinessed · 1 year

Text

so close - m.yg.

genre: major angst, fluff, second chance romance (13.5k)

summary: words are not enough for people who are so close and so in love, or a fic in which yoongi loses you but will do everything in his power to win you back.

note: writing after so long felt liberating, i hope you feel through my words.

this one is dedicated to my soulmate, @hopefuldreamlove

masterlist

“you know what? i’m done, i’m fucking done with your nonsense, i hope this stupid roof falls on your head!” your screams bounced off the walls loudly as you dragged your bags to the front door, you no longer recognized yourself.

when had it become this bad?

“i hope so too, at least that way i don’t have to hear you scream like a banshee on drugs, just get the fuck out already” yoongi huffs as he matches your vicious tone, but his chest tugs at him, begging him to move and stop you before it was too late, before you actually left and never came back. but his pride was stronger, he wasn’t going to beg you to stay, he was stubborn enough to pretend this didn’t affect him at all.

you don’t respond or even turn back to look at him one last time, you slam the door and trudge your luggage impatiently to the elevator.

yoongi couldn’t move, he watched the front door with pursed lips, he couldn’t believe that after all this time, this was how you two were going down.

he should’ve stopped you; he shakes his head at himself, he shouldn’t have even let the fight get so far, he should’ve stopped the second your voice wavered with unshed tears halfway through the argument but he didn’t, he waited for those tears to turn into simmering anger and yoongi didn’t do anything to make you stay. as always.

that was why you fought in the first place because yoongi had seemingly given up on putting any effort into your relationship.

halfway through the parking lot, you pulled your suitcases behind you with heavy steps, letting out puffs of breath with furrowed eyebrows, and then you paused. your heel stuttering as you narrowed your eyes, your hands loosened around the handles of your bags.

why should you leave?

you both were still owners of that apartment, both of you paid the rent and if you left now, you don’t even have a place to stay and you didn’t want to inconvenience your friends because yoongi was being an asshole, you also didn’t want to go through the trouble of finding a new apartment when you had a perfectly available one right above you (with three bedrooms!).

you smiled wickedly, if yoongi thought he was getting rid of you this easily, he was dead wrong because now, you were determined to make his life hell by living right next to his door and doing everything you could to make him uncomfortable.

yoongi didn’t hate a lot of things, but his personal space was always important to him and you were determined to make that space as worse as it could get and if he had a problem, he could always leave and find another place, he had the money to buy another apartment anyway.

with that happy revenge plan, you walked back to the elevator with a bounce on your step, you couldn’t wait to make yoongi’s life miserable.

yoongi, on the other hand, had been watching the clock since you walked away, it took every fiber of his pride to keep himself on that couch and not run after you but eventually, he knew that he needed you, he couldn’t ignore his sinking chest forever, so he ran to get his car keys, begging and praying silently that you hadn’t gone too far.

he reached for his phone as he made his way to the door, already texting your friends to see if you had gone to them.

imagine his surprise when you slam the door open just as his hand moves towards the door handle, he jumps back with a pounding heart and a rush of emotions fills him.

a mix of relief, remnants of his previous frustration, pure joy, and cockiness fill him as he sees you back in your home, his hands almost grab you into a hug but instead clench into fists and tighten beside his body.

“missed me already?” his lips curl into a smirk and your glare hardens, but you give him the sweetest smile in return, and yoongi’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

you looked furious when you left so, yoongi didn’t understand the smile on your face even if his heart jumped at the smile he hadn’t seen for a while now.

“don’t flatter yourself, min yoongi, i’m not back for you, i’m back for my apartment” you sing to him as you purposefully shove his shoulder on your way in, even running your suitcase on his toes accidentally as you walk past.

he winces and curls to grab his stinging foot, “what the fuck is wrong with you?” yoongi growls, any idea of needing you had left him swiftly as his anger returned with a vengeance.

“oops, sorry, didn’t see your foot there” you tried not to snicker as you said but you still had that shit-eating grin on your face and yoongi huffed, annoyance filling his every crevice.

“okay, what are you doing back here? i clearly remember you hoping that this roof falls on my head, did you come back for it to fall on yours too?” yoongi followed you as you walked to the guest bedroom, his footsteps speeding up to catch your pace but you remained one step ahead.

“you mean, what am i doing in my house? i don’t know yoongi, what do people do in their houses?” your voice was sickeningly sweet and yoongi ran a hand across his face in exasperation, “this is our house, can you stop being sarcastic for one minute and give me a straight answer?”

“as far as i remember and you are free to correct me, both of our names are on the lease, making both of us rightful owners, why would i go anywhere else when i have a home right here?” you level your glare with him as he stares back with an unreadable expression, “are you doing this just to be petty?” yoongi thought you had come back for him but now knowing that you didn’t, filled his chest with a bitter, ugly feeling.

“i have no idea what you are talking about, i am just choosing to live in my house” you shrug your shoulders as you put your clothes into the guest room’s closet, yoongi looks away with furrowed eyebrows, “stop calling it your house, it is our house” your hand paused at the longing in his voice but remembering all the nights you went to bed crying because of him, pushed you to just keep arranging your things.

“it is mine and yours, not ours,” you concluded and yoongi tried to shake off how heavy your words made him feel, “besides, i won’t even be bothering you anymore, think of us as roommates and nothing more until i find a new place.”

“roommates?”

“roommates.”

“you are going to find a new place?” yoongi asks, shifting on his feet, it was strange to see you occupying a different part of the house.

“of course, why would i stay here with you for longer than required?” you planned to just ruin his life for a little while and then leave to a place where you could finally breathe.

you just staying here would ruin it enough, you thought.

“you shouldn’t even be staying here right now” he bit back, masking the ache in his heart with insults he normally wouldn’t even think of uttering but that confirmed it for you that your decision to stay bothered him and that satiated your petty heart.

“if you have a problem with me staying, you can leave and find a new place” you gave him a large, sarcastic grin and yoongi’s eyes further narrowed on you. “i don’t give a fuck about you staying or leaving, just stay out of my way” yoongi mumbled and slammed the guest door shut.

you rolled your eyes as you continued shoving your belongings in place, you couldn’t wait for this lease to be over, just as much as he did.

the lease was supposed to be renewed after three months and you were hoping to find a place by then because as much as you taunted yoongi, you were planning to move out the next chance you get because you couldn’t stay around him and hate yourself for liking him still.

you spent the first two weeks, mostly staying out of home, you couldn’t stand seeing him working all day, even at home. that was why you two had fought and ultimately broken up over, and as much as you hated to admit it, you were hurt that he didn’t even try to change his ways.

your eyes glared at the eggs sizzling in the pan sitting in front of you as your hands tightened impossibly around the spatula you held.

were you supposed to cook eggs with a spatula?

were the eggs supposed to look that dark in color?

was whatever you’re holding, even a spatula?

your head tilted in confusion as you tried to rake your brain for things you learned from cooking shows and let out a sigh of frustration as the eggs you flipped had smoke coming out of them.

you never had to worry about cooking, as busy as yoongi got, he always made sure you at least had leftovers to heat up before he left for work but you would rather plunge yourself on a bed of legos than ask him to make your food.

besides, you could do this yourself, you have done much more difficult things than this in life, a couple of eggs and bread weren’t going to be that hard.

“are you seriously using a scooper?” you heard a low, groggy voice from across the room and you sucked in a breath, face heating up in embarrassment.

so, you weren’t using a spatula after all.

you stiffly nodded and yoongi snickered, “if you need a ride to the hospital after eating whatever you made, i will be happy to take you.”

you turned around with an annoyed huff, “as if you have time for anything besides being holed up in your studio, i will die before you even come and get me.” yoongi’s jaw tightened as you pointed your spatula (scooper) at him, and then, he released a long breath as another grin graced his face, “so, you agree? you agree that you will end up in the hospital after eating this?”

“even if i do, i don’t see how it’s any of your goddamn business, min yoongi, just make your fucking breakfast and don’t be such an insufferable roommate” maybe your words were harsher than needed, but you couldn’t stand being around him and not hurt him, as he had hurt you over the course of the past few weeks.

yoongi didn’t retaliate which only made you feel worse, but you held your chin high in defiance of your own guilt as he did exactly as you told, he kept quiet and made his breakfast.

and of course, he made a huge spread of everything from bagels to smoothies to chocolate pancakes, he put them right in front of you as he sat on the opposite side of the long island table as you stared down at your burnt eggs and bread with a clenched jaw.

for yoongi, work could wait right now but annoying you couldn’t.

“i hope you enjoy your breakfast, y/n, if you can call it that” yoongi gave you his brightest smile yet, the stretch on his face covering the otherwise sarcastic tone “because i know i will enjoy mine” he finished by shoving a forkful of the cream cheese and chicken bagel that he knows is your favorite. he knows how much you loved it when he made it for you after a night full of love and attention.

you glare at him with annoyance crawling up your arms and legs as he lets out a moan of approval at the bite, obviously putting on a show to piss you off more, your mouth waters involuntarily as he chews slowly with nods and loud hums of satisfaction but what finally drives you mad, is when he lifts his head from eating and gives you a cheeky wink.

your hands gripping the table's edge turn white as you forcedly push your body away from the table, abandoning your sad excuse of breakfast and stomping out of the room.

you hate that you can hear yoongi’s sinister laughter even after you slam your door shut.

this is what continues for you both, you accidentally unplug his computers, he accidentally drops juice on you right before you go to work, you accidentally break his speakers, and he accidentally puts your night plushie in the washing machine and reduces it to nothing but a shapeless fluff. the cycle continues, both of you determined to not let the other breathe peacefully, every night you slept while making a plan to destroy his day, and every morning you woke up to execute it.

it was childish, immature but it gave you the satisfaction you craved. seeing his usually passive face become irritated or waking up to his screams of frustration and curses filled you to the brim with joy.

you did start to question why you enjoyed it so much though, sure you wanted to give him hell but the whole process of planning it wasn’t what made you satisfied, it was purely his reaction to it.

“you just want his attention again” your dear friend, jennie, mutters as she glares at you while sipping her bubble tea. you immediately scoff at her; she had no idea what she was talking about.

“no, i want him to suffer” you correct her and she shakes her head at you, putting her drink down and leaning forward with furrowed eyebrows. “i worry about you, you know.”

“why? i’m perfectly fine” you shrug because you don’t see anything that she needs to worry about, you are moving on, you are making yoongi suffer like you wanted to, your work performance is still intact, and everything was smooth sailing. “no, you are not. i thought it was weird that you wanted to stay in the same house as your ex, but i didn’t say anything because you were in a sensitive place then. now, you have to admit that you are delaying staying away from him.”

“i’m staying in a house that i own and that i am paying rent for, it has nothing to do with min yoongi.” you jab a finger on the table as irritation fills you, but you also feel embarrassed? humiliation crawls on your insides as you try to maintain a passive face. jennie’s face softens and she reaches out for your hand, “i know how much he hurt you, don’t punish yourself by thinking you have to prove to anyone that you want to hurt him as he did you. your pain doesn’t need justification.”

you couldn’t sleep that night, all you could think of was jennie’s face as she uttered those words, her gentle hands keeping you anchored to the real world, the world where min yoongi shredded you to pieces without caring or knowing about it. before you know it, you feel tears escape down the side of your eyes and your hand shakily reaches out to muffle your sobs.

why couldn’t you just stop caring?

why couldn’t you up and leave?

what kept you tethered to a relationship that was void before you ever called it off?

and why couldn’t you just fucking stop crying?

you wanted to let your hand go, so yoongi can listen to your wails, to what he’s done to you, the damage he’s caused, the broken pieces that you struggle to pick up, maybe in some sick way, you want him to come and wipe your tears away, maybe you just want him to show up this once, to make up for all the months he didn’t. but you don’t let it go, you hold it tighter against your face because as much as you want him to know, you can’t. you can’t have him find out that your tears were because and for him.

you didn’t have to justify your pain but you did have to prove that you were moving on, so against jennie’s and all your friend’s better judgment, you decided a date night would just be enough to prove that you didn’t care about yoongi or whatever you had with him anymore.

you hummed lightly as you got your favorite dress out, it had an open back and whenever you wore it, yoongi couldn’t stop touchin-

this isn’t about him.

you huff in annoyance at your own thoughts as you lay your dress down on the bed, you are not thinking about him, not today and not ever, today is only about your date, you are going to have a good time, get lightly tipsy, and maybe even have a full-blown make out session if you get drunk enough for it and you will not think of yoongi at all.

you took a deep breath in as you started doing your makeup.

how long has it been since you got ready for a date? at least, a date that didn’t get canceled as soon as you were ready. your makeup brush slows in your hand as your heart starts feeling heavy again. you didn’t bother getting ready for anything if it was not with yoongi even when he canceled, even when he pleaded with you that he would be there and left you hanging.

you gave such little regard for yourself and you feel angry that you didn’t put yourself first, that you didn’t fight him right then and there, you feel irritated that you quenched your needs for as long as he made you wait.

you start getting ready with more aggression after that, you were definitely going to put yourself first now, yoongi gets none of you. you don’t need him for anything anymore.

except for maybe one thing.

you stand in front of the mirror with a scowl, your arms awkwardly bent to try and zip your dress up but your fingers are just out of reach for it, you start to hop awkwardly hoping that somehow hopping around will magically zip your dress up and start to groan in frustration.

“are you auditioning to be a kangaroo?”

you pause with gritted teeth at his amused voice coming from the doorway that you didn’t realize was wide open all this time.

this can’t be happening right now.

“can you fuck off?”

“and you will go out with your zip wide open, got it, i will be taking my leave.” He snickers and starts to head out, only to pause when a whine comes up your throat, you bite your lip to swallow your pride because you don’t want to ask him, but you have no choice.

“yoongi, can y-“

“can i?” he turns around in a flash, leaning against the doorway with a smirk on his face, that you want to slap off.

“can you zip my dress up?” you mumble out in a rush and shift your feet to face him with half your body. yoongi whistles, looking away, acting like he didn’t hear you at all, and your eyes drop into a glare, you can already feel your irritation crawling up your skin.

“you heard me, stop acting like a kid.” you scowl at him as you stomp your foot.

“i did but a ‘please’ would be nice, you know, zipping a dress is tough work and i can’t just hand it out for free.” he was enjoying this way too much but his heart was dipping continuously as he kept looking at you from the corner of his eye.

when was the last time he saw you, all dressed up?

why can’t he remember the last time he took you out?

why can’t he remember the last time he fell asleep and woke up with you?

he clears his throat loudly as he makes his way across the room, your glare stays on yoongi as he approaches you but you don’t miss how his eyes stay downward as he walks with slow steps. you tilt your head in confusion as you push your hair to the side, to let him zip you up.

but he never does.

he stands behind you, looking in the mirror as you hold your hair up, he looks at you through the mirror, and your eyes meet his.

yoongi doesn’t look away.

you don’t look away.

your zip is long but forgotten.

and suddenly, you feel like the room is running out of air for you to breathe in.

you hadn’t been this close to yoongi in so long.

you can’t tell if he’s thinking the same thing, you can’t tell if he’s finding it hard to find air right now too, you can’t tell if his heart is beating as loudly as yours.

but sorrow fills you because, in all these months, yoongi has come this close to you, only to zip the dress that you’re wearing on a date with someone else.

“yoongi.” you whisper, so quietly, so delicately, as if you can’t bear to utter his name but you have to.

“right, zip.” he shakes his head at himself, quickly looking downwards and his hand’s ghost on the skin exposed to him, yoongi is suddenly unsure if he can zip you up or not, he’s unsure if his hands will let him only zip you up, he’s unsure of where that would lead to.

“where are you headed to?” yoongi tries to sound casual as clears his throat and his fingers finally catch the small zip at the dip of your dress, he takes his sweet time dragging it up, his eyes savoring every inch of skin he hasn’t touched.

you hesitate, you don’t want to tell him. actually, maybe you do, maybe you wanted him to know before but after the shift in the very air around you, it feels wrong. “a date.” your answer leaves you in a choke, just as he finishes pulling the zip all the way to the top.

he removes his hands from you like he’s been stung, and he steps back, yoongi doesn’t even breathe as he stands unmoving.

air rushes in your lungs once you notice the conflict in yoongi’s eyes, once you recognize the conflict forming a knot in your stomach and even air seems like too much for you.

the moment is over and you can feel your defenses climbing up too.

you are ready to fight him, you are ready to argue that you both were done, and that what you do with your time is none of his business and it never will be, and that you can kiss, fuck, do whatever you want with whomever you want.

because you two were done.

that statement didn’t feel real until this second. something about the statement felt like the most incorrect thing in the world to yoongi.

but he won’t say it.

he won’t hurt you anymore.

he can’t hurt you anymore.

“have fun.” his words are low, and curt and they fall into the silence around you both in a loud thud as yoongi quickly walks out of the room.

you are left in your dress, with a date you were going to be late to and a heart so heavy, you feel that you will drop it at your doorstep before heading out.

“isn’t that so exciting?” your date beams at you.

he’s cute, well accomplished from what you’re told and he seems interested in you.

you wish you could say the same.

but all your responses to him have been one-line sentences and tight smiles.

along with your pre-existing obsessive thoughts of yoongi and that goddamn zip, guilt bleeds into your system and so does dread.

guilt, because your date is as good as dates come, and he already mentioned that he would be more than willing to take time out for you and that he will be available whenever you want, that the next date will be whenever you are comfortable.

which should excite you.

which should delight you.

it should make you the happiest person in the world that he’s so openly giving you his time even if you are meeting him for the first time, it should make you the happiest that he seems enamored by you, that he wants to know so much about you. your friend had mentioned that this guy had been asking about you for a while and that when she asked, he had jumped in joy at the idea of going on a date with you, this should make you happy.

but it doesn’t, it sits bitterly in your mouth that it doesn’t make you feel a single thing.

you felt a million more flutters, kicks, and tingles in that one-minute yoongi zipped your dress up than you have for the past hour sitting opposite to your date.

dread also, slowly but surely, starts to consume you from the inside out. it scares you that maybe you will never feel all of that with another person, that you have somehow run out of sensation when it comes to someone else, it scares you that this might be forever, that you will never truly move on, that you can ever only pretend to move on.

maybe if someone else touches you.

maybe if someone else feels you.

maybe you have a chance of forgetting the ghost that yoongi left on your skin, maybe if someone else kisses you, you will be able to forget how his lips felt.

maybe if someone else could be exactly like yoongi but not like yoongi at the same time, you can survive this.

there’s no one like yoongi.

and you can’t do this anymore.

you stand up abruptly, your mind too loud to let you sit and listen to one more word that didn’t come from yoongi. your date sits up alarmed, quickly reaching for your hand to ask you what was wrong, to check up on you.

he is touching you.

his hands grip your fingers tightly.

he won’t let go until you do.

there is security in his touch.

but.

nothing.

you feel nothing.

your breathing stills at the realization.

your body doesn’t even bother with his hands on yours, it doesn’t even register that a person is holding your hand, asking if you’re okay. your body hates you.

before you know it, you are rushing out a half-assed apology and running out of the restaurant leaving your date confused and hurt.

you wish you could turn back and tell him you felt the same.

you were confused and hurt too, just for someone else.

a defeated weight held your head down as you walk back to your home.

the home that you share with your ex.

if you were in a better mood, you would maybe laugh at the situation you’ve put yourself in, maybe laugh at how ridiculous all of this is but you can’t bring yourself to even walk without feeling like the world was crashing on you.

yoongi heard your footsteps out in the corridor and he jumps back from the door he had pressed his ear against, running to the couch before you reach the doorknob. and just as the door clicks open, he snuggles himself into the blanket on the couch and evens his breath to pretend like he’s just casually fallen asleep on the sofa with a movie playing.

he wasn’t pacing by the front door a million times, trying to listen in to when you would come back.

he wasn’t going to reach for his car keys and come to find you.

and yoongi definitely didn’t feel the jealousy burning in his throat since the second you walked out for a date with someone else.

yoongi hears a thud and opens his eyes to the smallest amount he can see.

and he sees you.

that dress still takes his breath away.

but he can hear your breathing too.

it’s uneven, rough, and too quick, just like how it always is when you feel overwhelmed or frustrated.

yoongi stiffens in his position, both concern and anger filling him and the blanket slips from his shoulder a little.

was it because of your date?

did he do something to you?

were you alright?

his heart thumps uncomfortably as your step near his figure, he doesn’t know if you can tell that he’s pretending or not.

then you sit right by where he’s laid, on the floor, another defeated sigh leaving your lips, and yoongi wonders of the ways he could kill your date for making you like this.

little did he know, it was because of him.

“i can’t do it, yoongi” you whisper, seemingly to no one even if you use his name like you don’t want him to hear and yoongi confirms that you believe his act.

“i can’t seem to move on” a sad and tired chuckle follows that sentence and yoongi’s skin burns underneath the blanket, he’s never heard you this way. “and i know you have, i know you moved on a long time, long before we ever broke up but i can’t. even if you have, i can’t.” tears build in your eyes as you try to blink them away, you felt ridiculous, talking to him when he was asleep.

but you couldn’t help it, there was so much you wanted to say but you never got the chance to.

“i can’t hate you for moving on, but i can hate our situation for making it so hard for me to move on, i can hate myself for ever loving you, i can hate a lot of things” you nod to yourself, yoongi’s fists curl on his chest, if only he could throw the blanket away and take you in his arms. if only it was that easy.

“i can’t hate you, i can never hate you” you finish, your head falls with the weight of every thought you had.

if only you could tell him this when he wasn’t sleeping, if only he made it easier for you to say it to him.

yoongi’s lips purse, out of all the things he thought you would end the sentence with, that wasn’t one of them.

he was prepared for you to insult him in the vilest way possible.

he was prepared for you to blame him; he was prepared to take the blame.

but he wasn’t prepared for what you said or how you said it.

he wasn’t prepared for the sad kind of joy that filled his heart.

his joy was a paradox, too many faces for him to feel it at all.

you got up, turning the television off and pausing to look at him before you disappeared into your room and prepared yourself for yet another day of pretending to hate him.

yoongi could feel the weight of your gaze on him. he foolishly wonders if his hair is looking okay today, if the pajamas he chose today looked good on him, if he was looking presentable.

he can’t help it, you are standing in your prettiest dress and yoongi knows no one can be more beautiful than you, in that dress, in any dress, or in nothing at all. he only wants to be worthy of you.

then you do something that makes yoongi choke back a long breath.

you tuck his blanket back in place and your hands make quick work to cover his ears sufficiently.

it’s a simple action but it makes yoongi feel everything he did for you when he confessed his crush to you all those years ago.

then you step back and pad away quickly to your room and once your door falls shut, yoongi sits up immediately, breathing heavily.

he buries his head in his hands as frustration and something so similar to grief run through him in waves.

was he really stupid enough to let you go?

why did he feel regret now, when everything was concluded?

why did you have to tell him all of that?

his heart ached, his fingers ached, all of it was for you. and he looks at your door longingly.

you were wrong, yoongi thought. yoongi would die before he ever moved on from you.

and he never really let up a chance to prove you wrong.

at your door, his hand pauses in the middle of knocking when he hears your sobs on the other side.

if someone ripped his heart out, it would probably hurt less than this.

how badly he wanted to break down the door and hug you until your tears became his.

how badly he wished to caress your hair until you fell asleep.

how badly he wished you would fall asleep in his arms.

how badly he wished, against his awareness of the selfish nature of his wish, to see you in that dress one last time.

yoongi could open the door, he could do all of this, he could grant himself everything he wishes for but the door wasn’t the only barrier between you two and he became painfully aware of all the invisible barriers you both held up now.

he can’t just leave and come back when he wants, it wasn’t fair on you.

so, yoongi, regretfully and slowly, takes a step back and disappears into his studio where he catches no sleep.

but hey, he could at least finish a song that night.

that night, yoongi knew he was lying to himself if he said that he didn’t love you anymore. but he was also on thin ice with you, yoongi was going to try his best to stay on the surface.

this would be the last song he would make for a while, he had more important things on his checklist.

the smell of-

was that cream cheese?

your groggy, half-asleep mind somehow registers the waft of bagels and cream cheese in the air, which is enough to pull yourself out of bed.

with tangled hair and puffy eyes, you pad into the kitchen with a narrowed gaze.

of course, it’s yoongi.

you glare at his back which moves constantly to put together a cream cheese and chicken bagel which was, as mentioned, your favorite. usually, you would appreciate this view, usually, you would go give him a back-hug as he cooked for you but you knew it wasn’t for you.

“do you have to torture me like this?” you whine out, and yoongi snickers, his apron tightening around his waist as he turns around to look at you, “good morning to you too, you look bright as ever this morning” he gives you his best smile and you return a sarcastic one.

despite his aloof attitude, yoongi was trembling on the inside because he knows there is no single right way to win you back, he would have to earn it, and he would have to work on it every single day.

but if it was going to take forever to win you back, yoongi would try forever.

you buried your pounding head in your hands as you took a seat at the table, wondering how you were going to cook for yourself again without accidentally setting something or yourself on fire.

then, a glass of water with advil comes into view and you look up to see yoongi immediately backing away to work on breakfast again.

“are you trying to drug me?”

“is it working?”

you can’t help the small smile forming at his amused tone, but you don’t say anything which makes yoongi sigh in failing irritation. “come on, it’s just advil. you don’t need me to drug you, you do that with your cooking every day.”

“geez, thanks for reminding me i’m not freaking gordon ramsay in the kitchen” you continue his banter, somehow, you’re in a good mood even after how terribly last night ended. you go mute when he places a plate filled with your favorite bagel, an omelet, bacon, and even mini jam sandwiches in it.

you just stare at the plate before dragging your gaze to yoongi who turns away once again, this time with a dust of pink on his full cheeks that you catch.

“your side of the table is that way” you point to the opposite side, albeit regretfully because it’s been a while since you have had a proper, not-burnt breakfast, but he must have mistakenly placed this beautiful plate of food in front of you.

it has to be a mistake.

there’s no other reason for yoongi to feed you.

but oh, yoongi’s just so full of surprises.

“that one’s for you.” he shrugs casually as if it was normal to make you breakfast, after he’s only eaten it in front of you for a few weeks.

“what?”

“do you have hearing problems?”

“do you have mental problems?”

“yeah, but a dining table is hardly an appropriate place to discuss those, don’t you think?” maybe it was his flat tone as he said, indicative of his sense of humor, maybe you were just in a more fantastic mood than you had anticipated.

but you burst out laughing. you couldn’t help it; your laughter took over your entire system.

you can’t remember the last time you laughed like that.

yoongi had always managed to make you laugh or smile; this magical ability made you fall for him hard and fast, and after a rough day, he was the reason you at least slept peacefully, when you were together.

when you were together.

right, that wasn’t you two anymore.

that realization slows your laughter to a hesitant chuckle, yoongi wishes he didn’t notice that shift.

"don’t try to cook ever again if you want this roof over our head.” he jokes again as he sits down on his side of the table, suddenly the table seems too long to him and he hopes you’ll laugh again.

"are you saying you'll kick me out?" you dramatically gasp at him with an undeniable smile on your face.

it’s all right, yoongi will take a smile too.

"I’m saying you'll burn it down.” he continues with a playful whine that has you giggling again, swinging your legs under the table, a true indicator of your happiness in that minute which yoongi doesn’t miss.

“don’t you have work today?” you ask, finally digging into your food as yoongi does to his.

god, that’s good.

you swear his hands are magic.

“i took the day off” yoongi shrugs again, the second time he’s shrugging over things that aren’t half as casual as he makes them seem.

as long as you know, yoongi only ever took one day off, which was on your first anniversary.

he was always late to the other anniversaries.

you try not to think of that now, especially when both of you were in a civil mood.

“why, are you sick or something?” though concern fills you, you don’t let it show as you stuff your mouth.

“nope, just like that.” you hum in reply with poorly contained surprise.

“i don’t have work today either.” you don’t know why you tell him but you do.

“i know.”

“okay.”

you feel embarrassed at the disappointment that filled you when he didn’t say anything about it, what did you expect he was going to do, ask you for a date? if he wanted to, he would have done it when you were together.

“do you want to watch a movie?”

you almost drop your fork.

yoongi is surely full of surprises because you don’t even process his request for a second.

“what?”

“do you really have hearing problems?”

“no, i just didn’t quite catch what you said. are you asking me to watch a movie with you?” you repeat his words in disbelief, the plate of food that you loved so much, completely forgotten on the table.

“yes, that is what i said.” he confirms and you tilt your head in suspicion that yoongi notices too quickly which causes him to rush out, “as roommates.” it pains him to say it but he can’t come up with anything else to convince you.

“as roommates?” your confusion only grows.

“as roommates.”

“but why?” you can’t help but ask.

“just think of it as me trying not to be an insufferable roommate” he offers his explanation and in theory, in practicality, it makes perfect sense.

but both of you know it’s not that simple.

nevertheless, you don’t pry anymore.

yoongi’s shoulders fall in defeat when you don’t agree or deny, he just watches you continue to eat his food with furrowed eyebrows.

he took it too far, he should’ve stopped with breakfast today and tried to convince you to a movie another day, when you’ve warmed up more to him. you are probably still stuck in whatever happened last night and want your space.

“there’s this new horror one i saw on instagram the other day, i must have the link somewhere, i’ll put it on in a bit.” you look away with heated cheeks as you struggle to swallow your food.

oh.

you just agreed to the movie.

yoongi believes he could fly.

“man, this is not as scary as everyone said it was” you complain through a mouthful of popcorn, and yoongi nods in agreement, stuffing his face with a handful of popcorn too.

“by the way” yoongi sits up after hours of slouching on the couch and you signal for him to continue. “how did your date go yesterday?” he mutters, as casually as he could, reaching for more popcorn to avoid the tension surrounding the question.

last night comes back in flashes, your cute date, running away from the cute date, coming home to yoongi and confessing you would never get over him, covering him with a blanket and crying yourself to sleep.

shit, did he hear you?

“it went well, i came home pretty late though.” the lie tumbles out of you in lack of a better response.

yoongi knows you’re lying but he’s happy to play along with you because last night did a number on him too.

“glad to know it went well. i wouldn’t know when you came, i fell asleep watching some documentary” he munches on his popcorn loudly, he misses the error in his lie.

he wasn’t watching a documentary.

he was watching ‘finding nemo’.

and you know that because you were the one who shut the tv off.

you know that he’s lying. but instead of confronting him about that and that possibly leading to a conversation about what you uttered into the night, thinking he was asleep, wasn’t a risk you were willing to take.

“right, i did see you asleep.”

and i poured my heart out, right next to you.

yoongi in unaware his lie is caught; you prefer that he stays unaware. because if anything you said last night is what prompted him to act the way he did today, you are glad it didn’t all go to waste.

“we should sleep” he slouches back on the couch, too close to you, he’s hyperaware of your arms pressing against his but now that he’s already fallen back, he can’t quite get up as easily anymore.

he doesn’t want to get up.

“we should.” you agree.

neither of you moves a single inch.

laughter explodes into the room at that, both of your heads falling to the side to look at each other with squinted eyes full of happiness.

but when the laughter dies down and you are left to catch your breath, you are suddenly too aware of yoongi’s face being so close to yours, you don’t move away.

yoongi knows you know that you two are far too close.

he doesn’t move away either.

you start to lean in, your body is on autopilot as your hands sneak up to sit on the top of his knee, yoongi shudders from your touch.

how long had he gone without it?

how had he survived for so long?

how did his heart continue to beat without yours in his hands?

he panics internally as his hands come up to grab onto the sides of your face, like he won’t let go, like letting you go once was enough pain for him.

and when your lips touch, every bit of control you had left on your body evaporates into the air around you, you are grabbing his hair, and he is pulling you closer, and not once do you stop to take a breath.

because you know that when this moment is over, both of you won’t speak a word about it.

you can’t remember the last time yoongi kissed you this way, like his hands would disappear if they weren’t holding you, like his entire life purpose was to take your breath away and never give it back, like every part of him had been aching to do this.

and then it does end, painfully, too slowly, you pull away before your chest burns away, he pulls away because he has to.

you were right.

you don’t speak a word about it.

there was no ‘good night’ after that, there was no ‘see you later’, there was nothing left in that moment except the hope stored away in yoongi’s eyes. you pretend you don’t notice it as you, once again, eat the food he makes you in the morning.

yoongi knows he has to say sorry though, he hadn’t planned on that happening, he was just another lucky idiot that night, he was aware enough to know it wasn’t right for two to do that even if you’ve been together for years.

things were different and yoongi always hated change but he had to overcome this change instead of walking away from it, if he wanted to even dream of having you back.

so, he is the one who starts the uncomfortable conversation that you’d been anxiously waiting for.

“about last night-“

“you don’t have to worry about it.” you answer, as quick as lighting, and you even surprise yourself with your speed.

“oh?” yoongi raises an eyebrow at you.

what the fuck was he supposed to understand from that?

“come on yoongi, it’s not like we haven’t done it before” your chuckle following your words, is uncomfortable, tight, and completely unnatural.

“right” yoongi drawls, still not quite getting what you were hinting at.

were you okay with it?

were you not?

would he just have to kiss you again to find out?

“it was just a mistake, it happens, it’s not a big deal, i’m still moving out, you are still very much in love with your career, we don’t have to discuss it anymore” you eat as you speak, trying to bury the longing and bitterness in your voice with cold cereal.

so, that is what you meant.

yoongi doesn’t reply as his head stays down, he gets up soon after, cleaning up after himself and you, he doesn’t speak a single word or spare you a glance and disappears into his studio.

you are all too familiar with this scene.

you only watch as he does all this, you wouldn’t admit to another living soul that your heart grew heavier than it had ever been and that your chest felt tight enough to snap.

yoongi angrily walks around his studio, you could think it was a mistake but yoongi would break his computer before calling it a mistake.

but he realized he still had a long way to go.

yoongi had to be patient, he had no other choice.

but he doesn’t realize every second he goes by without telling you what was weighing on his heart, was another second your already dying hope vanished.

he can’t help but think back on the day he overheard you talking to your friend about your relationship, he subconsciously never really let go of that day, that day, he concluded that it was out of yoongi’s hands to do anything.

“i can’t believe you called, it’s been way too long” he heard your sigh of happiness outside the door, and yoongi paused, he doesn’t exactly know why he stayed to listen but he does.

your relationship, by then, had already been on the rocks, but neither of you acknowledged it.

“i wasn’t going to call, but rumi was telling me you were on a date with a certain someone” your friend sang from the other side of the speaker, clearly trying to tease you but you don’t say anything to that.

yoongi knows why you went silent, making him dig his heels deeper and listen closely to see what you would say.

“yeah, about that” you let out a hesitant chuckle, your voice struggling to keep your cheery tone. “hey, you good? what happened?” your friend’s concern was palpable and yoongi almost scoffed at her, he cared about you too, it wasn’t just her.

but yoongi couldn’t deny the weeks you both had gone without so much as exchanging a proper conversation.

yoongi would never take the blame for it, though.

“we didn’t end up going” yoongi peeks through the door to see your face turned away from the camera and he hated that he noticed the pain etched in your furrowed eyebrows. your friend stayed silent at your simple, but heavy answer, she could tell this wasn’t the first time it happened.

“but today is your anniversary?”

“it is.” you agree with a gulp, still refusing to meet her gaze.

“how long has this been going on?” her voice comes softly, so softly that your chin starts to wobble.

“nothing’s been going on, yoongi and i are fine.” you wanted to believe your words but anyone with two eyes and ears could see nothing was fine with you two.

“is that what you are telling yourself?”

“what else am i supposed to do?” your glare turns sharp and angry, you were fed up with everyone coddling you, you felt claustrophobic enough when you were with yourself.

“you know, if you want to cry, you can. none of us would judge you, you know that very well.” she tries to comfort you and yoongi’s breath turns impatient.

why was she trying so hard to convince you something was wrong, when you were telling her that everything was fine?

why did yoongi feel like she was trying to start a fight?

why did yoongi, a small part of him, feel like a fight was inevitable?

“there’s nothing to cry about, my boyfriend is just busy for an anniversary that might come again, it isn’t as important as what he does.” as you say it, a dread falls over both you and yoongi that there might not be another anniversary.

his heart free falls to his feet.

he had been busy; he wasn’t lying about that but yoongi hadn’t checked on you all this while. he can’t remember how many dates he canceled.

but that wasn’t his fault, that was life, that was his life and you knew about his life before you entered it.

it couldn’t be yoongi’s fault, it had to be yours.

yoongi’s eyebrows scrunch in bitterness at the defeat in your voice, at the absurdity of the situation he never thought you two would have to be in, at the world for keeping you apart.

he looks away just when your sobs break the silence in the room.

“i thought i couldn’t breathe without yoongi, but i am, i am living many days without him, with only glances of him, i am living and breathing.” yoongi’s head leaves the doorway before you finish your sentence. if you wanted to live without him, he would let you go, he didn’t need you to stay out of pity.

“but it all hurts, and i don’t want to do any of that without him” is what he fails to catch in his anger.

yoongi looks back at the day mournfully now, he should’ve taken you out right then and there, he shouldn’t have given up just because it seemed like you did, his head falls in his hands as he rakes his hands through his hair in agitated motions.

he wasn’t sure if he could win you back.

but he wasn’t going to give up, he wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

your days continued, as usual, he made you breakfast and packed you lunch, did your laundry and set them aside, he made sure you ate after you got off work and you both watched a movie or listened to songs together, or anything at all, together at the end of the day.

you were feeling good.

too good.

things were going well enough to make you nervous because suddenly, everything you knew from your breakup to the two weeks of enmity that followed those two weeks, changed drastically.

it felt like everything went back to the way it was and as much as you should be enjoying it, you didn’t, without confirmation of where you both stood, you couldn’t.

and soon, there came a catalyst that changed everything once again.

it was a mistake.

yoongi would never intentionally do this.

he took your pile of clothes as he usually does, placing them in a bucket and preparing to do your laundry along with his.

yoongi’s heart thrums in satisfaction as he places them in the washing machine, he always felt good doing chores for you, he doesn’t know why and with how well things were going, he dances and sings his way to the laundry detergent and whistles happily as he pours it heavily over your clothes, making sure to add extra fabric softener.

he leaves to do some light work in his studio, not knowing the mistake he committed.

yoongi was gunning to ruin your life, you were so sure of it.

nothing else could explain your sopping wet blouses, supposed to be white, at your feet.

you gape in horror as you pick the pile apart frantically to search for any blouses that could be salvaged, after all, these were all you wore to work, and your head falls in defeat once you see all of them in multi-colors instead of their usual stark white.

your hands tighten by your side as you feel hot all over with pure rage, you quickly grab the ex-white blouses and storm into the living room where yoongi scrolls casually on his phone, his pout whistles out tunes which fade away as he catches sight of your heavy steps towards him.

you throw your blouses at his feet and your nose flares, yoongi jumps in his seat.

“what the fuck happened?” he gasps out, not understanding the anger in your eyes.

“yoongi, this isn’t funny.” you manage to say beyond gritted teeth and he scrunches his eyebrows.

“what isn’t funny?” he frowns in confusion.

“stop acting dumb, i will fucking force detergent down your throat” that raises concern in him, he looks down at the pile of clothes by his feet.

none of the whites were whites anymore.

fuck.

“okay, listen i swear this is an accident, i’ll get you new on-“

“i wear these to work! what is wrong with you?” you point down at the pathetic pile of clothes by his feet with hands shaking from anger.

“you know, i wouldn’t do this intentionally, i am aware you wear these to work, let’s go out now and get you new shirts, i’m sure some shops will be open” he gets up from his seat, searching for his keys.

“don’t act dumb yoongi, it doesn’t suit you at all.”

yoongi starts getting frustrated, why don’t you believe him?

“let’s go and get them before the shops close” he tries to remain calm.

“i’m not going anywhere with you.” you stay rooted in your place and yoongi’s patience starts to run thin. “i’m telling you, it was a mistake, i’m not crazy enough to do this intentionally, now let’s not fight and get you shirts you need for tomorrow before we can’t.”

“don’t act like you are some hero, you are the one who ruined them!” you don’t understand why you are so angry or why you can’t seem to move from where you stood.

“and i’m trying to fix it.” he grumbles out, slamming the keys on the counter beside him.

you stare at the keys with heavy breaths and he stares at you, his anger melting as quickly as it came to the surface.

“let’s go.” he takes the keys in his hands again.

maybe it was the confusion that finally manifested with an ugly head.

maybe you hated how comfortable you got around yoongi again.

maybe you are seeing nothing but all his mistakes until that minute.

maybe you aren’t being fair at all.

but you snap.

“you think you are the only one who does important work?” you didn’t mean to get personal or bring up the topic that broke you both up again, but you couldn’t help it. your arms cross against your chest as yoongi spins on his heels to turn back to you.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“you clearly think you are the only one in the entire world who does meaningful work, the rest of us are just slaving away for money and security, but of course, the great min yoongi works for the greater good, for the comfort of many, for millions who adore him, that is why any work that is not his, is not valuable” your voice drips with venom and mocking as you take slow steps towards him, yoongi’s face falls into his usual glare as he watches you speak.

you poke your finger against his chest, your voice quivering with poorly controlled fury, “who the fuck do you think you are? do you think that writing a few songs and getting some records will erase how horrible you make people you are supposed to love, feel? do you think that you can get away with everything because your name is not just a name, but also a brand? i can at least say that my name belongs and serves only me, can you? you are nothing but walking merchandise that anyone can buy.” again, you never meant to say all of that, you know better than to call anyone an object but that was the thing about your anger, your anger had the power of making you say the most vicious words in the world and you had never learned to control it.

“you don’t mean that” yoongi forces himself to say because those words from anyone else, wouldn’t mean jack shit to him but coming from you, they speared his heart over and over again. he waits, he waits with his sinking heart that you would agree with him, he doesn’t believe in god but at that moment, he wished for every power to let you agree with him.

the air grew heavier around you both as you let out a sarcastic laugh.

“i have never meant anything more. you fucked with my work life, you know how much of an asshole my manager is about dress codes but you did the one thing that could ruin weeks of work for me, and you did it all by yourself, so congratulations min yoongi, you have once again proved to be the worst thing to ever happen to me” you clapped slowly as you stepped away from him, your face grim and dark as you turn away.

yoongi’s heart clenches as your words circle his body in a dangerous tornado.

walking merchandise that anyone can buy.

walking merchandise that anyone can b-

your glare slips as the words you uttered sink into your skin, and by the time you turn back around, yoongi’s eyes already gathered enough tears that they run down his face.

“is that what you’ve thought of me till now?” his voice breaks and so does your heart. “yoongi, no-“ you step towards him but he backs away, his defenses climb back right infront of your eyes as his body suddenly looks too far away.

“that’s not fair, you don’t get to tell me now, that you thought i was merchandise, that i keep hurting everyone i love, when all i’ve done these past weeks is try and win you back.” your world stops spinning as yoongi admits to his trials.

you feel like the biggest asshole in the world.

“yoongi, you were right, i didn’t mean-“ you walk over to him with hesitant steps, he doesn’t back away this time but he doesn’t let you finish either.

“i know i’ll never be worthy of you, i know i can only try but i’m trying, god knows i’m fucking trying because even if you can live and breathe without me, i can’t do any of that without you.” your own eyes start to tear up as you reach to wipe the wetness of his cheeks and yoongi takes a shaky breathe in as his face involuntarily cuddles into your palm.

“and you were wrong that night, i will never move on from you, i am simply not capable of moving on from you, because i have never loved anyone more than i’ve loved you, i’ve never wanted someone as much as i have wanted you, every bit of me belongs to you, none of me is mine anymore. and it took you being away for me to realize that.” yoongi’s confession stops time and space. he feels exposed like someone stripped him naked and threw him into traffic but he finally lets you know everything he’s dreamed of telling you.

you press your forehead against him with a wobbling chin and cup his face with shaky hands.

“did you ever think, that by loving me, you were hurting me too?” you needed him to know the extent of his pain, the depth of his scars. yoongi lets you tell him, he needed to know as well.

“every day, i waited.” the ball in your throat gets tighter as you speak and yoongi hates that he’s the reason why.

“every single date you canceled, every night i fell asleep without you, every meal i had without you, all those days i went without seeing you, i need you to know that it killed me slowly, that it made me a shell of the person i am.” yoongi felt shame rushing through him at your words, at the pain he caused you.

he would understand if you didn’t let him in again.

he wouldn’t try again if you didn’t want him to, he has too much respect for you.

“i love you too much to not give you a chance, heck i would probably give you a chance even if you don’t ask for it.” he looks up with blurry eyes.

“but i need to believe that it will be different this time, not just know that it will be.” you step away at that, staring at yoongi who was left standing with a burden that suddenly fell on his shoulders.

how was he supposed to make you believe that?

could you not trust his word alone?

but then again, his words haven’t exactly ended things well for you both.

“how do you want me to show you?” he needed to know, there was nothing he needed to know more.

your breathing stalls at his words.

“please tell me.” his voice breaks as he whispers that, yoongi’s eyes gathering tears again and your heart falls to your feet at the redness coating his eyes.

you wished none of today would have happened.

“yoongi.” you whisper back but you don’t even know what he could do to mend things, you are not sure he can but you can’t deny him a chance.

you don’t have an answer for him.

“i am going apartment hunting soon” you confess finally, and he feels his breath get knocked out of his chest. “oh really?” he asks, sniffing as he looks away.

“my friend knows this real estate agent person who set me up for a few tours, you have to understand why i had to do it.” he knows exactly why you had to do it and he hated knowing that it was all because of him.

but he wasn’t going to give up after ripping his heart out for you.

“i’ll come with you.” yoongi nods and you frown at him, “yoongi, you really don’t have to, i know you are bus-“ he cuts you off, “i am not busy, let me come with you, i want to at least make sure you move into a nice place.” that was a total lie but it wasn’t like yoongi had a lot of options left.

you ponder for a while, and yoongi waits patiently for your answer, he won’t push you if you deny but he will be as stubborn as he can be without frustrating you.

“fine, i’ll let you know by tomorrow.” you finally give in and without another word, go back into your room. you close your door with an exhausted sigh, your face aligning with your reflection across the room.

your eyes were redder than ever and all the energy had been sucked out of your face, making you look sick and you felt sick too, your entire body was aching and you wondered if yoongi felt this way too, if he was as tired, if he felt like the world was pulling his body down, if he maybe wanted to give up because of this feeling.

you stay several minutes this way; you hadn’t thought you would call yoongi merchandise. you, of all people, knew how stressful his job got but you no longer wanted to use that as an excuse for how he treated you.

“how do you want me to show you?”

those words sent a shiver down your spine at that moment, it was the desperation that drenched his voice, the way his hands were shaking beside his body, and his eyes that looked through every inch of you, trying to find ways to convince you.

a slow knock drew you out of your mind, your hand locking around the doorknob to pull it open, and there stood the reason for all your pain and yearning.

yoongi held a tray of hot soup with ginger tea, and a bunch of chocolates, his gaze settling everywhere but at you, as he stood with shifting feet.

“you didn’t eat anything.” you didn’t realize you hadn’t eaten all day but apparently, yoongi had and that tightened your chest around your heart a little more, suffocating you with the love you held for him a little more.

with trembling fingers, you hoped he wouldn’t notice, you take the tray from his hands and place it on a table, and yoongi turns to leave, he didn’t want to bother you too much, he just wanted to make sure you ate.

you pulled on his wrist, not exactly sure of what you will do next but somehow, you needed to touch him, feel that he was real and that you both were here, so lost but still together.

“t-thank you.” you stutter out, every other word you had woven all these months stayed trapped in your mouth. yoongi stared at the hand that held his wrist, he had almost forgotten how out of breath this used to make him feel. how he used to lose nights of sleep imagining you and him, in a house, waking up next to you, falling asleep with you, long before you had both ever committed, yoongi had imagined every day in his life with you in it.

he can’t believe how close he is to losing all of it.

“we should talk, yoongi.” you feel tired but you won’t be catching any sleep in the state the both of you were in, he would spend all night worrying about you, and you would spend all night worrying about him.

yoongi silently followed you into the guest room, it was still strange for him to see you in another part of the house, he eyes the makeup that was scattered on the vanity, the clothes lying around on the sofa, your socks at the edge of the bed and as silly as it sounded, he hated that none of this mess was in the room you two shared.

“i’m still going to see the apartments” you start off awkwardly, taking a seat on the bed and yoongi stood at the corner of the bed, hating that it felt wrong to sit next to you at the moment.

when had it become so bad?

“and i’m still coming with you to see them.” he concludes and gathers all his courage before plopping down next to you. if today didn’t go the way it did, you would laugh at the distance between you two and pull him closer and tell him to stop acting funny, but none of that felt right.

“i think you understand you fucked up” you say, finally looking up at his figure next to you and you shouldn’t have, your resolve already was spread thin, and looking at yoongi didn’t help. “i do.” he agrees and nods shamefully.

“what are you going to do to fix it?”

“anything you want me to.” his answer is quick and firm, he was prepared for anything you would ask for, but you were tired of asking.

“it’s not about what i want, yoongi. i need to believe that you want this as much as i do, and that you’re prepared to fight for it, asking me about what to do is you just handing over the responsibility to me instead of at least trying to figure it out by yourself.” he listens intently, and puts himself in your shoes.

“i took a break from work.” your eyes widen at him and you have to force your jaw shut because you could’ve imagined anything but not those words leaving yoongi’s lips of all people.

“you, what?”

“work is good, very good but it was keeping me from you and it was hard to make that decision but i can always work, i can’t lose you. i can lose millions of dollars, this house, all my clothes, everything but nothing mounts to losing you.”

you have to force yourself to look away when he says that, because you never could have imagined that you were worth all of that and more to him and you are well aware of his deep affection for his work which makes it all the more sentimental that he was taking a break for you.

“i want to be worthy of you again, i want to spend time with you, i want to take care of you, i want to be anywhere around you as long as you want me. i thought i was working for us, for us to be comfortable, but i got selfish in the middle, and i ignored the person who kept me going when it got too hard.” he pauses, his breath shaking as his eyes fall shut. he remembers the exact second his chest almost blew up at the sight of you leaving home, he never wants to experience that again.

“it’s all on me, i should’ve never let you feel like i didn’t love you, loving you is one of the only things i can do right.”

“besides music.” you add in hopes to lighten the mood and you are successful when a full grin grows on yoongi, one that has your cheeks warming up with joy.

“besides music.” he agrees, “but i’ve done it for enough time now, i just want to love you, in the way you deserve to be loved. which is why i’m asking, no i’m begging for you to let me do this right, one last time.”

“what will change? if i say, yes?”

“all my time will be yours; all of my attention has always been yours and it will remain yours, i will make your food like i always have, we will go on dates whenever we want, and we will watch all the movies we’ve wanted to watch but couldn’t, we’ll do everything we used to do but better. it won’t go back to how it was but i don’t want us to stay as the shadow of who we used to be, because we’re meant for more than that.” he says sincerely, with his heartbeat echoing in every word and you couldn’t just pretend like you didn’t hear it.

“as much as i try to will this feeling away, i can never stop hoping for us.” in the next second that he utters those words, you throw yourself in his arms, and your final resolve breaks as his shaky hands snake down the length of your back like he can’t believe he gets to hold you like this again.

the first tear slips without knowledge, secretly and it disappears in his shoulder, his tear disappears in the crook of your neck. the tears that follow, fall shamelessly, without any intention of stopping and none of you say another word, not another ‘i need you to stay because i’ll lose the important piece of me if you go’, not another ‘i love you, like i’ve loved nothing else and losing you scares me like nothing else’, all of those remain unspoken but they hang in the air around you.

“i believe, with everything in me, that we’re meant for more than this.” yoongi braves to look at you, his eyes zeroing in on the curves of your cheeks, he hates that he was the reason for the tears that have fallen on them.

he can’t let it ever happen again.

“do you?”

“this one has beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows, i heard you have a passion for reading, so the sunlight will be perfect.” your agent says enthusiastically as he walks you through the sixth apartment you’ve seen today.

“she also has a passion for sleeping so that won’t work.” yoongi groans as he walks behind you, your face grows red as you slap him on the arm.

“if you’re going to complain about every house, just stay outside, i will look through them.” you grit your teeth at him but your heart softens when his mouth pulls into a whine, “our house is perfect, i literally don’t understand why you’re moving.”

all yoongi has done since he’s stepped out of home is complain about every single house you’ve been to.

“the closet won’t hold half your clothes.”

“a big kitchen is useless for you.”

“this literally looks like a druggie’s hideout.”

“it’s too white.”

no, you are not sure what he meant with the last one either but all you know is that he’s whisked you away from all of them before you could even consider them as options.

“we’ve talked about this, and we agreed that space could do us some good, and no, our house isn’t perfect, my bookshelf has no space left.” you complain lowly so that the agent doesn’t hear you but lo and behold he does. yoongi, on the other hand, can’t remember when he agreed that space would do you good, hell that’s the last thing he wants.

“which is why this house would be perfect for you, the bedroom offers a stunning full wall bookshelf that you can stock up with all of your reads without compromising for space!” he cheerfully chatters and yoongi’s jaw tightens, he hates this agent with all his body and soul even if he’s known him for an hour.

“i can build a bookshelf from scratch” he mumbles grumpily but he can’t help the way his heart flutters when he sees you catch sight of the bookshelf. it’s everything you ever want in a bedroom, a proper vanity, a low-set bed, perfect lighting, and of course, the majestic bookshelf.

your smile grows as you trace your fingers over the plush vanity and the bookshelf and yoongi’s face breaks into a half-smile.

it’s bittersweet, to have you, but in a different house, not the home you’ve built for years but yoongi would never deny anything that grew that smile on your face.

“i really like this one.” you beam at the agent who sighs out in relief but maintains a professional smile, “if you’re all set for it, i’ll get the paperwork ready.” he offers immediately and your eyes pass on yoongi’s figure in the doorway. he smiles at you encouragingly, as if he’s okay with it, but you know he’s not.

just then, yoongi’s phone rings and he excuses himself to step out to take the call, right before he leaves, he hears you say, “i’ll take this one” in a lovely, sing-song tone that he knows you only use when you’re truly happy. his shoulders slump but he knew that this would happen today, he had told his heart all night to not give up on him.

he answers the phone with an irritated tone, he didn’t know how to feel, he could barely listen to the person speaking to him on the phone, he wanted to be happy just for the fact that you agreed to give him a second chance, and that you were excited to spend time with him, but he couldn’t help the sinking in his chest at the thought of waking up and not seeing you.

“no, i am not coming in for work next week, i already told you this, don’t call me again.” yoongi says in a calm but stern manner, the person tries talking again but you were out of the house, and yoongi could care less about anything else.

“did you sign the papers? did you need a pen? i think i have one in my car, let me go grab it.” he rambles and hastens to make his way to the car but you bite back a smile and grip onto his hand.

“yoongi.” you step into his open arms and hug his torso, yoongi is confused but his arms wrap around you, and unconsciously you both are swaying in each other’s embrace.

the house was great but being in yoongi’s arms for these two minutes felt more like home than any house in the world and every corner of the house reminded you of the lack of his presence.

the kitchen, where he won’t cook, where he won’t make fun of your dishes.

the couch, where his headphones don’t lay carelessly.

the bedroom, where his side is neatly arranged while yours stays a mess.

the balcony, where he won’t sip his coffee dramatically at sunset to amuse you.

and the bookshelf, that he won’t help you fill with all the books he gets home, just because they reminded him of you.

you had wanted a home and space but you could find both of those in yoongi.

“you can build a bookshelf, right?” yoongi’s eyebrows scrunch at your question, he almost feels offended that you have to ask that.

“um duh, you know i can.” he whines and you giggle into his chest.

“then, i’m not moving.” yoongi’s arms almost fall away at your words, a strange mix of relief, gratefulness and content fill his every crevice as he tries not to hug you tighter, a punishment for even thinking of keeping you away from him.

and he will take this mix of emotions and remember it forever, the day you gave up on space to stay with him, he will remember the favor you did for his heart for as long as he breathes.

“i will build a million bookshelves if that’s what you want, all you have to do is stay, forever.” forever is a big word, a word yoongi never believed in, always saying that everything in life was on borrowed time but with you, it feels like too short of time.

you knew how he felt about forever so for him to say it to you, rushes into your chest and spreads with a warmth that makes you feel all things giddy and good.

he says nothing, no words, just keeps you in his arms after time had kept you away for too long.

“let’s go home, yoongi.”

4K notes · View notes

erosia-rhodes · 5 months

Text

Speculation on Mizu’s heritage

Blue Eye Samurai on Netflix is one of the best things I’ve seen all year. As I’ve been rewatching it, I couldn’t help but speculate on Mizu’s heritage, and I wanted to share my theory so we can all laugh at how wrong I was in a few years. (I am notoriously bad at guessing plot twists. I was totally wrong about how Wandavision and Loki season 1 would end.)

Spoilers and speculation behind the jump.

Short version: Mizu’s mother was a white woman and her father was the Shogun. The Shogun’s wife, Lady Itoh, put the bounty on Mizu’s life because she was proof that the Shogun broke his own laws.

Who Would Want to Kill a Baby?

We know that there has been a bounty on Mizu’s head since she was a baby. There are only three reasons I can think of for putting a hit out on a child who’s just been born and couldn’t have personally wronged anyone yet:

1) To deny them an inheritance.

2) To eliminate proof of an affair.

3) To eliminate proof of a crime.

The woman that claims to be Mizu’s mother is Japanese, so Mizu assumes her father must be white. But once Fowler reveals that Mizu’s “mother” was actually her maid, it opens up the possibility that Mizu’s mother was white and her father was Japanese.

We know that someone is willing to a pay a lot of money to kill Mizu, but the maid also ran off with enough money to take care of Mizu for several years, so at least one person in this mess is wealthy. We also know that someone still wants Mizu dead when she's an adult because men come to kill her when her husband rats her out, so she’s still a threat to someone else’s interests at that time.

If the Shogun slept with a white woman and fathered a mix-raced child as a result, that would fulfill all three reasons to put a bounty on a baby. Killing her would remove any chance that a bastard might try to blackmail her way into an inheritance, it would remove proof that the Shogun had an affair, and most importantly, it would destroy evidence that he violated his own laws against Western influence by sleeping with a white woman.

But the True Culprit is…

But I don’t think the Shogun put the bounty on Mizu’s life. I think it was the Shogun’s wife, Lady Itoh, for several reasons:

1) Lady Itoh is willing to kill people who learn that her husband broke his own laws.

When the nobles are trying to escape the fire in the finale, Lady Itoh makes her sons lock the door behind them and sentence the other Lords to death because they witnessed the Shogun’s shame, the revelation that he broke his own laws by dealing with Fowler, a white man. She’s demonstrated that she’s willing to kill people to destroy proof of her husband’s violations, so she’d do the same to a mixed-race baby he fathered. It would also explain why Mizu’s maid never claimed the bounty herself; she would have been targeted for death too because she knew about the Shogun’s crime. She probably took whatever money was in the house when the killers came for Mizu, and went on the run as much to save her own life as Mizu's.

2) The woman’s a sadist.

Lady Itoh does everything she can to make Akemi’s life hell once she marries into the family. She saddles her with bitchy attendants and serves her disgusting food at the banquet, and finishes it off with the cooked remains of the bird Akemi tried to free. Then she sends her two more birds the next day, claiming they’re breakfast and lunch. I have no trouble believing this woman would put a hit on a baby!

3) She’s a hardliner against Western influence

After the fire, Lady Itoh orders her sons to destroy 2000 guns which they could have used in the future against their enemies because she’d so fiercely against Western influence. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one who came up with the law banning white people and talked her husband into enacting it. That would explain why the Shogun was willing to violate the law, because he didn’t completely believe in it and only enacted it to get his wife off his back.

It Fits a Common Theme of Revenge Stories

Another reason I think Lady Itoh is the ultimate villain is because it fits the common theme that revenge is futile. Revenge usually destroys the person seeking it just as much as anyone they go after. There is a famous quote from Confucius that says, "Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves." The implication is that the second one is for yourself.

If it turns out that Mizu has been going after the only four men in the country who couldn’t be her father, it would demonstrate how misguided revenge quests are. She’s spent her whole life pouring hatred into the wrong mission.

It would also be a painful twist to know that Mizu was in the same room with Lady Itoh in the finale, but she was focused on killing Fowler instead of realizing that her true enemy was fleeing out the back door with everyone else.

How It Will All Sort Out

I predict that Mizu will eventually learn the truth about her parentage and ultimately target Lady Itoh for death, not just for revenge, but so she can permanently remove the bounty on her head and live her life freely as a woman.

Akemi might end up assisting Mizu since Lady Itoh is also her enemy. Akemi will probably spend season two battling Lady Itoh for control of the household, and thus the country. If Akemi can put her husband in place as the Shogun, she could remove the bounty on Mizu's head.

If Taigan ends up working as a castle guard, this might put him in conflict with Mizu and Akemi if they target Lady Itoh since he would be honor bound to protect her.

It will be interesting to see how it all sorts out!

ETA: I misspelled Lady Itoh's name, sorry! (According to the subtitles it's Itoh, not Ito) I think I fixed every instance.

#blue eye samurai #netflix #blue eye samurai spoilers #mizu #taigen #akemi #mizu blue eye samurai #lady itoh

616 notes · View notes

justmeinadaze · 2 months

Text

Secret Underneath Part 3 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: A lot of this came from the rough week I had and desperately needing Daddy <3

Warnings: Warnings: Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, toys (triple stimulation ;) ), dirty talk, nothing too rough just passionate. ANGST, reader has a bad day and needs help feeling better, mentions of her ex (brief mentions of him hurting her and being verbally abusive during their relationship; comments on her weight but its brief), boys mention their fathers as well as touching on their own ex.

Word Count: 5367

You were having a terrible fucking day.

One of the other teachers you weren’t fond of danced all over your last nerve as if it was her mission. You forgot your lunch because you had rushed out of your apartment late due to not hearing your alarm because you tossed and turned all night. Your AC broke around midnight and by 2am you were covered in sweat. Every time you called your landlord, you were either placed on hold or the line disconnected.

All you wanted to do when you got home was curl up in bed but as soon as you walked through the door you were immediately met with blistering heat.

Usually you could handle all this, all be it with a bit more snark than normal but you didn’t want to. All of your energy was drained and the only thing your mind could muster was the need to throw things against the wall like a toddler.

Daddy.

You debated on calling them. So far the guys had just given you money willingly after every meeting but you had yet to ask them for anything. Oddly with them, you didn’t want them to feel used. Maybe because of what they told you about previous relationships doing just that or maybe it was because you genuinely enjoyed their company.

Finally giving in to your brain, you reached for your phone and dialed the number they give you.

“Hey, honey.”, Steve practically sings as his voice floats through. “How was your day? I was just about to call you.”

“D-D-Daddy…”, you cry, unable to stop the tears as they flow.

“What’s wrong, baby?”, he asked, his tone changing to that authoritative one that made you feel safe. You told him what happened and how your day had progressively got worse. You could hear him moving around on the other line before the sound of a ding from an elevator caught your attention.

“Are y-you at work? Fuck, I’m so sorry—”

“No, hey, don’t be sorry. I was going to leave early anyway. I just got ahold of Eddie and he’s going to meet me at your place. Do you feel comfortable sending us your address?” His heart breaks as he listens to you cry harder, his protective, dominate side now fully in the driver’s seat. “Baby girl, everything’s ok. I promise we’re going to get everything taken care of.”

After texting him your address, you wait by the open window as you fan your face and as soon as you hear the knock you run to let them in. The rockstar doesn’t even hesitate as he takes you in his arms.

“Jesus, sweetheart, you are covered in sweat. Are you okay?” Your gaze kept shifting between him and the mogul as his fingers rapidly moved against the screen on his phone. “Hey, look at me, Y/N. How are you feeling? You’re not dizzy or dehydrated right?”

“No, Daddy. I’m sorry if I bothered you both. I didn’t know who else to call and I’m so exhausted—”

“Baby. Baby, breathe. It’s ok. Don’t ever be afraid to call us or ask for help, alright?”

Someone new knocks on your door, startling you but not them as Steve heads that way.

“Ed, why don’t you get a bath going for her? Nothing too hot though.”

“Yes, sir.”, he salutes making you smile. “Boy talkin’ to me like he’s my Daddy. Come on, pretty girl, let’s let Stevie do his thing.”

***

In the middle of your bath, the AC abruptly clicked on and you sighed in relief. By the time Eddie had you in a long, oversized shirt and brushing your hair, you were completely at ease.

“Ok, honey, I hired some of the best people to come fix your unit so it won’t break again for a long while. I also called your landlord and threatened to sue him into oblivion…so your next couple of months are free.”, Steve grins as a he takes a seat on the edge of the bed in front of you. “At some point, doesn’t have to be now or even this month, I would like to talk with you about getting you a new place. You shouldn’t have to argue before someone fucking comes to fix your necessities. I mean YOU pay THEM—”

“Steven, you’re doing that thing again.”, the metalhead chuckles as he places the brush on your nightstand.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, Y/N. I just hate the idea of you struggling. You deserve all the good things.”

“Speaking of good things, what would you like to eat, babe? Harrington here said you had forgotten your lunch today. We want to make sure you’re fed and full.”

Your head hung as you silently stared into the mattress.

“Y/N, sweetie.”, Steve coos as he lifts your chin. “It’s ok that you called. You weren’t bothering us and we’re happy to help.”

“I know you said people in the past used you for your money. I don’t want you to think that’s all I want. I DO like you.”

Eddie lightly tugs your hair, tilting your head back so he could kiss your lips.

“We like you to.”

“This apartment really isn’t that bad, you know.”

“Baby, I just gave you a bath in that closet you call a bathroom and that’s coming from a man who grew up in a trailer.”

“I didn’t know that.”

As you lean back into his bare chest, a pleasant sigh leaves his lips and you rest your forehead on his cheek.

“I don’t talk about that side of my life. I mean of course people find out but…”

“We grew up in a small town so people gossip.”

“That’s how you two met? Growing up?”

Both men grow silent and you promptly hang your head before crawling out of Eddie’s embrace to head for the kitchen. They follow and as soon as they enter the room, you throw a menu onto the counter.

“I like their pizza and beer special. Don’t worry, Steve, we can get you like a Voss water or something.”, you grin as he tilts his head and you stick out your tongue.

“I feel challenged. Why do you think I can’t keep up with you and rockstar here?”

“I think you just answered your own question.”, Eddie joked as he leaned over the counter to look over the food options with you.

***

“Ok…3, 2, 1, GO!”

As soon as the metalhead gives the go ahead, you and Steve puncture the beer can with a knife and hastily chug back it’s contents. You were the first to finish, throwing your hands in the air as the other man trails behind.

“Jesus, I’m rusty.”

“Yeah, sure pretty boy. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”, you sass as you lean forward to grab another slice of pizza.

“So this is like your go to stress reliever? Sitting on the floor eating cheap pizza and beer while listening to crap music?”

“First off, rude. My music isn’t crap. Secondly, yeah. During the colder months I’ll put up Christmas lights and just lay here watching the snow fall. I love this city. It’s so beautiful.”

“Were you born here?”

“No, I’m from the south. I moved here because my boyfriend got a job and I wanted to be near him. Obviously, that didn’t end well.”, you chuckle as you take a sip of your drink.

“The asshole that hurt you?”, Eddie growls, his own protective nature slowly creeping in when you nod. “Was he always like that?”

“Verbally he could be a dick but he never got physical like that before. After we moved here it just got progressively worse. He’d say things under his breath or give me back handed compliments. Fucker could dish it out but never take it.

‘You know for how much weight you’ve gained, that dress actually looks pretty good on you.’

‘Aw, gee, thanks. You know, not many men can pull of jeans that tight but with a penis as small as yours I guess you don’t have to worry.’”

Both men laughed making you smile before it tapers off and they glance towards each other.

“My father was a fucker to. He got in trouble with the law a lot and ended up in prison back home in Indiana. I grew up with my uncle in that trailer I mentioned.”

“What about your mom?”

Eddie sighed as he propped himself up on his elbow.

“She died when I was really little. She, um, she was a good woman.”

Nodding, you decide not to pry further as you lean back against Steve’s stomach who was also on his side on his elbow.

“MY dad could verbally be a dick like your ex. He made comments like that all the time especially when I was in high school. I was surprised he let me take over his company. My mother isn’t a bad person, she just…I don’t know…her priorities are all out of whack.”

“I’m so sorry you guys experienced that. I actually get along with my parents and I hate being so far away from them.”

“Why didn’t you move back after you two broke up?”, the metalhead asked.

“My job. I love teaching here and I love those kids. They are all so smart and sassy, I love it.”, you giggle.

Your eyes shift towards the window as you pleasantly exhale, closing your eyes as Steve’s fingers absently began playing with your hair.

“When did you two decide to do this whole Daddy/Baby thing?”

“We’ve always enjoyed everything that comes along with being a Daddy and not just sexually. Perfect example, seeing your face light up when I told you I took care of everything with the apartment. I like seeing you happy.”

“I mean the same applies in bed to.”, Eddie chuckles. “We like seeing you unravel and tremble because of us. Why did you decide to do this?”

“I’ve always preferred more dominate men who could take control. I didn’t realize they would be so hard to find.”, you smile. “Maybe I was looking in the wrong age bracket. I needed two OLD MEN.”, you tease as the rockstar bites his lip across from you to stifle a laugh. “I’ve never cared about the money aspect that comes along with it.”

As they nod, you take both men in as they continue to relax. Because of the heat Eddie had removed his shirt so you could see how low his jeans really were as his blue boxers peaked out above the waistband. His hair was perfectly fluffed out, just barely resting on the top part of his smooth back. Any time you tried to run your fingers through it, he always made a joke about how tangled it was but you didn’t care especially when his eyes would close and he would hum lightly in pleasure when you did.

Steve had showed up in his suit and you had yet to see him in anything else but at least in this moment he seemed relaxed. The first time you were with them, he appeared agitated which Eddie had explained it was because the mogul didn’t want you to feel used after your ordeal. The couple of times after, he constantly displayed an air of confidence which wasn’t abnormal with Daddies you met but in this moment when he put that wall down…he was adorable. Even his hair relaxed as the product began to fade, allowing it to move every which way.

“You both are handsome.”

They had been in the middle of conversation you didn’t realize they were having until you blurted your statement making them pause as they turned to grin your way.

“Thank you.”, Eddie laughed, air hissing through his teeth. “I think it’s time to take away the booze, Stevie.”

“Pfft I’m not that drunk.”, you giggle. “Trust me, you’ll know when I am. I can be mean.” Both men chuckle and make mocking facial expressions as you playfully glare. “I know you don’t want to tell me what happened with your last Baby but… she’s a fucking idiot for not keeping you two around.”

You don’t see but their features falter for a moment before Steve finally collects himself.

“You’re technically our first Baby.” Your eyes widen in shock and amusement as he nods before popping open another can of beer. “I know. Plot twist, huh?”

“Obviously we talked to other ones on that site but you were the only one that intrigued us and the first we’ve ever met with. Like Harrington said, we like the aspects of being a Daddy which includes taking care of the girl we care about. Individually and together…it just got exhausting after a while jumping from one date to the next trying to figure out their motives. At least this way…there’s some order to it. Another reason we like you is because you ARE up front.”

“So… your last girlfriend must have really hurt you then…if you decided to give up that scene to this.” They glance your way at your comment as a sad sounding sigh escapes you and you pull your knees under your chin. “I’m sorry.”

“Y/N, can we ask for one more favor?”, Steve asks in a serious tone that makes you face him.

“Yeah, Daddy, of course.”

“Have you googled us yet? Or did any kind of snooping?” Both men exhale in relief when you say no. “You wouldn’t lie to us right, baby girl?”

“No, I wouldn’t lie. I wanted to but you wanted privacy. I respect that. Plus, I’d rather you tell me things than for me to read it.”

“Good…good girl.” Eddie praises as you blush. “Can we keep it that way?”

“Yes, Daddy, I promise.”

“What’s going on over there, pretty girl? Why are you all shy all of the sudden?”, he teases eliciting a small squeal as you duck your head into your arms.

“I’m just glad you two came over. I really needed this.”

“Yeah, honey? Is there anything else we can do for you?”

“Actually…”, you sing. “I got a new toy the other day. Would you like to see it?” After they nod, both men watch you rise to your feet and excitedly run towards your bedroom. When you return, you hastily open the box it came in and produce a pink vibrator for them to see. “I figured since I have two Daddies now I can use this if you both are away. This part is like the normal vibrators you see everywhere but this end here goes into my behind and this little part up here plays with my clit.”

“Have you tried it out yet?”

“No, Daddy.”, you answer Eddie’s question shaking your head.

“Well, why don’t you, baby? Give it whirl and tell us how it feels.”, Steve instructs in a husky tone that has you biting your bottom lip.

Tossing aside your comfy clothes, you sit naked before them as your eyes suddenly fleet between each man.

“May I lean against one of you?”

You can’t help but laugh when both men turn to each other and without any hesitation or prior conversation begin to play rock, paper, scissors. The metalhead wins, throwing his hands victoriously in the air as his friend rolls his eyes before lifting his body and crawling towards you to place himself behind you. Melting into his touch, you lean your head back onto his shoulder and kiss his cheek as he tilts down to kiss your neck.

His beautiful large hands softly run up the back of your thighs and hooks them behind your knees making you giggle like a little kid as he pries your legs open. They watch with eager eyes as you squeeze a small amount of lube into your palm and your breath hitches slightly as you lather it between your cheeks.

Eddie army crawls forward till he’s a few inches in front of your cunt, sighing as he lays his head on his forearm.

“Fuck, you smell so good.”

Smirking, you glance down to make sure the toy is positioned properly before focusing as you insert all the pieces in their respective places. Your body tenses a bit as you lean your head back and close your eyes.

“Everything ok, honey?”, Steve whispers.

“Y-Yeah. Fuck… just feels a bit…different.”

“For something about the size of a regular vibrator, it really blocks my view.”, the rockstar whines making you pout. “No, shit, hey. I didn’t mean that as a bad thing.” Quickly pushing up onto his palms, his fingers grip your chin, and tilt you so he can kiss your lips. “As long as I can see your face and hear those pretty sounds coming out of your mouth that’s all I care about.”

As he starts to pull away from you to lay back down, your free hand shoots out to grab his shoulder.

“Wait…Can you…stay this close to me to. Please, Daddy.”

A shaky breath escapes Eddie at your needy tone before hastily collecting himself and clearing his throat as he tilts back to sit his heels.

“Yeah, baby, yeah. Of course, I can do that for you.”

After pressing the little button, the toy comes to life and your groan instantly hits their ears.

“Jesus.”

“How does it feel, pretty girl?”

You barely register Steve’s question as your body lights up with every kind of sensation, your mouth falling open as a soft uh falls through.

“He asked you something, sweetheart.”

“F-Feels…feels…good.”

“Hey. Can you open your eyes and look at me?”, Eddie asks as the other man’s lips gently peck between your shoulder and neck. “Y/N, open your eyes.”

At his firmer tone you do what he commands, mewling loudly when you notice his hand had slid down his pants so he could ease the ache of his cock pressing almost painfully against the denim.

“Good, good girl. Don’t…fuck, you’re so fucking sexy…don’t take them off me.”

Steve’s mouth grazed your ear and his low, husky whispers had you trembling against him.

“There you go, baby girl. Make yourself cum. You deserve it after the long day you had. After you make yourself cum, your Daddies are going to take care of you, honey. We’ll fuck you till that little brain goes quiet. Fuck, I can hear how wet you are. Makes me so fucking hard.”

Your eyes rolled back as the coil snapped and you pushed back against him as you came.

“No, hey, no, baby. Don’t run from it.”, Eddie lightly scolded as he grabbed the end of the toy and continued pumping inside of you at a rigorous pace.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Daddy, please.”, you begged as you pushed at his hand.

After delicately removing the toy, he tossed it out of the way, collecting you in his arms, and positioning you so you were straddling his waist.

“You have to take off your pants.”, you breathily giggle when you feel the cold metal of the button on his jeans against your puffy lips. The rockstar’s eyelids flutter as he grunts in frustration and his arm grips your body to him as he uses his free hand to sloppily push them down his thighs. “Baby, you can let me go to take them off. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Damn right you’re not. You’re ours, princess. Fuck.” As you clung to his neck hovering over his lips, his eyes remained on your face as you slowly sunk down onto his cock. “Can you say that for me? Tell me who you belong to?”

“Mmm—I belong to Daddy. Oh my…so deep.”

“I know, baby, I know. There you go, that’s it. Just ride my dick just like that.”

His palms held the meat of your behind as he guided your movements while you bounced on top of him. Eddie’s gaze never faltered as he continued to take in every little movement that twitched along your features. Every time your bodies connected; your eyebrows scrunched in pleasure. When his length would roughly hit that sensitive spot inside you; your mouth fell open as you panted against his lips.

His favorite part was when either of you moved at a faster pace, you pulled him as close to you as you could. He loved feeling your needy hands pushing against his back to bring him to your chest or when your head fell against his shoulder as your fingers ran through his tangled mess of hair.

If he could be this close to you all the time he would.

“Fuck, Y/N.”, he practically growled as he lifted you up and placed you on your back underneath him. His lips roughly kissed yours as he rolled his lower half into your own. “You feel so fucking good. I need you to cum, pretty girl. Please.”

Your eyes opened at the word as his closed in focus, that little crease in his forehead as he thrust at a quicker pace had you swooning as you reached up to cup his cheek. A small smirk flickered across his mouth as he did the same; his thumb absently caressing your cheek.

“Just like that, Daddy. I’m gonna cum. W-Will you cum with me?”

After nodding, the sound of skin hitting skin filled the room till it was replaced with your whimpers and his grunts as the coil snapped and you both came.

Steve had been patiently waiting as he watched you both together, stroking his cock as your beautiful moans filled his ears. He desperately needed you but he knew how to wait; you’d be his soon enough.

After removing all of his clothes, he tossed them to the side, wanting to feel every part of your skin against him this time. As Eddie backed away, the mogul beamed down at you as he took his place.

“Are you ok, honey?”

He chuckled softly at your lopsided grin as you reached up for him to bring his lips to yours.

“Yeah, I’m ok. I want you.”

“I like hearing you say that. Can you say it again?”

“I want you, Daddy. I need you.”

Falling onto his side next to you, he guided you to do the same with your chest against his and one of his arms under your head.

“I just want to be really close to you, Y/N.”, he murmured as his large palm slid down your spine, over your ass, and along your thigh as he lifted it over his hip. Steve only released you long enough to guide his cock inside of you before placing it against your back near the base of your neck. “Fuck, baby, still so wet. Did Daddy make you feel good?”

“So good—mmm—I’ve never…”

“Never what? Tell me.”, he instructions as he continues doing little but deep thrusts into your core.

“No one’s ever fucked me like this…at this angle…”

He can’t help but lightly laugh making you sigh as you smile and lean your forehead onto his.

“We told you, baby girl. You’re with men now. We know how to take care of a beautiful woman like you.”

As he finds a steady, firm rhythm, you feel like you’re going to melt into a million tiny pieces as he stretched you open. Steve’s palm continued to roam your skin as his other remains firmly positioned behind your head, keeping your face as close to his as possible feeling your pussy clench every time he moans into your mouth.

“That’s it—fuck—just hold on to me, Y/N. Don’t let go.”

“Never.”

You didn’t even realize you said it but they both heard as it fell from your lips. Feeling his pace falter, he pounds into you hard and fast trying to get you over the edge before he cums. Tears streak your face as you tremble against him and while your cunt quivers around his cock he warms your insides as he spills inside of you.

“Fuck…fuck, fuck, fuck…”, Steve pants as he lifts your head and pushes back the hair sticking to your face. “Are you alright?”

A wide toothy smile greets him as you tilt back and giggle.

“Yeah, baby. That was perfect.”

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you into a quick shower.”

“Nooooooo, Daddy.”, you whine making Eddie laugh as he jumps to his feet in only his boxers.

“Come on, ya big baby.”

He starts to tug on your arm like he’ll drag you if he has to causing your smile to grow as you rise to your feet and let him lead you to your bathroom. After putting on his own boxers, Steve trailed behind taking in the things around him.

Even though the majority of people had music on their phones, you had a small shelf filled with records and a record player. Along your walls were pictures of you with different people he assumed to be your family and friends. As he entered your bedroom, there was a bookshelf filled with reading material and he couldn’t help but smile when he notices a book hanging out that pertained to his business.

You were trying to learn and understand; he appreciated that.

What he didn’t like was when he placed the book back down a picture that was nestled in the back binding tumbled out.

It was you with another man’s arm wrapped around your shoulders.

Steve heard your laugh as you and his friend exited the bathroom and he held it up in your direction.

“Where did you get that?”, you asked as your face fell.

“It fell out of this book here.”

Your eyes closed as you sighed, taking the book from his hand and placing it on your dresser.

“I didn’t know it was in there.”, you mumbled.

“So you could hide it?”, Eddie asked with a tone filled of accusation. “Who the fuck is this?”

You try to control your anger as you watch the rockstar snatch it from the mogul’s hand as the other man stares at you waiting for an answer.

“My ex.”

“Yeah, that’s going to require some more explaining.”

“He let me borrow the book. Look, it’s not what you think! I asked a friend to ask him for it. I didn’t even think the asshole would put his fucking picture in there. I don’t even know why he’d do that.”

“To manipulate you and make you miss him.”, Steve growled. “Why are you taking anything from him at all?”

“Can we talk about this later, please? I’m so tired.”

“No, we can’t, Y/N. This is the second time this man is popping up suddenly and after what happened the first time I don’t like it.”

“What part? The part where I still went on a date with him or the part where he assaulted me?”

“Does it matter?!”, Eddie yelled. “Both were fucking awful. Nobody should be putting their hands on you and you are ours. We’ve made that very fucking clear!”

“And it’s crystal clear to me, Eddie. I don’t want to have anything to do with him!”, you scream, grabbing the image and tearing it up. “I try to avoid him as much I can but it’s hard! Fuck, this day sucks so much.”

“Why is it hard, Y/N?”

Folding your arms, you feel your heart start to break as you prepare for the worst.

“Because we work together! That’s how we met. We went to school together back home and when he got a job here in New York I followed him. He suggested I apply to and to my surprise I was hired to!” You shrug as you wipe the tears that began to fall. “I thought we were going to be together forever. I was a fucking idiot.”

Taking a seat on your bed, your head hangs but after a few seconds the mattress dips on either side of you as Eddie pushes your hair behind your ear so he can see your face.

“Usually, he just ignores me until he wants something…like last time… Since I started seeing you, now I ignore him and according to idle gossip it bothers him.”, you explain as you roll your eyes at the end.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”, Steve inquires.

“Why don’t you about your last girl?”, you snap.

As he exhales in frustration, Eddie rises angerly off the bed and stomps into your living before coming back with his phone in his hand. Falling to his knees in front of you, he flashes you the screen but when you try to take it from him he pulls it back.

“Read.”

“Gina Frost, daughter of 90s film star, suing guitarist and business tycoon for palimony.”

Your gaze shifts up to meet his with confusion.

“H-How have I never…”

“Our lawyer managed to put a lock on our information and we don’t actually go into a court or anything. Not yet anyway…”, he sighs.

“Can she…I mean…palimony is for a couple not a—”

“Yeah we know.”, Steve cuts you off a bit harshly. “Add that twist into the knife she stabbed into our backs.”

“I’m so sorry. I really am… I didn’t tell you about my ex because I felt stupid and I thought…maybe you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore if I told you. I swear, Steve, Eddie, I don’t have feelings for him. I like you two. I mean I know this is just a…I don’t know…a thing right now but I do enjoy talking to you. I feel safe with you and even though we can’t put a specific label on it I at least consider you my friends. You know…my old man friends that fuck me from time to time.”

They both laugh at your joke causing you to smile as you relish the sound.

“We felt the same.”, Eddie responds first, guiding you against your pillows as he follows and climbs in beside you. “She took advantage of us and it took us forever to even catch on. We like you to...”

“Very much.”, Steve added as he curled up beside you as well. “We’re not that old, ya brat.”

You giggle as they pull you closer to their sides.

“Are you safe? From him, I mean?”

“Yeah, he won’t do anything while we’re at work and if he did I would knock him out. That’s what happened last time. He yanked on my blouse and I turned around to punch him. He told people in the school he got in a bar fight defending a girl.”

“Jesus Christ. What a dick.”, the rockstar chuckles.

“Thank you both for coming over. I really need this…needed you.”

That makes them softly smile as you slowly begin to drift off to sleep. Eddie’s eyes scan his friend’s demeanor as he absently plays with your hair.

“Steve Harrington, whatever you’re thinking about doing, you can’t.”

“I don’t like him being in the same building with her. What if he hurts her again?”

“She said he won’t. Ah, ah.”, he tuts as the mogul starts to argue. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t like it either but… that’s not part of our deal. We have to trust her. Unless she asks us to deal with him, we shouldn’t bringing that kind of attention our way.”

“Eddie, I don’t care about that kind of attention. Fuck Gina and fucking popular opinion.”, he growls. “What if…what if we can’t get to her or what if he does something worse… She said he changed after they moved. It just makes me nervous especially with us going out of town soon. I want to know she’s ok.”

“She’s a strong girl and if she needs anything she’ll tell us. We can’t control her like that. We aren’t those kind of men… we aren’t our dads.”

Steve glances his way, exhaling as he reaches over to pat his best friend’s arm.

“You’re a good dude, Munson.”

“Aw.”, Eddie coos. “Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself, Harrington.”

#################

@aol19 @paradisepoisons @paleidiot @dashingdeb16

@lilaclazer @joannamuns9n @thwippyparker @emotionaldreamer

@aactuaaltraash

316 notes · View notes

fanficsat12am · 5 months

Text

when the brothers realize how much MC loves them I Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus

📜 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃!! 📜

Lucifer & Mammon

Happy New Year everyone!! Hope ya guys had a great flippin holiday time :> As always, notes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated <33 Have fun reading!!

Leviathan

Putting himself down was second nature to him at this point—sometimes he didn’t even realize he was doing it. It especially got even worse after getting into a relationship with you. His mind refused to believe that anyone could ever love someone like him.

Levi dreaded the day you’d finally see what he sees and ultimately decide to leave, but he wouldn't hold it against you. Why would you settle for someone like him when there were countless others in the three realms who could give you so much more…

“Hey, you okay?” you asked worriedly, noticing his glazed look and how his eyes had dimmed. “O-of course I’m fine! Pft, why would I be lol,” he stumbles out, trying to keep up his facade—but of course, you saw through it.

As he tries to get back to his game he can feel your eyes piercing him.

“I’m going to ask you how you are one more time and I would like you to answer me honestly,” gently taking the controller in his hands from him and placing it aside. “Now tell me, what’s up?”

“I-I’m sorry,” he said, the words not too foreign to his tongue.

“If this is about last week I've already told yo-” “Ugh, that’s not what I meant…” he cuts you off, trying to find the right words.

“I-it’s just…you could have had ANYBODY else, but instead you’re stuck with me. I can’t 1v1 Beel's body, Diavolo’s money, Asmo’s looks- heck even stupid Mammon’s got charm! I'm just Levi, the plain old third-born…” he bites his lip, trying to keep his tears at bay. His efforts proved futile as he felt its warm trickle slowly dripping down his face, one after the other.

A part of him wanted to take back everything he just said—to restart and pick a different approach. But this wasn’t another one of his games. This was real life, and in here you've only got one shot. It was game over, he knew he had lost.

He shut his eyes tight, listening closely for the sound of you finally walking out those doors. He couldn't bear to watch you leave him.

You shake your head at the absurdity of his words, cupping his face into your hand. “I’m not stuck with you, silly. I choose to be here.”

Opening his eyes back again he's met with you smiling at him, the sight making his heart skip a beat.

“I’m here because I can’t get enough of you. I love how your cheeks would go red when I catch you staring at me,” you say, leaning closer and leaving a kiss on his cheek.

“How your brows would furrow and your eyes would squint whenever you’re focused on your game,” sending a kiss by the bridge of his nose.

You gently grab his wrist and fumble on the soft skin of his palms with the pads of your thumb. “How you’d start gesturing with your hands a lot when you talk about the latest anime you’re into,” you reminisce, another kiss now to the back of his hand.

“How right before you fall asleep, you hold me closer and whisper to the dead of the night how much you love me,” you say as you end it with a tender kiss to his lips.

“And each day I find myself falling for you even more. They could try to give me the whole world, but they’ll never be you. So please, stop thinking you need to earn my affection because you don't. Not now and not ever.”

You lift his face up to meet your gaze, looking at him as if you see right through him. “There is nothing I would change about you. You are perfect in my eyes.”

He felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. He was left speechless, his mind going haywire with everything you had just said.

Seeing how his brain had completely stopped working, he let his body do all the talking instead. He wordlessly wrapped you in a tight embrace, cherishing the warmth of your body against his.

The bitter taste of the sin he was meant to represent felt absent. Levi sensed no need to be envious of others when he had someone like you to call his.

Satan

Not once had he let himself think that he could indulge himself in something such as love—for wrath did not deserve the peace of love. While love held everything together in its warm embrace, wrath tirelessly tore with its cold unforgiving hands.

Despite their differences, there was no denying that both were blind. Just like a moth, you were entranced by the beautiful embers of his flame, blissfully indifferent to the heat.

He stared at his reflection with disdain. The obsidian black horns adorning his head felt heavier the longer he looked, not to mention the tail that whipped mindlessly on its own. He gritted his teeth in disgust, delivering a blow to the mirror that sent it hurdling to the ground. Through his ragged breaths and the rapid beating of his heart, he hears a voice not of his own.

"Satan?" you called, breaking him from his trance-like state. You softly closed his door behind you, hands outstretched and unsteady.

With each step you took, he took two back—his mind screaming at him to stay away from you but his heart yearning to leap into your hold.

"Hey, it's okay," you reassured, taking a step towards him.

"No it's not!" he screams, backing away from your approaching form.

Hearing the crunch of glass under the weight of his shoes, he takes notice of the mirror he broke just moments ago. Reflected on its cracked surface was a distorted image of him; a monster.

"Please, let me help," you pleaded, trying to close the gap between you. He hastily steps back, tripping on his own feet and leaving him a heap on the floor.

"Don't come any closer!" he screams, the room shaking with the sheer volume of his voice. You kneel to his level, quickly engulfing him in your arms.

‘Run. He doesn't deserve you. Just stay away.’ He repeated in his head like a silent prayer, hoping that by some miracle it would come true.

But as he felt you hold him tighter, he knew you would do nothing of the sort. As he trembled in your arms, he wills himself to ask the question that had been plaguing his mind since the day you'd started dating.

"Why?" he whispered softly, almost inaudible if not for the heavy silence of the night. "I could lose control. Why do you insist on staying? To even consider feeling anything for a monster such as myself is just…foolish."

You think about your answer carefully, knowing that what you say next will mend or break the man in your hold. "Loving someone takes courage. To trust someone with your heart and believe they would keep it safe. Keep you safe. Let the three realms call me foolish but there's no doubt in my mind that I love you, Satan. Not the Avatar of Wrath, you Satan,'' you answer truthfully, pouring every ounce of your heart into each word.

Gently taking hold of his chin, you tilt his head up to meet your eyes. "Tell me now Satan, will you hurt me?" you ask, the demon shaking his head immediately. He wouldn't dream of ever wishing to cause harm to you. He would die first before anybody, let alone himself, hurt you.

"Then it is not foolish of me to love you" you say, your words unfaltering.

Tears welled in his eyes, accepting defeat at the hands of your love and melting deeper into your embrace. As he lays on your chest, he turns to face where your heart would be and whispers an oath. "I love you, MC. I shall protect you with my life" he vows, sealing his promise with a kiss.

Asmodeus

As the Avatar of Lust and the Jewel of the Heavens, he was always the talk of the town. You, on the other hand, weren’t too familiar with the gossip world. Although you knew that was going to change once you officially became a couple.

You took no mind to it, brushing them off with a small wave knowing that the wrong move could only add more oil to their flame. But Asmo wasn’t like you. He could feel all the looks they gave him, the incessant whispers and murmurs whenever he’d turn his back.

He typically had no care for whatever lies people have heard about him. The same could not be said though when they had the audacity to include you into the mix. It was slowly chewing away at him and he couldn’t deny the pit of doubt slowly churning inside him.

“I saw MC out with one of the brothers last week. They’ve been getting closer recently. I wonder what happened between them"

"I saw them leaving school with Simeon yesterday, I’m surprised that’d cheat on Asmo with someone like him”

”They’ve got the most powerful people of the Devildom wrapped around their finger and they’re still with Asmo? Damn”

The final blow was realizing that everything was better without him in the picture. Your smile wasn't just bright, it was brighter, you weren't just happy, you were happier.

He slams his door shut, sliding down the wooden surface as he feels his legs give underneath him.

‘Can’t you see? They were never the problem. No matter what you do, you could never satisfy them. Once again you've proved to be useless.’

‘You think they’d just be swayed by your face? By the number of followers you have? Underneath it all you're nothing. It's just pathetic.’

He shook his head, gripping and pulling on his delicate sand blonde hair. No matter how hard he cupped his hands over his ears, their words never ceased. His eyes pricked with tears, months of silent torture finally finding his moment of weakness.

You on the other hand were beyond worried. You were no stranger to Asmo’s flamboyant walk outs but this was different. As you neared the door to his room, you could hear silent sobs and cries on the other side. Knocking softly, you worriedly call out to him.

“Asmo?” The sobbing stops, rendering the halls eerily silent. “Darling, what’s wrong? Can I come in?” Still no response.

Asmo freezes at the sound of your voice, the loud thumping of his heart drowning out the constant knocking on his door. An internal conflict rages within him. Not only is the person causing all this mess of emotions on the other side of the door, but the only one who can make it all go away as well.

“Please talk to me. I need to know that you’re alright.” Just as you’re deciding if you should get some help from the others, the door opens. From it, a hand grabs your wrist, swiftly pulling you inside and closing the door.

Looking around, the usually bright and pinkish room was cold and dark. You could barely see anything with the only light coming from his window.

The crisp silence of the night was cut by the uneven breathing of Asmo who was still by the door. You reach out to gently place a hand on his shoulder.

“Sweetie?” you call, fingertips only a few milliliters away, when his voice stops you in your tracks.

“Do you love me?” he whispers.

“Of course I do,” you answer immediately, not missing a beat.

You gently grab him by the shoulder and turn him to face you, your heart breaking at the sight of your lover being in so much turmoil.

“Oh, Asmo…” your hand tenderly holds his cheek, the other wiping away the tears that have yet to cease from falling.

“Each day, I hear another rumor about you finding somebody else…” he pauses, taking a deep shuddering breath. “If you’re going to do it, please just do it already and save me the mascara.”

He knows that watching you leave will hurt more than any hangover can ever do to him. It would be like he was falling from the pristine white gates of Celestia again, powerless as he saw all he held dear fade into a memory of what he had once had.

He could try to convince himself that the rumors were true. That you were only ever with him for his fame and looks and that he never cared about you. But of all the lies that have circulated, that would have been the biggest one.

“Honey, I’m not leaving you. Not now, not ever,” you say as you tuck a lock behind his ear. “If you think I’d ever love someone after you then I have failed in showing you how much you mean to me.”

Through blurred vision, Asmo tries to find an ounce of deceit within the windows to your soul; a malicious grin, a break in eye contact, a drop of sweat. Nothing.

He lets out a shuddering breath he didn’t know he was holding, pressing his soft hands upon your own and interlacing it with his. It was stupid of him to ever doubt your feelings for him. To hell with what they thought of the both of you. All he cared about now was now, being here in your hold, forever.

“You’re so cute sometimes, darling…" he whispers in amusement, a small smile finally making its way onto his lips.

“Please tell me I still look fabulous even after all that tears. Ugh, my eyes are gonna be so puffed up tomorrow!”

You chuckle at his comment, happy to see him start coming back to you. “Still ever so stunning, My Prince.”

“Let’s stay like this for just a bit more, hm? All this crying made me tired. Then after, we can run a nice warm bath for the two of us. Doesn't that sound wonderful?” He murmured, melting more into your touch.

“Whatever you’d like, darling,” you replied, pressing your forehead to his.

And there you stayed, forehead to forehead, hands intertwined, just you and him in the comfort of each other's touch.

AN: Thanks a bunch for reading!! Would love to hear your thoughts in the comments <33

693 notes · View notes

toji-girl · 3 months

Text

pick up | s. gojo

wc: 1.3k

tags: 18+ only - mdni + plug! fem reader + explicit smut + weed + frat boy! gojo + modern au + shot gunning + dubcon + car sex + fingering + pussy eating + handjob + teasing + creampie + nipple play + maybe a part two or something like a series I had fun writing this + reader is a little bitchy + thanks to everyone who voted 🫶🏻

Incoming Message: Satoru G.

1:18 a.m: can u get me a bag and a j? iou (´♡ヮ♡`)

As soon as it came in you turned your TV off then pulled on a robe covering your silk pajamas and stuffed your feet in your slippers grabbing everything needed before making your way to your car.

"Are you kidding me?" You mumbled looking at the text message from Satoru that sat as read while you waited for a response growing irritated that he was making you sit there in the parking lot for him.

It was nearing two now.

Your manicured nails tapped along your phone screen changing the song and rolling your eyes when there was still no text, you put it down sure it wasn't going to go off soon, and began to roll his joint.

Two pink ones because Satoru was always sure to eat your pussy for good measure and as much as you hated to admit he was the best to ever go down on you so you always threw in a freebie, for the sex too.

The third one was your own that you lit sucking in the smoke and letting it saturate your lungs for a moment before exhaling it in a white puff leaning the car seat back and humming to the song softly.

After it ended your phone lit up with a phone call.

You looked at it annoyed that it was an hour after he sent that, waiting until the last minute you hit the green button and clicked the speaker button. "You're an hour late. I hate that Gojo." You huffed.

In the background you could hear a loud party, and given that it was a Saturday it made sense for him to be late. "I know, I'm on my way now. Wait for me sweet girl." He purred, the music and people fading.

"I told you not to call me that, just hurry up because not all of us are partying away our education." You snapped and hung up hating the way the pet name made your belly break out in flutters of butterflies.

Fifteen minutes later Satoru's sleek car pulled up next to yours and a moment later he was sitting next to you, the smell of his cologne mixing in with the weed made your mouth water. "You waited for me."

The joint you rolled was halfway gone already and instead of answering him you gave it to him and changed the song. "Because you owe me, remember?" You replied with a shrug of your shoulders.

Satoru smiled smugly and reclined his seat tucking one hand behind his head, his white hair looked soft under the glow of the moon that shone down from your sunroof as your eyes followed the hair that peeked from his shirt that hiked up when he shifted taking a hit.

"I do. You're so good to me." He teased catching your look as he sat up to lean in sliding his hand to the back of your neck and leaning in to kiss you blowing the smoke in your mouth, his tongue dancing along with yours while his free hand untied the front of your robe.

Your hands buried into his hair tugging him closer with a soft moan before you pulled away to take the joint from him. "Before you drop it, and you are something else." You shot back ashing the rest of it.

He watched you and let his hands trail down the front of your chest until his long slender fingers reached the buttons of your shirt. "Is that why you answered my text at one in the morning?" He hummed.

Silence blanketed the cabin of your car as you watched him until your pj top hung open baring your breasts to him. "It was the heart eyes that did it for me but also the money is something I enjoy too." You replied trying to pretend that he didn't have a strong hold over you.

Satoru laughed softly.

"Don't pretend like you knew it wasn't going to end like this." He purred leaning in and brushing his lips against the column of your neck igniting the nerves that sparked like tiny fireworks.

While his mouth descended down your chest you let your hands reach over to rub his bulge over the soft fabric of his sweats before sliding under the band of his boxers feeling the soft pubic hair.

He wrapped his lips around your nipple suckling with precision making your back bow pushing more of your breast into his mouth that he cupped, his other hand tweaked your free nipple gently.

The weed had your body feeling pliant like clay that Satoru easily molded to his own liking. "I like you when you're bitchy but I also like you docile for me, so easy to mold however I want." He husked.

His voice was dark when he pulled away from your nipple, a string of salvia bridging from the bud to his swollen lips, blue eyes stared back at you with low lids, just like you, he felt hazy and high as hell.

Slowly his fingertips trailed under the band of your pj shorts, white eyebrows shot up when he felt no panties stopping him from rubbing your pussy spreading your slick that was warm and very sticky.

Your jaw went slack when he pressed his finger into your clit before tracing the soft opening of your pussy barely pushing in all the while your hand wrapped around the shaft of his dick jerking him off.

The both of you used your free hand to roam across each other's bodies while your mouth met in another heated kiss, his tongue stroked against yours before he began sucking softly with a moan.

Pre-slick pooled at the tip of his dick adding a little bit of lubrication to the action, the shlick-shlick sound roared in his ear as he added another finger inside you curling and rubbing just the right spot.

It didn't take long for the both of you to move to the backseat with you straddling Satoru, his sweats and boxers pushed down mid-thigh as you rubbed the head between your pussylips teasingly watching him with a smirk. His head rested against the seat staring back.

"You're so pretty." He whispered cupping your cheek before tracing your lips with his thumb letting it slip between them and watching you suck it as you sunk down on him slowly until he bottomed out.

Pretty crystal blue eyes rolled to the back of his head feeling your pussy choke him in a velvet heat that dripped down his shaft and sack making a mess on the leather as you sat still huffing softly.

His hands rested on your hips helping you ride him before moving to your tits, rolling your pert nipples between long fingers as you pressed your palms to the ceiling of the car fucking yourself on him.

Satoru moaned so prettily, soft pants and grunts as you bounced up and down feeling the band in your belly fray until it snapped, your climax coming a lot sooner than usual as you sat down all the way.

He looked down to where you two met thankful you slipped your shorts and panties came off when you moved letting him get a good view of him buried deep inside your gaping cunt that clenched around him tightly making him gasp as you started to move again.

There were no words able to be spoken as you rode out your high drowning Satoru in it as he came in hot thick spurts filling you and creating a sticky mess that almost frothed between your bouncing.

When you finally slowed down you nuzzled your sweaty face into his neck kissing it softly while he massaged your back keeping you close to him riding out both of his highs while kissing you softly.

400 notes · View notes

mirohlayo · 5 months

Note

hello lynaa!!

could you do (any driver) x reader where they just spoil em rotten with all these never ending very expensive gifts and reader gets emotional and he comforts her?

i love ur work btw <3

hello !! i literally LOVE this one, thanks for requesting it :)) i really struggle to choose between charles and oscar but i decided to go with oscar yeah (also thank u so much it's so sweet 🫶) hope it's okay !!

YOU'RE MY BEST GIFT | OP81

( despite the fact you don't like it, oscar can't stop spoiling you because you deserve everything )

warning : none just reader getting emotional, fluff and fluff

word count : 2.8k

!! english is not my first language !!

you are for sure the most precious person ever for oscar. being his partner means that he constantly makes sure you're always happy. he literally puts all his being into your relationship, he tries his best to keep everything perfect. if you're not satisfied enough then he's not either, and he always manage to do his best to make you feel fulfilled by his love and affection.

it also means that he obviously likes to spoil you. it's kind of his love language. he needs to buy you something, whether an object that reminded him of you or tons of expensive stuffs like perfumes, clothes, shoes... money doesn't matter for him, as long as he makes you happy with his little gifts then everything is good. plus he earns a pretty good amount of money, so he doesn't wait a single to waste it into gifting you lots of things.

so of course he notices the little stuff you were always looking at, whether on your phone in your shopping cart or when you would stare a bit too much at some storefronts during your dates. he often catches you looking at this pair of shoes that you really want for a while now, this oversized hoodie which reminds you of your boyfriend because there's literally the number 81 on the back, or also those cute pastries you always talk about how good they look.

but you know you'll never buy these things, maybe later in months but they're just too expensive for you. you can afford them but you can't all buy them in one seat, you also need to save money because you share your apartment's spending with oscar. you agreed at the start of your relationship that both of you will take part in renting, shopping and getting all the stuff and furniture you need to live together.

and your job pays you very much less than oscar's job so obviously you don't have the same income and money to spend it on extra expensive things you like. but it's okay, you actually like earning money little by little and when you finally have the good amount of money you're always happy to buy these little gifts you dreamed about.

now you are sitting comfortably on the couch, your laptop on your laps. your favorite playlist is playing on the loudspeaker in a low volume and you just have finished a schedule for your next week of work. "are you okay love ? do you want something to drink ? or a snack ?"

your boyfriend's voice comes from behind you, where the kitchen is. you turn your head and smile to him "a glass of water then please" you gently ask "no problem" he replies and opens one of the kitchen closet to grab a glass. you move again to go back to your laptop, and while you delete open pages on google, there's your shopping cart that appears. you forget to delete it last time.

you hesitate to delete the page, but your eyes gaze at the pretty things you put in your cart. you really want these cute shoes and this hoodie for a while now, and you'll be lying if you said you didn't dream about them everyday. you're so envious of those people who own them, sometimes you bump into some girls who are wearing them and it makes you even more excited about getting the shoes and the hoodie.

oscar soundlessly comes behind you, a tray with your glass of water and some fruits on it. just for you, because he's simply the most caring and sweet boyfriend you ever had. he approaches you in silence and you don't hear his steps, too occupied by the clothes on your laptop screen. but obviously he notices that you are once again staring at the same shopping cart. the same one as months ago.

he knows how much you want these items. maybe you're a bit desperate now and oscar doesn't like that. if you really want something then you'll have it. he likes to spoil you. he likes to buy you things because it makes you happy and he just needs to see your smile. but you're aware of the importance of money.

money is something very important for you and you know its value. so despite the fact you like receiving gifts, when oscar would spoil you too much with so many expensive things you can't help but get a bit angry. because you don't want him to spend all his salary for you. you're actually very reasonable and rational. you're humble and expensive gifts are like very precious to you because you value things

and oscar loves you for that. he thinks you're just so respectful and you never ask for anything, he don't even think you ever ask him to buy you something over your relationship. you always try to afford things by yourself and your hard work. and your boyfriend admire this. so when people or his "fans" would call you a scrounger, a girl who is here just for oscar's money, he get so annoyed. because if there's one person who doesn't count and don't care on his money at all, it's you.

he sighs and sit down next to you. "here's your water, princess" he says and he hands you the glass. you quickly change the shopping page to an other one with a youtube video, you panicked a bit because you don't want oscar to see you looking at these things. because you know he'll tell you that he can buy you it, and you always end up by scolding him gently, saying that if he dares do it you'll be mad for weeks.

"thanks love" you smile and take a sip of your water. he wraps one of his arms around your shoulders and pull you closer to him. "you finished your work ?" he asks against your hair, planting a soft kiss on it. "yes, i can finally take a break" you nod. "good then. i can have your attention" he hums and he's quick to move your laptop from your laps to place it on the table.

"cuddle me for a while" he says and he lay down on the couch. he makes you shift and you lay down too, your head on his chest and your legs crossed together. he wraps his arms around your back, rubbing it softly. "you work hard y/n. i'm so proud of my pretty girl" he smiles wide as his looks fall on you. you giggle and he can feel your laugh vibrates against his body, making him smile even wider. "i know. i'm such an amazing woman" you state with a tone of irony. "of course you are babe" he genuine knows it, he's proud to be boyfriend.

he starts placing lazy kisses on your head, sometimes on the back of your hand, still stroking your back. he run his hand under your hoodie, and his fingers rubs your soft skin softly, like you're a piece of porcelain. he's just too caring and he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. but his soft touch makes you feel sleepy, and it doesn't take too long before you start to sleep.

he notices it because your breathing is slower and more regular. he places an other kiss on your hair. his eyes shift to your laptop screen. there are still your google searches on it, and he can't help himself but stretches his arm to move the touch mouse. he clicks on the page of your shopping cart, and knows he has a good look of the products you genuinely want.

he grabs his phone out of his pocket and he quickly takes a picture of the screen. he smiles to himself, proud of what he's going to do later this evening. now he knows what he needs to do.

"and i'll take the strawberry one too please" oscar says as he waits for the seller to wrap the ten pastries he just finished to order. the seller hands him the little red box with the white ribbon around it. the blonde grabs his credit card and pays without looking at the price. he's not even bothered, because a silly smile is playing on his lips.

he bought you these pastries which you talk about every time you found a tiktok about it, rambling about how sweet and delicious they look, and oscar was listening to you. he finally bought plenty of them today for you, ten pastries to be sure you'll have enough. and if not then he'll go back again at the bakery to buy more. until you're satisfied.

now he's going back home, already excited to see you and your expression when you'll discover all the things he bought today. he told you earlier that he needs to get some groceries, which was a lie because he used this time to purchase all the stuff you so want. he literally went to all the different stores of the mall : perfumery, bakery, jewelry store, plushies store and more.

he knows he has spent a huge amount of money just for you but he absolutely doesn't care at all. you're his princess and you must receive princess treatment. so that's why he bought this cute plushie you genuinely adore, and also your favorite set of perfumes even though you already have an extra double at home. buying you jewelry was inevitable, he chose two bracelets and two necklaces, also several pairs of earrings. and the cherry on top is the matching bracelet he carefully chose for you and him.

but nevertheless he got some groceries, most of them just being your favorite food and snacks. he totally spent a lot of money, he may not even have a penny left in his bank account but it's absolutely fine, as long as it's for you he doesn't pay attention to it. he's simply happy to treat you well. to treat you like you deserve it.

he parks his car and run to the door. he's carrying all the gifts and bags in his hands. he's completely full. he rings the doorbell and seconds later he's meeting with your pretty face. "i'm back" he simply says and you let him go into the house.

first you didn't notice all the bags he was carrying, because there are two packages which were delivered during oscar's absence and which are lying around the door. you are sure you didn't ordered anything, and oscar didn't tell you either that he ordered something so why these two packages are lying on the floor ?

"oscar, what are these packages ? i didn't ordered anything and you didn't too" you start and frown looking at the boxes. your boyfriend take off his shoes and he was going to speak when you finally notice all the bags in his hands. "and why are you carrying so many bags? there are around ten of them !" you say shocked, your eyes dart out.

he only smiles to you and hands you all the bags "surprise princess ! the packages are for you and these bags too". you don't realize, you just blink. is this real ? you look at him completely lost and he laughs seeing your confused expression. "you ordered the packages ? you really bought me all of these gifts ?" you ask still not realizing what he did.

your boyfriend nods rapidly like a child, a wide smile stuck on his face. "i wanted to please you because you deserve it love" he replies. "but oscar..." you start and he knows you're going to get mad at him because maybe he did too much. but he doesn't want to hear that so he doesn't wait and guides you to the couch. he makes you sit on it and he brings all the gifts around you. "now open them. it's all for you".

you sigh and look him in the eyes. "baby i appreciate it but do you realize you bought too much ? like it's an incredible amount of things" "of course i am aware of it and i don't care at all." he shrug and sit down next to you. you look like you're going to refuse all the presents and oscar doesn't want that. he places a kiss on your cheek and put one the package on your laps. "open now. i know you'll thanks me later for that"

you can't do anything but open all the boxes and bags in front of you. you cut the cardboard and open it. the beautiful pair of shoes you so wanted is meticulously wrap in the box. you don't realize. you're clearly shocked. you pick up them carefully and admire them. they're so pretty. and oscar knows he wins everything when a big smile come up on your face. "i don't even know what to say. i wanted them for so long. they're so pretty oscar"

"they'll look perfect on you" he states and a second later he feels your lips on his cheek. he giggles at the sudden touch "next gift baby !!" he says and either him can't hide his excitement. you can't help it too, you forgot for a while your dissatisfaction towards him because you're like a kid at christmas in front of all of the gifts. you open the second package and your look fall on the white and orange hoodie which reminds you of oscar.

it looks perfect. perfect like your boyfriend. the hoodie is clearly making you smile wider, though you were already getting cheek cramps. "how it looks ?" he asks in a nervous tone. "just incredibly beautiful and perfect" you says as you touch the soft fabric. "good. but we are not done. they're still the bags here" he points out the remaining bags on the floor.

and you open them all. the perfumes, the jewelry, the plushie, the snacks and even the pastries. you don't know how much they all cost but you're sure it's very very expensive. but you can't hide your happiness, you're so grateful for that. all the gifts are just more than enough. and your dissatisfaction turned into thankfulness.

all of these gifts, the way he bought you everything you wanted because he wanted to please you, all of that makes you emotional. and you can't help but let some tears fall down on your face. oscar notices it and he starts to panic. "wait- are you okay love ?" he asks cautiously. you wipe a tear and nod to reassure him. "yes don't worry i'm okay. it's just... it's just..."

you let a sob and he can't take it anymore. he pulls you into his arms, pressing soft kisses on your face. "tell me y/n" he says softly. he don't want to push you, just so caring. "it's just that i don't want you to spend all your money and buy extra expensive things to me. i'm okay with what i already have, i don't care if i can't afford what i want. i just don't want you to waste all your money only for me"

oscar smiles softly and pulls you closer. oh how his heart pang from love. from affection and adoration. he's so in love with you. he rubs your cheek with his thumb and place a soft kiss on your lips. "but you know that i don't care princess. i want the best for you and i want to treat you well like how you deserve to be treated. i like to spoil you. i like to buy you gifts" he explains to you. "but you're already my best gift oscar"

his brain stopped to work just as his heart skipped a beat. he can't hide his smile. "and you are too. that's why i genuinely want to pleasure you, because you're a princess that deserves all the love in the world. money doesn't matter. i know you don't like that but i'll never stop myself to spend money for you. you are the only person I would do anything for and all you have to do is ask me what you need, i'll give it to you right away"

you let another snob out of your mouth. the boy starts to peck all your face. "i don't deserve you oscar. i'm so lucky to have you." "no, i'm the lucky one. i don't even know how i managed to pull someone like you" he laughs and you giggle. "i love you oscar. so much"

he smiles and leans in to kiss you tenderly. his lips move perfectly on yours. he pulls back and look at you with heart eyes. "i love you too my girl". you hide your face in the crook of his neck and you stay like that for a while. until he gets up. "now i'm gonna make some coffee for you to drink with the pastries"

and he'll put on the table a tray of pastries, a cup of hot coffee next to them. you'll share the strawberry cake with your boyfriend, and you'll remains him of how perfect he is. because after all he's clearly the best boyfriend in the world...

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fanfic #op81 x reader #op81 x you

416 notes · View notes