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#a happy ever after is what they deserve <3
wrioluvr · 1 day
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coming out to + confessing to belobog men. ⋆⋅♡⋅⋆
note: wanted to try my hand at writing more cute stuff <3 also there are like ZERO posts in the luka x male reader tag my baby deserves more. happy pride my beloved readers!!! i wrote this like 6 months ago and coincidentally just picked it back up in time for june! i don't even play hsr anymore... crying emoji content: male reader, fluff. luka, sampo, gepard
sampo (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
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would 100% know before you even told him
"hey, [name]! heard you got something to tell me, don't worry, your good pal sampo's all ears."
"sampo... uh.....i like... guys...."
"oh, is that it? i thought it was obvious..."
"HUH????"
"i meant- thank you for trusting me enough to tell me. your secret's safe with me, hehe." placing his hand over his heart in a dramatic gesture, he promises sincerely. despite his initial reaction, he really is touched. not many people trust him, so your willingness to share something so personal made him feel special.
"oh, and one more thing....."
"what is it? you got a secret boyfriend you didn't tell me about?" he asks teasingly, not expecting the bomb you're about to drop on him.
"...i like you."
his eyes go wide. "now that's a surprise."
even though he'd scam people without a second thought, some calling him cruel, he can't bring himself to be indifferent to you. here you were, pouring your heart out, with such a nervous expression on your face, how could he maintain his usual sly demeanour? in all seriousness, he knows he's a bit scummy, so he would be a bit hesitant about getting into a relationship for your sake. he's always running about, chased by the authorities, he doesn't want you to be involved into all that. but if you're willing to accept him and his slippery ways, he'll be sure to put an equal amount of effort. he hates owing favours, after all.
"oh, how could i refuse such a an enticing offer? of course i'll be your boyfriend, [name]." he can't help the grin that appears on his face at your expression, simultaneously shocked and overjoyed. "seriously, you're too precious.... c'mon, let's go on a date!" throwing an arm around you, he squeezes your shoulder excitedly.
"wha- like right now?? and you accepted my confession just like that???" you're at loss of words as he drags you along to who knows where.
"what are you waiting for? let's go, pal! wait- should i call you pal now that we're dating? how about buddy? hmm... still too friendly. how do you feel about sweetheart?"
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every time he appears at your door, giving you a sheepish grin as he explains how he needs to lay low for a bit, it always comes with a kiss, or several, along with a heart-shaped box of your favourite chocolates. he might go missing for a few days at a time on "business" (probably some illegal trading), but he always makes sure to update you on his whereabouts so you don't worry, sending a bunch of heart pom-pom stickers to let you know he misses you. if anyone were to ever make some snide comments about your sexuality, his first instinct would be to drop every job he's doing and comfort you, followed by using his various contacts to deal with that person swiftly. natasha and seele can't believe he actually got someone to like him, much less get into a serious relationship, but nevertheless, they make sure to look out for you to ensure he doesn't break your heart. he vows not to ever hurt you though, it's the last thing he'd ever want. his promises are often fickle with his clients, but with you, they're always sincere.
luka (૭ 。•̀ ᵕ •́。 )૭
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would definitely being overenthusiastic about being an ally
"[name], hey! you wanted to tell me something? i hope it's about training with me...."
"sorry, luka, it's not about that.... i.... i just wanted to let you know that i'm gay."
"oh! like seele and bronya!"
"i mean- i guess....?" your nervousness was immediately replaced by a comical surprise at his response, you had to suppress your laughter. he was so genuine, it was endearing.
"don't worry! if any thugs give you shit for it, just tell me. i'll deal with them right away... i've been itching for a fight anyway." he immediately gets into a fighting stance, throwing a few punches in the air to get his point across. he ended his little show with a wink, causing your stomach to fill with butterflies. you decided to tell him then and there.
"and uh, luka. i like you."
"aw, thanks! i like you too. you're a great friend, [name]."
"like, in the romantic way..."
"that works too! that way, i can protect you easier." without missing a beat, he flashes you a grin and a thumbs up, seemingly unfazed by your sudden confession. but the slight dust of red on his cheeks let you know your words did have an effect.
"wait... you know this means we'll be boyfriends?" your head's reeling at how easily he accepted your feelings. did this man really not think about anything but training and beating up thugs??? not that you were complaining, his drive was one of his charming points, but still.
"yeah, i don't mind. with someone like you by my side, i'm sure i could take on any enemy. thank you for giving me this opportunity."
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even though he puts on a strong front, secretly, he's deathly afraid of becoming a burden, especially to you. one of his favourite pastimes is training and working out with you, or he'd be content for you to just watch him train and cheer for him as well. as long as he has the reassurance that you know he's getting stronger, allowing him to shield you from the dangers of the underworld. if he ever gets injured, a simple persuasion won't work, you'll have to physically hold him in place so that you can treat his cuts and bruises - no matter how much he protests and insists he's fine, he does appreciate it. a lot. he enjoys the little things, the way you run your fingers along the cool metal of his arm as you ramble about your day, or the enthusiastic whoop you give every time he knocks an opponent out at the fight club, or the scent of the freshly cleaned towel you bring him to dry his sweat. you help him realise that there's time to relax, his self-imposed training schedule being so intense and demanding. getting him to not be so hard on himself would be a treat. if you ever get derogatory comments about your sexuality... trust, he'll personally teach them a lesson, and ask natasha not to treat them once he's done. after all, you give him another reason to continue training to be the strongest. he has to be there for you.
gepard ( •̀ - •́ )
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dense cutie... wouldn't get your hints until you told him explicitly
"my apologies for being late, [name]... you had something you wanted to tell me?"
"no problem, gepard... i just wanted to tell you that-" taking a deep breath, you prepare youself for his reaction. "-i like guys."
"oh? me too, i'm quite fond of the guards under my care."
"i mean that i'm gay..."
"oh, that's what you meant. are you telling me this because you've faced some form of discrimination lately? don't worry, belobog has strict laws in place to prevent-"
"no, gepard- i'm telling this because i like you..."
"oh."
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congratulations, you've courted the sweetest man in all of belobog! initially, he was slightly worried that your newfound relationship would interfere with his duties as protector of the people, but much to his surprise, making time for you is easy. or more so, it's because you always make the effort to stop by whenever he's out patrolling, so you end up spending a lot of time together anyway. his face might get red when you blow him a kiss behind the rest of the silvermane guards' backs, but he always makes sure to let you know how much he appreciates your guidance. he's a little self-conscious about his lack of romantic experience, so be gentle with him! don't tease him too much. while he is fully devoted to his duty, he's not above slipping away for a few minutes when you text him to meet in a back alley, to gift him some flowers you may or may not have stolen from belobog's florist. the next day, he would return the favour by holding out a bunch of your favourite flowers, home grown (an attempt was made) in his very own garden. hey, even if they're slightly wilted, it's the thought that counts, right? don't look at him with that affectionate gaze! he's embarrassed. it would be quite funny if you had criminal tendencies, gepard would be absolutely torn between lecturing you and turning a blind eye simply because his lovely boyfriend had made lunch for him earlier in the day. especially if you're friends with sampo, the little shit would threaten to snitch to you everytime gepard almost catches him. or.... perhaps.... he let you off the hook because of that one time you pinned him against some alley wall (when he was supposed to be patrolling! blasphemous.) and kissed him so hard his legs gave out. you've become one of his weaknesses, but he doesn't mind it. at all.
pic credits to dailysampo, dailygepard and dailylukaa on twt!
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koolades-world · 2 days
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I’m so proud of you for getting 2K followers!
Can you please do Simeon x reader (the two are already dating) with Simeon saying both prompts 5. "I’m here. You're safe with me" and 9. “are you bleeding?”
Please and thank you! :D
thank you so much!! i gladly will :))
i don't think i've ever written a dedicated piece for simeon so i'll put my whole heart into this to make sure it does him justice!
enjoy <3
prompts 5 and 9 w/ Simeon
It was getting late. The songbirds were asleep, and fireflies could be seen out in the open field near Purgatory Hall. The stars lit up the sky and if you listened close enough, you could hear demons laughing with one another. On any other day, the sight might be enjoyable and would be a great opportunity to gather loved ones to savor the moment.
But, it was too late for Simeon's liking. He was expecting you home hours ago. You had even called him, letting him know you were on your way home, and that you were running one last errand, despite the fact that you were out with friends. He didn't want to rush or question you though. You were an adult and your own person. You didn't need him looking over your shoulder. How he wish he did though.
He didn't want to call the brothers, because they would tear apart the Devildom searching for you, nor did he want to wake up his housemates out of fear they'd view him as irresponsible. He checked his D.D.D. for what felt like the hundredth time that hour, and after looking at the time, he decided he was going out to find you himself. If you were still running your errand, he could just apologize. He just wanted to make sure you were ok.
Just as he had gathered all his things and was about to put his jacket on, he heard the keys being inserted into the lock of the front door, and he heard it crack open. With the biggest sigh of relief he'd ever let out, he hung the jacket back up and rushed to greet you. You looked tired, and had your jacket oddly draped around you. But, he didn't question that. Instead, he was more focused on the bouquet of flowers in your hand.
"Sorry I took a while to get home. These are for you, sweetie. They took a tumble, so I'm sorry they look a little rough. " You held them out to him, and he felt as if his heart was about to explode from joy. Nobody had ever given him flowers before. He took them from you, and spun them around in his hands. He studied them closely, and found a little note stuck on a picket in the center. You watched anxiously as he removed it and read it.
"Mc. You're too kind. I'll have to make it up to you in some way." The note read 'because you deserve it <3' and Simeon was over the moon at the sentiment. There was no occasion. Mc just wanted to do something nice for him in a way he hadn't expected.
"I thought you might like them. No need to make it up to me. You're my boyfriend. That in itself is more than enough for me. You're my gift, silly." At your words, he threw his arms around you, unable to contain his feelings. He was usually so composed, but he just couldn't hold it in. He found it kind of ironic he found true happiness in the Devildom, but he could live with that fact as long as it meant he got to remain by your side.
In this hug though, something felt off. You leant into him heavily, which he might normally put off as you being loving and happy to see him again, but that combined with everything he'd observed when you'd entered, he felt as if he should at least ask. "Are you alright, my love?" He stepped back a little to scan you for any signs of harm. The way you wrapped the jacket tighter around yourself told him everything he needed to know.
"I'm alright. Just tired from my night out is all." You tried to comfort him with a warm smile, but he was quick to shut that down.
"Be honest with me. This isn't me trying to be mean, and you know that." He glared at you in a way you'd never seen before. With a sigh, you realized the act was up. You shrugged the jacket off, and at first, Simeon saw nothing wrong. But, as he looked closer, the fabric of your shirt looked as if it was damp.
"Are you bleeding? Why didn't you tell me as soon as you got home?" The flowers were quickly set on a nearby table as he rushed to your side to inspect you closer. You lifted your shirt just enough to show off the three evenly spaced slashes on your abdomen.
"I didn't want you to feel bad about the gift." You confessed. He was quick to put two and two together.
"Did you get this while getting my flowers?" Your silence was telling.
"I know what you're going to say, so you don't need to," you sadly told him. He put his arm around your shoulders and led you to the living room. He sat you down on the sofa and told you to hold still while he healed you.
"You should see the other guys." You weakly smiled at him, in hopes of trying to lighten the situation.
"There was more than one? We'll be talking about who did this later since I want to focus on your right now, but you can't casually mention things like that." Simeon sighed. He went silent after that to focus on healing you, and like magic, all that was left of the wounds was scars. Now, the two of you were just staring at each other silently.
"Why didn't you call me?" He remained in front of you to look you in the eyes.
"I had it. I didn't need any help." At first, you planned to stop there, but you couldn't hide anything from him. "They told me they'd hurt you if I tried to ask you for help, and I panicked. I was really worried about you, and they told me no matter what I did, I wouldn't be able to escape." You leant into him again, tears welling up in your eyes.
"Sweetie, it's alright. You did great." He wiped the tears as they fell. Despite the sparse amount of tears, you looked upset and worn down. "I'm here. You're safe with me." His words seemed to resonate with you, and you tightly clutched him as if he might vanish.
"Thank you. I love you." You rested your head on his shoulder.
"I love you too. Remember, your safety always comes first. Any world where you are is a world I want to be in." He gave you a kiss on the top of your head. "By the way, thank you for the gift, I really appreciate it," he told you, gently smiling.
"I thought you'd like it. They made me think of you when I saw them." He couldn't deny the fact that you were always on his mind, and it warmed his heart to know that you felt the exact same.
"Now, let's get you to bed. You need rest. I'll watch over you." With that, the two of you headed off so you could get your well needed rest. Simeone was glad you were safe.
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wonnieluvr · 1 day
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forever with you
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pairing -> grayson hawthorne x fem!reader
summary -> you break off your current relationship for grayson hawthorne, a past love. logically, you know you shouldn't but the heart wants what it wants.
warnings -> none :)
a/n -> some fluff for my love finally !! pt 3 of photographs of you and thinking of you
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seeing grayson again had not been in your plans. at all. you didn't know how you were supposed to explain any of what had happened to your family or to your date. your boyfriend. it wasn't an engagement you had really wanted, just something that would put you a step further ahead in life and he was nice, he treated you well.
but he wasn't grayson. he wasn't your grayson.
that shouldn't have mattered, you mother reminded you harshly the minute word of your meeting reached your family. as you had returned to the gala your mother immediately cut in, having heard grayson's name, warning you not to make any rash decisions.
was it really a rash decision if you had been waiting years for a moment like this?
your date had quickly noticed the change in demeanour. he was swift to pull you away.
as you danced in a room full of people, it should have been him on your mind. he, who was touching you, holding you gently and dancing with you carefully. but it wasn't. no matter how hard you tried it wouldn't ever be.
"you love him" the words had startled you, but they weren't untrue. your boyfriend offered you a small smile, bittersweet and so understanding. you hated it. hated the way you had never fallen for one another. maybe then you would have had no trouble. it might have been simple. you had shared stories of those you had truly loved, first loves gone wrong. you had bonded over that. the hurt.
and here you were now, selfishly considering your second chance while he was stuck without one. "darling, you love him. you can't do anything about that" he dipped you softly, eyes saying everything as you stared at each other. "it's okay"
your eyes begun to water for the second time that night. "i can't do that to you" your voice was full of pain and sadness as you stood straight again. "i don't know if i can do this"
"stop it" he chided softly, brushing your hair back into place as you both paused in your dance. "you would tell me to take my chance if she came back to me. so, i'm doing the same for you. you deserve to be happy. it's okay"
your shoulders dropped slightly, pained and fighting your raging emotions. "but i-"
"sh, go to him" he held your cheeks in his hands for a moment, gently caressing your face, admiring your beauty. "but if he breaks your heart again, i don't care who he is i will kick his ass"
you laughed softly, humourless. you couldn't help the way your heart filled with such great sadness for the boy you had come to spend so much time with. but your grayson was waiting, the same way you had been these past years. you had a chance and you'd be damned if you didn't take it.
you had cursed the hawthorne boy for years. you had harboured hate for the whole family after what they had said to you. you loved gray, yes but it wasn't going to heal those wounds over night. breaking off your relationship for him was something your parents advised against, very strongly when you had told them what you were doing. your mother had tried to dissuade you, remind you off their cruel words, the way they had treated you.
"i can't just give up. i have to try, i love him" you had pleaded. they had shaken their heads but they understood what this meant to you. they had hated seeing their little girl so hurt but they couldn't deny the happiness that had come before that. the way life shone in you when you had been with grayson was something they had never seen since.
it was worth the chance if you believed it was.
you met with grayson a week later. both of you were nervous, unsure of what to say to one another. you had barely ever seen this side of gray, the one who worried and fretted, the one who cared so openly.
while he had shared smiles and murmured words of love to you he had never really showed you himself. he had never been brave enough to truly let you in. and now he was.
he stood before you now, normally steady hands holding out flowers to you with a slight tremor to them. he had shown up at your door, sudden but expected, with the hopes of rekindling your relationship.
"gray" you breathed out, eyes widening when you opened your door to his figure. he wore a suit, as usual, but no matter how many times you saw him, he never failed to make your heart flutter. "hi"
you offered him a small smile, neither of you knowing how to proceed.
he stared at you for a moment longer before he blinked slowly, coming back to reality.
"hello, these are for you" he spoke softly, he had never used the hawthorne tone with you. even if he did, you would never have needed him to. he only needed to ask and you would have done anything he wanted.
"thank you, they're beautiful" you ignored the heat in your cheeks as you took the bouquet from him, fingers brushing his. you disappeared inside for a moment, putting them away in a vase and grabbing your bag before returning to the door.
"shall we?" you asked, trying to appear more confident than you felt.
if he noticed your nervousness he didn't mention it, merely holding an arm out to you, leading you to the car. he was tense, you noted. he knew it would take more than flowers to win you over again. and he was desperate to win you over.
"where are we going?" you asked, once you were both seated in the car, buckling your seatbelt up before properly turning to him. he was already looking at you, gaze soft.
"where would you like to go?"
with anyone else you would have frowned. you would have taken that as a cop out, a hint that he didn't know you and that he hadn't put the proper effort in to make the date special.
but this was grayson. grayson who bled power and control. he had a plan for everything and he had always had backups. he was giving that control to you.
you smiled softly, a memory coming to mind immediately as you glanced out the window to take in the weather.
a storm was coming despite the heat.
"what about the beach?"
the scene between you two was exactly like that of when you had visited last. it was the same beach you remembered, practically empty as a summer storm threatened the peace. the wind whistled in the quiet, as you walked side by side.
neither of you spoke for moment before you found yourselves in a familiar alcove. you smiled at the memory, warmth filling you despite the cold sea breeze.
"do you remember?" you turned to the tall boy beside you. he, once again, already had his eyes on you, watching you walk. you could practically see the two of you in his eyes, the same colour of the sea as you had unknowingly posed for his camera back then.
"how could i forget?" he whispered quietly, his hand reaching out for your face, pausing before he could actually touch you.
you didn't speak, breath catching in your throat as you stared into his eyes. you felt like you were back there again. back when everything had been fine, when there was nothing holding you back.
"i'm sorry" his expression twisted, lips forming a frown as he glanced away. his hand dropped away from you. he didn't deserve to hold you, to love you. "i hurt you and i-"
"stop" you shook your head, taking his hand in yours, gently squeezing it. the sensation was as familiar as it was foreign. "you are not your family, gray. i'm here for you not them. yes, you hurt me when you didn't say anything but i know how much pressure you're under"
"that's not an excuse-" he begun again, hand clinging to yours.
"i'm not saying it is" you grinned a cheeky smile, trying to lighten the mood. "you have a lot of making up to do"
he just blinked at you, mind running rampant with ways he could possibly do that. your grin only widened as you spoke your next words.
"you can start with giving me a kiss" you reached your free hand up to tap your lips, puckering them playfully and awaiting his move.
he didn't stay frozen for much longer, how could he ever refuse you? he let his own smile grow as he leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.
he pulled back first, but he couldn't move far, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck, holding him close. his hands automatically moved to your waist.
"i have a few more requests to make before i can forgive you" you announced into the centimetres between you. "but i think i need a few more kisses first"
he released a small laugh, eyes shining as he watched your lips move. "is that so?" he hummed, dipping down again to press his mouth to yours. he paused before he could, murmuring lowly. "and how long do i have to complete these requests, darling?"
"forever, gray"
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the hawthorne empire's heir, grayson hawthorne, is rumoured to be dating. find out more here.
"well, shit"
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kimwexlersponytail · 2 years
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The only thing that kept me going was knowing you were here.
#bcsedit#better call saul#mcwexler#jimmy x kim#kim wexler#jimmy mcgill#been seeing a lot of people saying that they don't deserve a happy ending after everything and though i get why that's being said#i disagree with the idea that they must be punished by the narrative in the form of an absolutely devastating end where they both die or#are broken down even further because they're Bad People and they Deserve It...their relationship is the heart of the show and#i don't believe that the writers spent over half a decade building this relationship up just to leave everything hanging in the balance#we can argue all day about jimmy and kim being Good or Bad but they love each other. they do. and bcs is a love story#do i believe that they're going to live happily ever after and get a fairytale ending? no of course not but i don't see a doom and gloom end#for them either. narratively speaking jimmy has been in prison all this time and who knows what kim has been up to all this time#i just don't think it would be narratively satisfying if the ending was about punishing them i really don't#i think it's going to be bittersweet for sure but there's no doubt in my mind that it'll be full of heart....#but god all of the takes about jimmy not deserving to meet up with kim in the gene timeline are just making me root for it even harder#and i really hope the world turns back to color the moment he sees her and idc how many people think it's cheesy <3#and you know what someday maybe they'll finally get their house.#mine
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astrxealis · 2 years
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venat makes me the saddest
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#i love her soooo much and i love how it is almost purely familial/platonic#i think she deserves all the best for real. she deserves to be happy and free#flow always makes me so sad :((#tbh i said this b4 but enw already hits me a lot as is rn! and esp bcs i understand how. despair is like. yeah#but i have yet to lose a loved one and i'm terrified. absolutely terrified of that (<- kid who cried at the thought of a loved one leaving#even before i was 10 y/o) so i'd love to replay enw then bcs... it'll make it hurt more in a way that Heals. if that makes sense#ffxiv funny lil game and also really good game but also it is... not for the light of heart as well?#enw is so heavy i think? and the dark undertones throughout the whole game are... yeah. yeah.#but i truthfully think with all my my being that it is an experience everyone should try out. once. ffxiv means so much to me.#i think it is beautiful though how we all have that different thing we think everyone should get into!#it speaks of how unique each and every one of us is. and i love who i am in all of the beings in the world#because there is only ever me; and i forgot what i was going to say and also strayed off topic!#anyways i love final fantasy xiv so much and i think there's something really just there about people who have shared the same experiences#which is why it is really important to be with those similar to you! and for me that is especially final fantasy and drakenier#but that doesn't mean all the others around you are less. they are just as much; just in a different manner#<- me maturing from my bitter thoughts a few months ago! i'm still improving though <3#yeah this all was nice to write even if this was so off topic in the end#though it still is related tbh mhm? <3#i am not perfect and i never will be; chasing after something i will never achieve will only lead to further downfall#but it is important to do what we can. be there for ourself. be there for others. love and love and love.#these are all things i've learned through many aspects of life and ffxiv and my growing as a teen really affirmed it for me
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isildheir · 6 months
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Honestly, my abuser saying Louis was just as bad as Lestat or basically implying they hate how people write Lestat off as more abusive than he is or that Louis was just as abusive was a red flag I should've put a lot more stock into.
#The guy was Empathizing with a capital E.#God hold me back cuz I LAUGH at them. Abuser all weh u..abused me..cuz...u called me stupid and annoying when I wouldn't let u leave me#after ur 30239929292th attempt#Youre abusive cuz...u made me feel so unloved when you kept trying to leave me! :'(((#LMAOAOOA yeah if thats abuse then slap my ass and call me sally cuz ill always try to leave you#You fuckin insane psychopath. constantly putting damn words in my mouth and telling ME what i ACTUALLY mean#you dont care about anything i have to say. you need to be the one slighted to justify why you feel so offended 24/7.#dude u wanna be a fucking victim so bad then fuckin be my guest u fuckin miserable sick sad sack of absolute dog shit#always calling me a liar and putting me on the podium to state my case infinite times till you hammered me into gaslighting myself#to support your interpretation. go to hell.#you are chronically miserable for a reason. and you will NEVER find reprieve in that. EVER. just as you deserve.#YOU made me start therapy because of the CONSTANT confusion and emotional trauma i endured with you.#YOU made me cry all the time at work.#YOU gave me chest pains and difficulty breathing. just seeing YOUR DAMN NAME on my phone gave me panic attacks#YOU did so much FUCKED UP SHIT to me and you NEVER ACCEPTED ANY REALITY BUT ME HURTING YOU ON PURPOSE#you literally tell me 24/7 i dont care about you and i would drop THOUSANDS of dollars on you#AND FUCKIN WATCH UR SHOWS 3 TIMES IN A ROW#AND CALL AND TEXT U EVERY NIGHT. SIT AND HELP YOU PREP FOR JOB INTERVIEWS.#I DREW UR DAMN OC SO OFTEN HE PRACTICALLY BECAME MY MOST DRAWN CHARACTER#I DID SO MUCH TO SHOW U I CARED. BE IT GIFTS. MONEY. BE IT TIME. BE IT HELPING IN#UR VTUBING CAREER U WANTED TO START.#BE IT SPENDING NIGHTS SOMETIMES TILL 6AM JUST MAKING SURE YOU'RE OKAY.#I JUST. DID. SO. FUCKING. MUCH. IT WAS NEVER ENOUGH FOR YOU. I HOPE YOU DIE. SUFFER. BURN IN HELL.#I HATE YOU. I HATE YOU. I WILL NEVER STOP HATING YOU.#I GAVE YOU SO MUCH. I WAS HAPPY TO TOO. WHAT A FOOL I WAS. NOTHING I DID WAS EVER ENOUGH. YOU ALWAYS HAD TO FUCKIN COMPARE#OR GET JEALOUS WHEN I SPENT ONE SECOND WITH ANYONE ELSE#U NEEDED TO GRILL ME FOR EVERYTHING#ASK WHO I WAS WITH#NEEDED TO KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING JUST IN CASE IT WAS SOMEONE YOU DIDNT LIKE#UR FUCKIN ABSURD. UR INSANE. ROT IN HELL. FUCKIN GET TORN APART DOWN THERE. I HOPE YOU SUFFER. I WANT TO WATCH. I WILL LAUGH.
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rosyblooom · 23 days
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could you please do lando and a stem girl who goes to uni but has a private life please
they don't know about us | ln4 smau
pairing: lando norris x private fem computer science major!reader a/n: this took me forever but hope u still like :) also, if you've got requests could u add if you want it to be smau or fic pls <3
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landonorris posted to his story!
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landonorris posted to his story!
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[ caption 1: 🕒✈️ ] [ caption 2: miami 👋 ]
[ tagged: yourusername ]
yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption 1: shoutout to the inventor of coffee i owe u big time🙏 ] [ caption 2: uhm i was just going to rest my eyes for 2 minutes?? good morning i guess💀 ]
f1gossip
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liked by username, username, username and 12,057 others
f1gossip Y/N L/N, current girlfriend of Lando Norris, has been photographed arriving at the paddock for today's Miami GP.
Y/N's presence comes as a bit of a surprise, considering she was absent during practice and qualifying sessions, and rarely attends races. Speculation about a potential breakup has been rampant, but her appearance suggests that there might not be trouble in paradise after all... 👀
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username she always looks so classy and put-together, i'm obsessed <33
username no bc am i the only who has no problem with her only attending a few races a year? some ppl don't have time to jet off across the globe 24/7 like
username it's the fact that they literally travelled to miami together and she still didn't go to quali or practice😐 the other wags do it, why can't she?
username i just know lando had to beg her to come smh
username why are y'all so rude omg?? some ppl are introverts...
username when you're in the public eye, you don't get to be "introverted"🙃 username that's an insane take wtf?
username GUYS i think she's a uni student cause peep lando's story a few days ago🧐 that explains why she's never at gps
username so? i'm a senior and i went to the aus gp this year username okay... do you want a cookie ?
username if a wag is at all races she's fame-hungry, and if she doesn't she's unsupportive like make up y'all's minds pls 🙄
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yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption: YOU DID IT!!! HE DID IT!!! MY BABY IS AN F1 WINNER OMFGGG🥹🥳👏 you deserved this so so much, i'm sooo proud of you ❤️❤️❤️ ]
[ tagged: landonorris ]
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landonorris
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liked by yourusername, _aarava, martingarrix and 2,005,872 others
landonorris Memories for life ❤️
view all 5,947 comments
username aw the 5th pic🥹
username do you think number six is y/n??👀 username 100%
username 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡
username LANDO NOW WINS IKTRRRRR‼️🤩
username ofc y/n couldn't even be bothered to comment... and the most unsupportive wag award goes to y/n l/n!! congrats hun x
username y'all are weird YOU DON'T KNOW THESE PPL!! username it's the 'be kind' in ur bio for me miss gurl 🤡
username best day ever 🤧
lewishamilton 👏👏👏
(liked by author)
riabish sooo happy!!!
(liked by author)
username not ria being more of a gf then y/n oop username thanks for being such a good friend to lando, we love you💖
username next goal: beome world champion 👀👀
username yessirrrr
yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption 1: back to reality 💔 ] [ caption 2: jkjk it's not that bad, i don't cry nearly as much as i did in first year 🙂‍↕️☝️ ]
[ tagged: yourbestfriend, yourfriend + more ]
harvard
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harvard Final projects, theses, dissertations, and more! Check out what these soon-to-be graduates explored in some of their last assignements on campus.
Y/N's thesis navigated the intricate relationship between privacy and secure multi-party computation, enhancing data analysis while safeguarding sensitive information.
2. Steve's environmental science project examined urban development's impact on local biodiversity, providing insights for sustainable urban planning.
3. Nya's dentistry research poster explored new methods to improve dental implant success, promising better patient outcomes and oral healthcare.
We are celebrating the extraordinary members of the Class of #Harvard24 🎓
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username 👏👏👏
username Awesome!
username Very good! Congrats to all these students!!💪
username wait am i tripping or is this y/n as in lando's gf y/n???😳 btw my biggest dream is to go to harvard in '26 !!!! 💕
username 😍😍
username streets are saying y/n goes to harvard so i had to come check and omg??😩
username no bc wag AND harvard girly?? just looked at myself and sighed fr... username now i feel bad for talking shit🫤
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yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption 1: pulling an all-nighterrrr 😁 ] [ caption 2: nevermind, lando just made me promise to get some sleep :( ]
A few months later...
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yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption 1: couldn't ask for better shoulders to cry on srsly 🙂‍↕️ WE DID IT MY LOVESSS 🎓❤️❤️ ] [ caption 2: this us? 😏 (corny, i know...) ]
[ tagged: yourbestfriend, yourfriend + more ]
lando.jpg
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liked by daniel3.jpg, yourusername, carlossainz55 and 847,903 others
tagged: yourusername
lando.jpg 🍾🎓❤️
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username a win for women iktr 😌
username wow i'm so happy for her omg 🫶🫶 (jealous too but mostly happy loolol)
username LMAO are we the same person?
carlossainz55 👏👏👏
username now she has no excuse anymore
username if lando's completely happy with it all, why the hell are u upset? 🤡
username 2024 really gave us lando's first ever win and now this?? we love to see it 😍
yourusername ❤️❤️
(liked by author)
username we love you y/n <333 username i hope you'll be able to attend more races from now on!! i love seeing you in the paddock 💕
username the way i still haven't fully processed the fact that harvard gave her a shoutout goddamn🤯
usernmae not you calling that a shoutout bye💀💀
username AAHHHH YAYY CONGRATS Y/N YOU'RE DOING AMAZING SWEETIE 🤍🤍🤍🤍
0:33 ───ㅇ───────── 2:40
2K notes · View notes
il-miele-che-scrive · 4 months
Text
Go for his brother part 2
Part 1 here
Part 3 here
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username1 DOUBLE BETRAYAL 😭
↳username2 wdym bro wtf Arthur is just getting his karma, he CHEATED on Y/n with her best friend
↳username2 and Y/n only got with his brother after the breakup
username3 It's so crazy to me how not long ago Y/n was with Arthur at Charles' race and we could see them all lovey dovey and now she's with Charles 💀
username4 I hope they actually like each other and it's not just something Y/n schemed to get back at Arthur
↳username5 And even if it is, so what? Both Leclercs deserve this if she's doing it for the sake of revenge
username4 What did Charles ever do to you 😭 he's a literal pookie
username6 I am BEGGING to find out Arthur's reaction
username7 I wanna see this on Drive To Survive lmao
↳username8 The most interesting thing in the whole season lol
username9 Exactly! Men driving in circles? Nah, fuck that, give me family drama
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yourusername The Art & The Artist
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charles_leclerc I took way more than these 2 pictures, should post them all
↳yourusername some would get me banned🤭
username1 MY OH MY
username2 What did she say 😐
username3 I'm jealous but haven't decided if I want him or her
username4 Arthur better not read this comment section (I hope he will)
francisca.cgomes Thanks for blessing my eyes 🫶
↳yourusername You're welcome bestie🫶
username4 it's so nice to see Y/n found a friend who won't steal her bf
username5 You can't be sure, it's Charles Leclerc we're talking about. You think he wouldn't go for his best friends' girlfriend who is now his own girlfriends' best friend after pulling what he's just pulled?
username4 ngl girl I got lost in whatever you're saying
yoursister In your iconic girl era ❤️
↳yourusername I slayed didn't I 💅
username6 Honestly guys I believe it's not just a revenge scheme
↳username5 What makes you think that?
username6 Given these pictures and the pictures from the gossip page they look pretty much happy to me, too happy for it to be fake
username5 Whatever you say, we'll see. They have to get tired of pretending one day
exbestfriend Glowing ✨🩷
↳yourusername 😐
↳francisca.cgomes 😐
↳yoursister 😐
↳charles_leclerc 😐
↳pierregasly 😐
↳georgerussell63 😐
↳carmenmmundt 😐
↳alex_albon 😐
↳lilymhe 😐
username7 Y/N AND HER COMMENT SECTION ARE ICONIC 😭
↳username8 I can't stop imagining them having a gc and she sent a screenshot of her ex best friend's comment like "you know what to do, guys" 🤣
username9 I just know Arthur is screaming crying throwing up because LOOK AT WHAT HE LOST
username10 Lol who's next? Toto Wolff?
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arthur_leclerc My favorite love story is ours ❤️
view all comments
exbestfriend So happy we found each other ❤️❤️
username1 💀
username2 Alright they both have the audacity
username3 your love story is cheating on Y/n lmao
username4 Imagine they have a kid one day who'll ask mom dad how did you meet lol
↳username3 I'd be EMBARRASSED
username5 They deserve each other tbh
username6 Hey but... What if this pic and Y/n's pics were taken on the same day...
↳username7 wdym
username6 Arthur wanted to keep and eye on his ex and his brother from afar 😭
username7 it's terrible but possibly true lmao
exbestfriend I'm so sick of people judging us
↳username2 That's what you deserve, the both of you
↳username4 when actions have consequences:😮
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yourusername Back at the paddock ❤️
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username1 At least she didn't downgrade right?
yoursister You guys look so good together
↳yourusername Thank you 🫶 ily
↳charles_leclerc Yes we do 😊
↳username2 Y/s/n never commented anything like this when Y/n used to post with Arthur😭
lilymhe It was nice catching up with you when the boys were playing
↳yourusername maybe next time you and Alex could come over so the boys can play some video games together
username3 Pls they're just two single mothers bonding over their toddlers being besties😭
username4 I NEED TO KNOW IF ARTHUR WAS THERE
↳username5 You crazy? Ofc he wouldn't have come, he's too scared of confrontation
username4 Okay but then what if one day Y/n and Charles get married? Will Arthur just skip his brother's wedding?
username5 I think some time will pass before Charles decides to settle down. And not with Y/n, that's for sure
username6 Why not? Y/n makes a much better couple with Charles than she did with Arthur
username5 Charles would never take her seriously lol she dated his brother, Charles is just having fun with her while letting her have her moment
arthur_leclerc Are you wearing the dress you wore on our first date?
↳username2 SHE'S WHAT?????
↳username3 wtf are u doing here
↳yourusername Maybe...
username4 Mother keeps slaying 😭👏
username7 I aspire to be like Y/n fr
alex_albon Lily said we should have a double date
↳yourusername Let's do it then @/lilymhe @/charles_leclerc when and where
arthur_leclerc I just wonder when will you get bored of this
↳yourusername Bored of what exactly? Going to races? You know I've always enjoyed looking at cars go vroooom
arthur_leclerc You know what I mean
arthur_leclerc Of pretending to like Charles just to prove me some delusional point
yourusername You really think I'd waste my energy on that? It's a funny coincidence indeed, but I do like him actually
arthur_leclerc Mhm sure I give you maybe 6 months more, can't keep pretending forever
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charles_leclerc A family gathering & the morning after
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username1 OH GREAT HEAVENS
pierregasly Now that's something none of us expected
↳username2 bro speaking facts
username3 They said fuck you Arthur you'll get a proof we're not pretending😭
username4 Well at least the family already knew her
↳username5 Pascale liked Y/n so much she said girl you have my blessing no matter which one u marry
username3 Guys do you think Arthur was there? You know, it's a family gathering, so he had to be there, right?
alex_albon Charles settling down wasn't on my bingo card this year
↳lilymhe Neither was it on mine but I love it
francisca.cgomes Girl you realize there's no going back now? 😂
↳yourusername I hope so😜🫶
arthur_leclerc I still can't believe how disrespectful you both are
↳charles_leclerc Look who's speaking of being disrespectful
↳yourusername stfu arthur maman literally had to kick you out of the party
username3 The way it used to be "Thurthur" and now it's "stfu arthur" 😶
username2 at least the "maman" is the same right
username5 I feel like Pascale likes Y/n more than she likes Arthur
username7 wtf guys PASCALE HAD TO KICK ARTHUR OUT OF THE PARTY 😭😭
↳username8 That's crazy, imagine how's the wedding gonna look like
carlossainz55 Getting engaged after a few weeks? Is she pregnant?😂
↳username9 Not funny
username10 Chill that's just millennial humour from back when pregnancy outside marriage was a disgrace
↳charles_leclerc We've known each other long enough to make this decision 🫢
carlossainz55 Valid point
arthur_leclerc But for majority of this time she was my girlfriend
charles_leclerc On which you cheated
arthur_leclerc @/yourusername did you use me just to get to Charles? Was it your plan from the beginning?
↳yourusername Sure because I have nothing else to do lmao
↳yourusername We've talked about it yesterday arthur, don't start again
arthur_leclerc I just still can't believe Charles would do something like that to me
yourusername And half a year ago I believed you wouldn't have ever cheated on me
charles_leclerc I said it yesterday and I'll say it again, Arthur I will always love you as a brother, but you messed up big time, you can't be mad at us
3K notes · View notes
jamminvroomvroom · 12 days
Note
congrats on 5k queen! you’re writing is so brilliant beyond belief and you deserve all the love and support this site has to offer. can i request lando+angsty smut (the best combo)…prompts along the lines of “i don’t think im ever going to love anyone the way i love you”//“i don’t think i want to love anyone else”
how did it end?
ln x famous fem!reader
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in which it ends, until…
i love this fic with my whole heart. thank u sm for this request, anon, and for being so absolutely for gorgeous and kind <3 kicking off the 5k celebration with a big, sad, sexy bang! lemme know what you think, hugs n kisses
songs to set the mood: how did it end? by taylor swift
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst angst angst, fluff, happy ending! exes to lovers, just. a lot going on. sad!lando, sad!everyone, so many feels, r is a big deal model, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking
4.1k words
one gasp, and then…
“how did it end?” the woman strokes your arm, soothing, tentative.
you don’t know her all that well, she’s signed to the same agency as you, you see her in the halls sometimes and sit next to her in makeup chairs.
you stare blankly at her, registering. news travels fast apparently.
you smile, small, fake, tilting your head to the side. you mumble something about different schedules, timezones, right person, wrong time. she watches your face intently, with sympathy. you want to throttle her. she’s being kind and you despise her for it right now.
“i won’t tell anyone.” she affirms, her fingers still smoothing over the skin of your arm.
yes you will, you think. all of her friends, the rest of the building will know exactly what you’ve told her by the time you get to your meeting. you don’t begrudge her, though, that’s the nature of the industry.
“well, it was good to see you.” you nod, even go in for a quick hug, and then you speed away, beelining for the elevator. the ride is short, your managers office somewhere on the third floor and you shuffle down the corridor, ready to be informed of what your life will look like for the next three months.
fittings, shoots, paris trip.
mhm.
swimwear season, charlotte tilbury, meeting with the vogue journalist.
cool.
week off, few days in london, monaco grand prix.
no.
“what? no.” you splutter. out of habit, you reach for a necklace, frown when you realise it’s no longer there.
“what do you mean, no?” she narrows her eyes at you.
“i can’t go to the race. no.”
“girl, i love you, but did i ask?”
“you know i can’t-“
“you won’t have to see him.” she reasons.
“but what if i do? he’s obviously gonna be there, and the events before and after- no. no.”
“lando norris is not gonna be the end of you.”
you stifle a laugh, one that sounds more like a strangled cry.
what if he already was?
-
look who we ran into at the shops,
walking in circles like he was lost
lando stares at the shampoo.
specifically, the one you use. used. he can’t be too sure anymore, he supposes.
he’d popped out for a loaf of bread, about an hour ago. he didn’t want to acknowledge how long he’d been staring at the women’s toiletries section.
you seemed to live on, everywhere. lando could see you in his apartment, the passenger seat of his car, the back of the garage. even the fucking supermarket wasn’t safe. you were very much alive, moving on with life, and yet you haunted him like he’d killed you himself.
perhaps he had, in a way.
the basket grazes the outside of his leg.
that’s the shower gel he’d buy for you, the one you only used when you stayed with him in monaco.
there’s the tampons you asked him to buy, crying back at home on your- his bed.
oh, and there’s the shampoo that you made him buy, the one that you told him made his curls feel extra fluffy when he was between your legs-
“lando?” a voice calls, drawing lando out of the mist.
“oh, alex. hey.” lando croaks. he hasn’t noticed the lump in his throat until now. he clears his throat, running a hand through his hair.
“what you doing, mate?” alex asks, eyebrows furrowed. he scans lando’s face, puffy eyes, watery.
“shopping.”
“for women’s shampoo?”
“no, no, just… looking.” lando stutters.
“when was the last time you slept?” alex’s voice is laced with concern, apprehensive. he doesn’t know what to say to his heartbroken friend.
lando smiles weakly.
“i’ve been sleeping.”
alex sighs.
“okay, when was the last time you slept properly, then?”
lando’s shoulders visibly sag.
“about a month ago.”
-
we hereby conduct this post-mortem
“we can’t do this anymore.”
the words fall from your lips in a whisper, but they reach him like you’ve screamed them at him. he sits opposite you, in the arm chair, so far away, only a metre or so.
“i know.” lando breathes shakily.
“i don’t want this but…”
“yeah.”
it’s been such a good year. you’re in love. it’s not enough. there’s too much distance, too many outsider opinions, too much longing for someone who’s on the other side of the world.
he’ll be in london. you’ll be in brazil.
he’ll be in australia. you’ll be in amsterdam.
it’s too much.
“i love you, though.” you remind him meekly.
“don’t know how to not love you.” he sniffles.
your heart shatters, the pieces flying over the room, spilling across the floor. they mix with the splinters of his, painting the room red. all you feel is blue.
you cry in his arms when he takes you to bed, his own tears spilling over your collar bone when he buries his head in your neck, licks over the marks he’s left there. to remember me by, he’d muttered dryly.
when you’re both finished, he lays there for a moment, still on top of you. damp with sweat and tears, the taste of one another still lingering on your tongues.
“how is it possible that i miss you already?” he pants, lips grazing just below your ear.
“i get it, lan. i’ve been missing you for a while.”
you’re gone when he wakes up.
and so, a touch that was my birthright became foreign
-
come one, come all
it’s happening again
the empathetic hunger descends
there are about six cameras pointed at you when he asks the dreaded question.
you’re in new york, sat on a talk show hosts sofa, lit by stage lights and his inquisitive eyes. two hundred people sit in the audience, on the edge of their seats waiting for you to spill your secrets.
“so, what happened there, with lando?”
you plaster on the fakest smile to date, crossing your legs anxiously.
“we’re both just so busy, you know? he’s doing amazing things in f1 and i’m all over the place with work.”
“we love both of you over here, it was sad to hear.” he sympathises, adjusting his tie and leaning back in his chair. his fingers drum over the wood of his desk, waiting for more.
vultures. everyone is a vulture.
“and we still have a lot of love for each other. he’s a wonderful person.”
there are tears in your eyes and bile rising rapidly in your throat when you shake hands with the crew, the host, and retreat to your dressing room. you stumble into the en-suite and throw up. then, you fall onto the sofa and cry. you fix your makeup at godspeed and reply to the text from your team, inviting you to drinks at some rooftop bar, promising to meet them there. you punctuate the text with one too many exclamation marks, feigning excitement.
“we still have a lot of love for each other.”
translation: i can’t understand: how did it end?
-
lando watches your interview. of course he does. he watches everything that you do, watches the way you set the world on fire.
he can’t help himself where you’re concerned, like an addict craving the next hit. you look so pretty on tv, glowing. you look fine.
god, why do you look fine?
he hates himself for hating just how fine you look. he is not fine.
“he’s a wonderful person.”
your words ring in his ears. they anger him, because if he’s oh-so-wonderful, why aren’t you here? why isn’t he there with you, waiting backstage? why can’t you just hate him? why can’t he just hate you? maybe you will, if he shows you just how not wonderful he can be.
he gets drunk that night. forces max to hit the clubs with him. sticks his tongue down a pliant woman’s throat. doesn’t ask her name. let’s her invite him back to her place. it has to be her place, he can’t fuck someone else in your bed, the one you used to share. he leaves minutes after he’s pulled out. he’s sure she’s lovely, too good for him and his bitter fucking heart. he feels utterly disgusting.
lando goes home, scrubs his skin red, and then does it again. he doesn’t go to sleep, watches from his balcony as the sun begins to rise over the sea. he hikes to the highest point he can reach in monaco, where it’s quiet and there’s no one to judge him, or worse, sympathise with him.
he stands at the edge of the cliff. screams once, twice. he sits on a rock, and lets himself cry.
the deflation of our dreaming
leaving me bereft and reeling
my beloved ghost and me
sitting in a tree
d-y-i-n-g
-
your stylist is plying you with options.
you can wear the denim with the cream OR you could do the red and white? or we can go full glam! or! or! or! we could-
you drown her out. you don’t give a fuck. not a single one.
what you wear to the monaco grand prix is quite literally the least of the your problems. your biggest problem, of course, is that you have to go to the fucking thing.
visibility is important, get people talking! the words of your manager ring in your ears until you have a dull migraine brewing behind your ears.
you leave the fitting not entirely sure what you’re wearing, but your stylist will be sending the clothes over so you can pack.
when you land in all too familiar nice, there are cameras. when you get to the hotel in monaco, you and lando are already trending on twitter. well, at least he knows you’re coming. when you’re getting your makeup done before your first event, you get a text.
i’ll try and keep my distance.
try.
try is such an interesting word. the fact that he has to try to stay away makes your belly flutter with embarrassing, self loathing butterflies. don’t try too hard, you want to respond. you don’t.
should’ve told you i’d be here you shoot back.
you think i didn’t already know?
of course he knew. he’d probably asked god knows how many brands to invite you. you try and feign an illness but your team drag you kicking and screaming to the event.
-
there are no two ways about it: you’re drunk, on a tuesday night, somewhere in the principality. a few cocktails with a jewellery brand turned into a night on the town, bar hopping with people you hardly knew and barely recognised.
you’re shaking your ass in jimmy’z, pretending to have fun when you see him.
lando stands at the bar, watching you, jaw tensed, eyes solemn. you exit the club faster that his car down a back straight, stumbling into the smoking area. you bum a cigarette from a guy who tries really hard to convince you that he’s the son of a british lord, and sink into the corner, ignoring the people recording you.
depressed model shame smokes outside monaco club because she is fucking pathetic, the headlines will read.
“thought you quit that shit.” his voice washes over your body like you’ve been set on fire, smooth tone, ambiguous accent making you ache.
“i did but then i got forced to come to monaco, so.” you shrug.
“forced?”
“‘m here for work.” you sigh.
“i guess i am too.” he mumbles. you raise an eyebrow.
“you live here, lan.” you tease. lan rolls off of your tongue too sweetly.
“doesn’t feel like it anymore.”
how can it, without you? he wants to scream at you. he can’t, you don’t deserve it.
“how are you?”
you want to touch him.
“shit.”
he needs a taste.
“yeah.”
you put your cigarette out. it tastes like shit, half smoked.
you stand there, stare at each other.
take me home, you want to beg.
come home, he clenches his fists, trying not to grab you and remind you how you’ll always be his, right here, up against the side of the club.
“good luck, if i don’t see you.” you whisper. you linger, praying that he’ll beg you to stay so that you can crumble into his arms, without having to make the first move.
lando ponders his options. his head and his heart wage a war.
logic wins, unfortunately.
“thank you.”
you take that as your queue to get the fuck out of there, and disappear into the night.
-
it’s raining on sunday. the dreary weather seems to perfectly sum up what has been the worst week of your life.
you’ve seen your ex boyfriend more times than you can count, ended up with about four hangovers as a result, and with a pounding head, you have to sit in the paddock club and wait for the sound of engines to split your head in half. it was your own doing, so you’d suck it up, recognising that you were a disgustingly privileged bitch, and there are people who would sell their kidneys to do what you’re complaining about.
you never complain, not usually. but your heart hurts and your body hearts and your mind hurts and it’s just not fair. lando is gorgeous, and you miss him so badly, and your shoes are digging in. who the fuck thinks it’s a good idea to wear heels to an f1 race?
you see him before the race, mouth good luck from afar. he winks. it’s something you used to do before every race. old habits die screaming.
the rain falls harder, the track slick. you say a prayer and take your seat.
“norris has this in the bag, he’s bloody good in the wet.” you hear some old guy say behind you. you are cursed with the knowledge of just how good in the wet he is, and you end up flushed.
he wins. his second one in three races. you pray that no one notices the way you weep. everyone notices.
you make a mistake and rush for the podium, your pass giving you access. he graces the top step and you sob, grinning like a fool, soaked through with rain. the anthem plays, the champagne pops. he finds your eyes in the crowd. your hair falls, stringy and curled, mascara smudged. you are the most breathtaking sight. he stands still, washed with an onslaught of champagne, watching you like he’s scared to take his eyes off of you. his boyish grin and hopeful eyes render you weak - you’re there for him, after all - and he can’t help but bask in that little fact.
dangerous territory. you break, and disappear.
-
say it once again with feeling…
the photographers barely get a second to snap a picture of the top three, because lando is gone. he takes the stairs two at a time, descending from the podium and throwing his pirelli cap and a shaky apology at his pr rep. the adrenaline spike makes his blood rush; he needs to find you and stop you and tell you that he will never be able to stop loving you.
the exit is the natural assumption, and he nearly slips a thousand times as he sprints through the paddock. the ground is wet, but he figures that if his car made it, so can he. the gates are in sight, and so are you, your clothes sticking to your shivering frame.
he calls your name, thunderously travelling towards you, his voice hitting your ears like a sonic boom. you freeze, turn slowly until your facing him. the rain splashes around you, not letting up.
you’re within his reach, and he pulls you in, hugging you tight. you melt into him, clinging like he’s a life force. he inhales you, your scent that he’s missed so horrifically. you crumble, and so does he, pieced back together as one.
“i can’t do this, i can’t.” he kisses the words into the cold skin of your neck.
“no, neither can i.” you choke wetly with emotion.
“miss you too much. it’s too hard, it’s stupid, it’s-“
“wrong. it’s wrong. ‘m sorry.” your breath fans his face, breathing life into him, life that he’d lost four months ago.
he grabs your shoulders, lowering so that his eyes are level with yours. his curls fall over his eyes, sodden from the rain.
“i don’t think, no, i know: i’m never gonna love anyone the way i love you.” lando speaks slow, convincing. your chest is tight.
“i don’t want to love anyone else.” you croak, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe.
“come back to me.” he mutters, pleading.
“don’t think i ever left.” you breathe, hushed.
your lips slot over his easily, it’s like breathing. the kiss is messy, helpless, and he engulfs you whole, his body wrapping around yours like a blanket. you latch onto his race-suit, drawing him in, and then you both seem to remember where you are.
lando norris caught kissing ex like horny teenager in monaco paddock!
you pull away with breathless chuckle. the air is fresh, and you feel alive. he steals another peck.
“wait for me at home. i’ll be quick.” his hand finds you ass, just for a second and you scold him playfully.
home.
yeah, home.
“don’t make me wait.” you grin.
his brain short circuits.
“do you still have your key?” he splutters, refocusing.
you scoff. “never took it off the chain.”
-
you pace the apartment, taking in the space. it hasn’t changed, but it’s messier, a visual representation of lando since you left. the pit of your belly swirls with anxiety, anticipation. he’ll be back soon, and he’ll kiss you, make love to you, remind you that you’re home and that it’d be stupid to leave again.
you’re still damp from the rain, shedding layers until you’re left in your vest and jeans, ridiculous heels kicked off by the door, your jacket airing over the back of a chair.
he hasn’t taken down the pictures of you together. he hasn’t moved your ugly collection of magnets from the fridge. he hasn’t changed the blinds that you chose, but he didn’t really like. your candles sit on the bookshelf half burned, the teddy he’d won you at a fair sits neatly on the sofa. the L pendant and it’s chain is strewn over the coffee table, right where you left it the morning after it ended. your breathing is heavy.
the front door opens behind you.
you don’t move, your eyes still fixed on the silver chain, overwhelmed by how empty your neck feels all of the sudden. he comes up behind you, his head resting on your shoulder, arms finding home around your waist. you often used to find yourselves in this exact position; while you brushed your teeth, made coffee. the room is deathly silent, breathing and the distant buzz of post race festivities the only thing you can hear. lando follows your gaze.
“kept it. knew that one day, you’d come back for it.”
“i came back for you.”
“and that necklace will stay with you when i can’t be there.”
you nod. he kisses your neck.
“missed you so bad.” you gasp. he licks your skin, bites down softly.
you spin in his arms, his hands pawing at your hips and everything blurs when he kisses you.
-
shaky fingers work over zippers, buttons, clasps, and then you’re both bare. you sink into the mattress that you missed so much, his body moulded with yours when you both tumble into the sheets. this is messy and frantic, utterly lovestruck. the lightning strike of his touch has you keening, sweating beneath him already.
“missed you. missed this.”
“do something, lan.” you cry, quiet against his shoulder.
“missed my perfect girl.” he grunts, lips working your chest while his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps over your inner thigh.
“please.” you sigh when his fingers dip between your folds, sliding over your wet flesh. his lip catches between his teeth, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of you.
he thumbs at your clit, stroking over you in slow, firm swipes, and then he’s sinking a digit into you, slow and steady. your toes curl, tears pricking your eyes at the intrusion, but you don’t have much of a chance to adjust, a second finger joining the first. he fucks you full, the stretch of just two fingers making you whine, one hand threading into the sheets while the other slams over your mouth. you want to hide, the pleasure rendering you a mess across the pale grey linen.
“no, let me look at you.” lando rasps, spare hand tugging at your wrist. you whine, writhing when he curls his fingers. “why are you hiding?”
you can’t hold back the choked cry that sounds from the back of your throat, his palm bumping your clit as he grinds his fingers deep.
“gone shy on me, baby? where’s my good girl gone?” lando coos, moving so that he’s leaning over you. the angle change sends your legs flying, kicking out at the sweet torture. “‘s because you haven’t been fucked right in so long, hm? can’t remember how to behave?” he’s smirking down at you, scanning the changing lines of your face.
“need it, need-“ you stutter, the words dying on your tongue.
“words, pretty girl, words.” lando encourages, false sympathy dripping from his tongue.
“need to cum, want you to make me…” you trail off.
“was that so hard?” he tuts, and everything speeds up.
the sound of him working you so sweetly makes you shake, your thighs clenching tight around his hand. the wet squelch hits your ears and you blush, cheeks coloured deep with embarrassment, awe, desperation.
your mouth drops open, screaming silently when it hits, your thighs slick. you drip down his wrist, his hand covered in your release.
“there’s my girl.” lando sighs, diving down to kiss you hard.
you can feel the damp press of his fingers as they dig into your thighs and you squirm beneath him, finding your way into his mouth.
“fuck me.” you slur, teeth knocking with his. he swallows you whole, groaning into your mouth.
“not so shy now, hm? been dreaming of hearing you beg for it.” lando shudders, shifting between your legs.
you can feel the press of him, thick against your cunt and you wiggle your hips, pushing to meet him halfway. the stretch burns deliciously, and you grab at his shoulders, dragging him in.
“fuck, baby.” he breathes, sinking into you slowly. “feel like heaven.” disbelief coats his voice, like he can’t reconcile that this is real; you’re back here, his, in the bed you were always supposed to share.
“it’s so good. feel so good for me, lan.” you whisper, lacing your fingers through his hair.
“love you so much.” he kisses you like he means it, rocking into you with purpose.
“can’t believe i lived without this.”
“can’t believe you’re all mine.”
the release builds, every thrust reminding you of what you could have lost for good. there was no lack of love, in fact you were starting to wonder if you had loved each other too much before.
“never losing you again. can’t live without you. my beautiful girl.”
your tummy grows tight, and he finds your clit when he feels you clamp down on him. he pulls you through the pleasure, guides you to your orgasm and you blindly follow him. you’d follow him anywhere, you decide.
you tell him you love him when you let go, spilling all around him, warm. he’s panting, kisses your forehead gently. he rolls off of you, and you feel the slow drip instantly, but you curl into his side and he wraps around you.
home.
“promise me something.” he whispers. you feel the way he shakily inhales.
“hm?”
“don’t leave again. you belong here, too. with me.”
your eyes are watery.
“i’m staying. ‘m yours.”
“about that…”
lando springs from the bed, naked, disappearing from the room. you watch, confused, cold all of the sudden.
you can hear his footsteps padding through the hallway, and then he’s back, his figure in the hallway. he runs, jumps, lands gracelessly next to you. endeared, you laugh softly.
“sit up.”
you do, leaning up to sit next to him. his fingers skim your shoulder, pushing your hair out of the way. cool metal dances over your skin.
“back where it belongs.” lando smiles at you, eyes wide and stunning.
you toy with the L. something heals in your chest, right around where your heart is.
“the sweetest boy.” you shake your head in disbelief, grin up at him like a fool.
“bath?”
“you know me so well, noz.”
come one, come all
it’s happening again
-
oh, my heart. there is something deeply wrong with me
-
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iholdwhatican · 21 days
Text
reunions
pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig
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length: 3.8k
tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; surprise visit from patrick ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension
summary: you want to make your husband's birthday special, so you invite his attractive, charming, estranged childhood best friend in the hopes that they'll make amends. surely nothing will go wrong, right?
author's note: i can't stop thinking about them i am so ill. this is the first of presumably many challengers works. and yes i did make a new blog just for this, don't judge me. this is a drabble that was stuck in my head but I do have more for it should it be wanted! preferably something that leaves you sandwiched in between them :3
originally posted by iholdwhatican
You told yourself this whole thing happened out of the goodness of your heart. You’d just wanted to be a good wife and make your husband’s birthday the best it could possibly be. Because Art Donaldson was the most amazing person you’d ever known, and he loved you, and he deserved the world. There was nothing off limits when it came to him, no line you wouldn’t cross. 
You knew how much Patrick had meant to him, how much he missed his best friend. Your cheeks hurt from how wide the stories made you smile, how happy he sounded when he recounted the things he’d gotten into with the eccentric tennis player. And you knew how sad Art was that they didn’t talk anymore. 
So what better time to remedy that than for his birthday? That was a wonderful surprise, right? Right?
Upon meeting Patrick Zweig, your first thought was how the hell this man got along so well with your Art. Not to say he was a bad person, but he was just so… much. He was cocky, indomitable, the kind of person that knew what he wanted and what he was worth and wouldn’t settle for anything less. He was a force not to be reckoned with, no matter what. He was also unbelievably charming (and not bad on the eyes, which you would never admit), and you hated the way his sweet-talking got under your skin. 
He asked you how Art was. You told him he was fine. Retired, now. Making the most of a quiet life. You’d just celebrated 3 years of married life. He asked to see wedding photos and you didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes at missing the event. You happily obliged. It was the most romantic day of your life, after all. 
And you couldn’t help but internally pat yourself on the back. Patrick missed him too. You could mend the broken bridge between them, and your husband would be thrilled. He’d reward you for your good work. 
You asked Patrick to come to Art’s party. To make contact again. To come back into his world. He only hesitated for a moment, asked if Art knew and was okay with it. 
The lie slipped off your tongue easily. Of course, he’s wanted this for a long time. It’s a surprise, but a most welcome one. You didn’t have details on what happened between them- only knew of a falling out while Art was in college- but it couldn’t be that bad. Anything could be overcome, right? 
Patrick accepted and you hoped the lump in your throat was from excitement and not dread. You thanked him for meeting you, told him you’d forward him the details, and went back to your husband. 
The day of the party came, and you were so nervous you could hardly take it. You’d spent the last couple of days working yourself into a frenzy, convinced that this reunion was a terrible idea and your husband would hate you. You had no right to bring an estranged friend back into his life, on his birthday no less. And without saying a word to him. 
God, what the hell was wrong with you? 
You gripped the edge of the kitchen counter and downed your third glass of water. It did nothing to soothe the dryness in your throat. Or the pounding of your heart. You wondered how fucked you’d be at the party if you took a Xanax right now. Or five. 
Just then, Art peeked his head into the kitchen, donning a sweet smile when he spotted you. He looked as handsome as ever, sporting a well-fitting polo shirt and khakis. His hair was growing out again, starting to show those boyish curls you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. He made his way over to you, wedding band sparkling on his finger, and your heart melted. 
You loved him so much. Had you ruined his birthday with your stupid meddling? Maybe even ruined your marriage? 
“Hey, beautiful.” He greeted, sliding a hand around your waist and kissing your head. It was a familiar gesture, a normal one. He loved touching you, keeping you close. You loved it just as much, “The cake was just delivered. You went way overboard, as usual.” 
You pretended you weren’t overcome with dread and cupped his cheek, “Shut up. There’s no such thing as overboard. You deserve this, okay? You deserve to be celebrated.” 
Please, please don’t be mad at me for inviting him. For bringing him into our world. Please still love me. I did it for you. I’d do anything for you.
His eyes crinkled as he smiled- in that perfect way you adored so much. He leaned down to kiss you again, this time on your lips. It was gentle and caring and everything you were to each other. It made you want to cry. Art was everything. All you wanted was to give him the same. 
The doorbell rang, breaking you two out of the moment, and your husband pulled away. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“Well,” He spoke, looking at you like there was nothing else in the world, “That must be our first guest.” 
You hummed happily, “Guess it’s time to celebrate you, Birthday Boy. Shall we?” 
“We shall.” He teased, doing a mock bow as he offered you his hand. You took it, laughing, and the two of you made your way to the front door. 
You took a deep breath and tried not to focus on the unhappy way your stomach was churning. 
The first hour of the party went by with a pleasant lack of reunions-turned-altercations. Patrick had yet to show his face, and you wondered if he might not come at all. Part of you was relieved at the idea, while the other couldn’t help but be frustrated. 
He said he would come. What if the surprise didn’t end up being a bad thing? How would you know if he never showed? 
God, you needed a cigarette. 
You’d spent the entirety of the party so far glued to Art’s side, being his doting wife as you made conversation with everyone. Your eyes continued to stray to the door, looking for a certain dark-haired man. Every single time, you were disappointed. Disappointed, yes, but not surprised. From what you’d heard, Patrick wasn’t really someone who could be counted on a lot. 
Maybe this whole thing was just a big mistake. And maybe the part of you that truly felt let down at not getting to see him again was something you should never, never look into. 
You patted Art’s chest and stood on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “I’m gonna check on the food. I’ll be back.” 
He nodded, smiled, and pressed a kiss to your temple. His arm released its grip on you and he continued his conversation with an old Stanford buddy without missing a beat. He was fucking incredible. At everything. You were crazy about him. 
The food didn’t actually need to be checked on. The caterer was high-quality, and they knew better than to fuck up one of your events for your husband. You had full trust in them- you honestly just needed a breather. This whole night had felt like a cold fist clenched around your heart. 
Instead, you grabbed yourself a large glass of wine and made your way to the patio to enjoy some cool night air. 
The area was blessedly empty, allowing you to slip out of the hostess facade. You were more than happy to do it, especially when celebrating Art, but the circumstances tonight were making it much harder than usual. Which was, of course, entirely your own fault. Way to go, you! Knocked it out of the park tonight, didn’t you? 
You sighed, leaned against the railing, and took a long gulp of your drink. The weather was slightly chilly, and it felt amazing against your heated skin. Already, you were finding it easier to breathe. And think, for that matter. 
“Shouldn’t you be at the party, Mrs. Donaldson?” A familiar, spine-tingling voice spoke, breaking you out of your peaceful moment. 
You whirled around, eyes landing on Patrick fucking Zweig leaning against the wall of your house. A lit cigarette hung from his lips, his hands nonchalantly tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans. They went well with the button-up shirt he wore, a stark contrast from the shorts and hoodie he’d had on when you first met. He looked good- really good. Enough to make a pit grow in your stomach. 
“I thought you weren’t coming.” You blurted out, thankful that the darkness was shrouding your red face. His face was just barely illuminated by the orange glow of the cigarette, and you watched as he looked you up and down, “Also, how’d you get back here? I didn’t see you walk into the house.” 
Patrick kicked off the wall and walked over to you, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth. His curls fell over his forehead, and you found yourself fighting the urge to brush them out of the way- the same way you always did to Art. You swallowed deeply. What the hell was wrong with you? 
“I told you I’d come, didn’t I?” He responded matter-of-factly, blowing a puff of smoke into the air. The smell made you nostalgic. You and Art had made a pact years ago to quit together, but God did you miss it sometimes. You licked your lips and tried (and failed) not to stare, “I snuck in through the back. Thought it’d be less messy that way.” 
You had no idea how he’d been able to get back here, but you decided you weren’t gonna ask. It didn’t matter in the long run, anyway. Besides, he was probably right. You had no idea how Art was gonna react, and it was smart to have it happen in an isolated area. 
“Probably smart.” You muttered, taking another swig of the wine. The feeling of his eyes stayed on you, burning into your skin, but you didn’t meet his gaze. You didn’t want to think too hard on why. 
“He doesn’t know you reached out to me.” It wasn’t a question, but you responded to Patrick’s words regardless. He’d find out eventually. 
“No.” The admittance came out with a heavy breath, like you were releasing the weight that had been on you all night. In a way, you were. You ran a hand over your forehead, “I don’t know what happened between you two, he doesn’t talk about it. But I just- I’m terrified he’ll hate me for bringing you.” 
Why the hell were you pouring your heart out to this stranger? What was it about him that drew you in so much and made you want to bring down your walls? How was this charming man already under your skin from one damn meeting? And how the fuck were you supposed to explain any of this to your husband, his estranged best friend? 
You needed another drink. Or ten. 
“You really love him.” Again, not a question. But you answered. You had to. 
“More than anything else in this world.” 
Patrick offered you his half-smoked cigarette and you took it without thinking. The sting of the smoke in your lungs was like coming home. It was so good it almost made you cry. But lots of things made you want to cry right now. You could taste mint on the cigarette, like he’d been chewing gum before lighting up. The same kind Art always chewed. 
It made something flip in your stomach. 
“Well, from what I can tell, you’re pretty great. Super caring, based on how far you went in an attempt to make him happy. Shit, you tracked me down, which is a feat in itself. And you’re gorgeous, obviously. I’m surmising that you’re basically the whole package.” He spoke calmly, as if every one of those words didn’t make your heart jump into your throat. You chugged your drink to use it as an excuse for your rosy cheeks, “So I don’t think there’s any way he could hate you. Even for inviting me here.” 
You were speechless for five long seconds as he took the cigarette back and inhaled. Then you finally got your brain to stop lagging, “You don’t even know me.” 
“I know enough.” He countered, continuing the pass back and forth of the cigarette, “And I know Art. He wouldn’t marry someone beneath him. The fucker somehow always gets the ones way out of his league.” 
You didn’t comment, but you knew what Patrick was referring to. Tashi Duncan. The now pro-tennis player that he’d had a thing with back in the day. You didn’t know the details, but you knew she was a point of contention between the two men. 
Honestly, you tried not to think about Tashi. She was gorgeous, super talented, and an overall seemingly great person. Art had passed up on that for you, and it got to your head a lot. You wondered if he regretted it. Or at least wondered what his life could’ve been like. 
You didn’t think you were out of his league. In fact, you thought the opposite. Not that you needed to tell Patrick that. Your insecurity and jealousy issues could stay yours alone. 
“Well, I don’t know about that.” You murmured.
The cigarette began to dim as you took the last drag, flicking it off the balcony and down into the grass below. With both the alcohol and nicotine gone, you started to think you probably needed to get back to the party. Your husband would be looking for you, and you didn’t want to keep him waiting. You just had to figure out how Patrick would fit into the equation. 
“If you weren’t taken, I’d be trying to charm the fuck out of you right now.” 
The statement caught you completely off guard. You looked over at him, eyes wide, and tried to keep your cool at the sexy smirk on his face. God, he was so fucking attractive. 
You blinked once, twice, a third time, “What?” 
His smile grew at your flustered state, “I have great taste in women, and I’d flirt with you if I could. So I’m saying you’re definitely a catch. And totally out of Art’s league.” 
You licked your lips. Subconsciously, “I’m pretty sure that was flirting.” 
“Was it?” He didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed, “Oops.” 
You ran your finger over the rim of your wine glass, trying to think of something to say. You came up empty. You were married- to this man’s childhood best friend. To the love of your life. He shouldn’t be flirting with you. And you definitely shouldn’t be enjoying it. 
“There you are! I was starting to worry.” Art’s voice broke the tense silence, and you turned around to watch him making his way to you with a smile. Then he spotted Patrick and his smile dropped as his face filled with recognition, “You- what the hell are you doing here?” 
You opened your mouth to speak, to explain and mediate the situation, but the dark-haired man beat you to it. 
“Your pretty little wife invited me.” He said, which was probably the worst thing he probably could’ve chosen. You internally buried your face in your hands. 
Art’s jaw clenched and his eyes lit up. It took you a moment to realize that the expression was anger. Honestly, it took you by surprise. It was extremely rare to see him angry, and never was it directed at you. And though he was looking at Patrick, you were terrified that in this instance it was. 
“Let me explain.” You immediately choked out, clutching your empty wine glass like a lifeline, “I really just thought that-” 
“She thought you missed me and wanted us to reconnect. As a birthday surprise. Isn’t that sweet?” Patrick butted in, throwing an arm over your shoulders. Art looked ready to murder someone (probably the tennis player holding you), “I doubt it was easy contacting me, but she managed. All for you.” 
You laughed nervously, ducking your head, “Well, that’s not-” 
“Let go of her.” Art demanded. His voice was cold and dangerous. Possessive. It made something twitch in your core. Oh, you liked that. 
The brunette didn’t hesitate to do as he was told, holding his hands up in surrender, “My bad, man. I just feel like we’re already such close friends from hanging out together. Don’t you think so?” 
The last part was directed at you, and Patrick nudged you. You gave him an incredulous look. 
The charming, sweet man you’d just been talking to was gone. He was replaced by a cocky, near-disrespectful antagonist who was trying to egg your husband into some kind of altercation. And he was using you as the bait. 
You couldn’t lie that you were frustrated, but it did feel a bit nice to be in an almost tug-of-war between the two men. You liked being an object of affection or desire. 
“You should head inside, baby.” Art spoke to you, though his furious gaze never left Patrick, “Our guests will wonder where the hosts went. I’m gonna talk to Patrick for a minute.” 
You’d be damned if you told him no. Even though this situation felt like a mess that was definitely all your fault. Damn you for inviting Patrick. Damn him for being so captivating. And damn Art for loving you so much that the sight of another man touching you made him see red. This entire thing was like a whirlwind. 
“Okay…” You whispered, moving towards your husband and the house. You gave Patrick a small smile, hoping to convey your thoughts to him. Please don’t hurt him- he’s my world. Then you stopped at Art’s side and placed a hand on his bicep, “I’m sorry if this was a bad idea. I just wanted to make your birthday special, is all. I didn’t mean to fuck it up.” 
He finally looked at you, just long enough to give you a loving smile and a shake of his head, “You didn’t ruin anything. I’m so proud of you for doing all this for me. Don’t worry.” 
Then he kissed you, only to stop and pull away, “Is that- were you smoking with Patrick?” 
You sucked on your teeth and nodded, “Yes, a little. I’m sorry. I just-” 
But then he was kissing you again, hard and needy. Like he wanted to fuck you right then and there. Your face burned bright red, and you could feel Patrick’s eyes on the two of you. Art had never acted like this in all the time you knew him. But right now, within thirty seconds of being around his old friend, he was putting on a show to prove that you were his. 
You belonged to him. And he wanted Patrick to know it. 
You really, really fucking liked this. 
When he pulled away, you felt dizzy. From both the kiss and the wine you’d downed. You barely had time to take a breath before he was lightly patting your cheek and sending you inside. You managed to take a look at the two men before rejoining the party. They just stared at each other, like they were in a standoff. 
It was unbelievably hot. 
As you went back to your guests, lips still tingling, only one thought was coming to you. 
You wondered how long you could keep Patrick around, just to see what it would do to your precious husband. 
2K notes · View notes
chuluoyi · 4 months
Text
HAPPY MARRIAGE
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- nanami kento x reader
“you don't deserve to be unhappy. and i don’t want to be unhappy, either.” you have always wondered where did you and kento go wrong. in the wake of your divorce, as you both returned to single lives, you and kento would come to realize what constitutes a happy marriage is... and it takes more than just love
genre: post-divorce angst, crack, misunderstandings, arguments, hurt/comfort, bestfriend!gojo is going to help your love life, and fluff in the end!
note: this fic... goes through a major change overnight after i was struck with a wholly different plot *sobs* and then i went through a major writing block for at least a week before i know what words i'm going to write :') anyways, this isn't really proofread so please forgive any typos to the anon who requested this and others, i do hope you'll enjoy it! tagging @tiredkitten as per request <3
listen to: today more than yesterday - kim jong kook
a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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No divorce ever comes easy.
When couples enter into marriage, they do so with the dream of a lifelong bond filled with love and compassion. You too did once. And even until now, you still want that for yourself.
When you married Nanami Kento three years ago, you thought it was for eternity. He was your dream man, the only man you could see yourself with. He embodied everything that was just and righteous, and he was also kind man, who would always put you first, shielding you from any sort of harm.
Even if the source of that ‘harm’ turned out to be himself.
“You don't deserve to be unhappy. and I don’t want to be unhappy, either.”
Strangely, you didn't resent Kento that much, in the end. At that time, both of you had come to terms with it and you couldn't blame anyone. But now, six months later, as you sat in this shabby bar, downing shots of gin with your thoughts swirling in an alcohol-induced haze, your emotions were all over the place, and moreover, the presence of a certain clown before you was just particularly irksome, and you knew that he was someone you could blame—
“Gojo, you prick!”
Gojo raised one righteous eyebrow. "Who, me? Sorry, but I'm not your ex-husband?"
Gojo Satoru was the witness to several milestone in your life. Insufferable as he was, somehow you clicked with him ever since your early days as a jujutsu sorcerer. You remembered sending him your handpicked wedding invitation, having him celebrating your promotions, and then coming to him with tears running down your face in the middle of the night, telling him, “We are getting a divorce.”
"You!" you snapped, slamming down your glass of gin, whipping your head around to face the blindfolded idiot that was your longtime friend. Your index finger accusingly aimed at him. "This is all your fault!"
"Wha—"
"Because of you!"
"Okay, now it's clear that you're just too far gone—"
You hiccupped, your tone laced with fiery emotion. "If it weren't for you—if you hadn't been so adamant about setting us up back then—!"
Gojo grimaced. Ah, so this was the so-called drunken musings. While it was amusing to see his friend of 7 years in this state, even he couldn't deny how a tad bit pitiful you were.
"...then maybe," you started to deflate, eyes watering and lips trembling, sniffling. "I-I won't have to go through this..."
Correction, you were so pitiful you had no idea. But still, as a longtime associate, he couldn't bring himself to abandon you there, wallowing in your sorrows all alone.
He sighed and patted your back. "There, there... what about I introduce you to other guys, hmm? See if it'll lessen the pain away?"
You shot him a look so hateful despite your bleary vision. "No! Last time you did, it ended in a divorce for me! I refuse to let you turn me into a two-time divorcee!"
"I'm pretty sure your marriage is far from my business, I'm just your kind-hearted, handsome broker—"
"Bah! You— tasteless prick!"
You burped loudly afterwards and Gojo winced, and then you suddenly (and theatrically, he might add) slumped face-down onto the table with a thud, passed out in all your drunken glory.
And Gojo could only stare at you in somewhat disbelief.
. . .
He thought then, that you were definitely going to owe him one after this.
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More often than not, throughout the past six months, Nanami also found himself thinking about you too.
Despite his calm exterior, separation with you didn't come easy for him. There was a reason he married you in the first place—he had loved you, and he too wanted it to last. You used to be the reason he went home on time each and everyday, the reason he eagerly anticipated spending his weekends with.
Everything had fallen apart before either of you realized it. Some disagreements suddenly spiraled into lonely nights, no updates during longer missions, your tears, and then ended with both of you filing the papers in the city hall to end it all.
Six months ago, he thought he was final with his decision. He thought it was the best as he was faced with the sight of your tear-streaked face.
“Kento, I’m not asking m-much, am I?” you asked between sobs, wiping your tears harshly. “Aren’t w-we family? Shouldn’t we be doing a lot of things—together?”
Recalling that moment now, it tugged at his heartstrings anew. Yet, despite everything...
“I’m telling you, I know my limits—”
“Is that all you have to say? Don’t you know how sick with worry I am?” you ended up shouting at him, voice quivering. “Put yourself in my shoes and think: how can I possibly sleep at night, constantly fearing that my husband might—” your voice broke, fresh tears flowing freely. “—might not come back?!”
He was the one who backed away first, who made you lose all hope, and ultimately, placed the sentence upon you.
“If you don't have it in you to... then, perhaps it's for the best that we... just get a divorce.”
"Nanami-san, you okay?"
He looked up from the sizzling barbeque grill pan to his junior, Ino Takuma, who looked concerned as he flipped the meat. "You have been staring into space for a while..."
"I'm fine, Ino-kun." He looked down and grabbed the tongs, flipping his side of beef.
Ino let out a sympathetic sigh. "Honestly, lately, you seem down."
Words he was holding back were "ever since your divorce", but Ino was pretty sure his senior understood the implicaton.
Nanami hummed. "Sometimes life just doesn't go as swimmingly... I'm fine."
Ino never really knew you that well and was curious. In fact, he was so very curious. When it comes to Nanami Kento, everything he does and has done is always with justified and sound reason, but he might be biased because the 7:3 sorcerer was his role model.
It might verge on invading his privacy, but—
"They said... Gojo-san was your matchmaker back then?" he went through with the question anyway, testing the waters. "I don't mean to pry, but I just thought it's cute."
To Ino's surprise, Nanami's lips curled into a small smile. "It's fine, Ino-kun. I think it has become common knowledge by now. Yeah... he was."
"For you to have fallen for someone who was Gojo's acquaintance... it speaks volumes about how charming Y/N is."
"Mmm," he nodded slightly as he indulged in the grilled meat. "She is."
"Nanami-san." Okay, Ino was starting to think that he wouldn't be getting his point across if he went the roundabout way. He would shoot it straight then. "I don't mean to patronize you... but if you're really that miserable, then I think you should go back to her and talk things out, no?"
Nanami put down his chopsticks and let out a soft sigh, making Ino to immediately regret his blatant suggestion.
"Before arriving at such a difficult decision, of course we did try to discuss some things," he explained, his gaze meeting his calmly. "I don't take matters like divorce lightly, Ino-kun."
"But still... now—"
To drove the point home, Nanami chose to vocalize the conclusion that still left a bitter taste in his mouth to this day:
"She is unhappy with the way things are, and I have to come to terms with the fact that I can't provide what she needs."
Ino's gaze fell in dejection. "Nanami-san..."
Nanami chuckled fondly. “I appreciate your concern, Ino-kun. Thank you.”
In front of his junior, he could maintain composure and narrated the collapse of his own marriage as if he were a mere spectator. But in his heart of hearts, Nanami Kento wasn’t at all the stoic man he made everyone believed he was—the fact that he had failed to give you the life of happiness he promised on the day he proposed to you still stung him to this day.
It hurt him, but echoing your words, he couldn't subject you to a marriage that felt like a dull cohabitation with little understanding.
“We never really talk anymore, do we...? We never really work on our problems too. Kento, lately, I feel like... things have changed.”
Suppose what he had to do was letting you go now.
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It was easier said than done, because when Nanami saw you the next day at the school—this being the first time in several weeks—he almost couldn’t keep his cool.
"Ichiji, don't be too stiff!" you slapped the poor guy in the back with a giggle. "It's just me, it's been a while!"
You didn't look much different than the last he saw you—still the chirpy self he unwittingly fell in love with, staying on top of the latest fashion trends and all. Yet, there was definitely something different about you, something he just couldn't quite identify...
And then those cheerfulness deflated when your gaze met his, eyes widening as you tried to get your bearings. "Oh—h-hi, Kento."
That's too forced. It was so unnatural that made him almost wince.
"Hello." But the tremble in his voice, too, betrayed him. "Have you been well?"
You shifted your gaze away from him, and right before you answered, you let out a cough, and that was when he spotted it: you looked kind of pale.
"I'm fine."
"Oh, that's good then."
Silence. This was the absolute worst.
Nanami exhaled. It was you he was talking to, his ex-wife. He knew you inside out—or at least, he used to. He knew you didn't like this dryness as much as he did. He had to say something.
He braved himself. "Are you here for a mission?"
You looked at him in slight surprise. "Oh... yeah."
Darn it. Another dry reply.
"There... is a cursed totem in North Tokyo," you elaborated, not really looking at him. "Gojo's out from tomorrow until next week. I'm substituting for him to assist the first years."
"Are you sure you're up for that?" Nanami found himself asking before he could stop. "I mean no disrespect, but you look a bit pale."
"I am," you snapped, leaving him surprised. It was as though he had unintentionally struck a nerve, quickly turning your mood sour. "I'm fully capable of handling this, Kento."
"Please, I don't mean to upset you. I'm just..."
Worried about you. Somehow his throat closed in, it didn't really feel right to say that now.
"—I know how rash you can be." He regretted his words as soon as they were out.
It was clearly a bad choice of words as you took offense, your expression quickly turned into one of disdain.
"How rich... that it's coming from you," you scowled.
Memories of your failed marriage flooded your mind's eye. The long nights your ex-husband didn't bother to leave you a message. How he would return home with wounds and blood staining his clothes. And now... he had the nerve to insinuate that you were the reckless one?
"I can take care of myse—"
"That's a whole load of bullshit!"
Good grief. Why must Gojo pick this exact scene to show up?
The blindfold took big strides and halted between the two of you, pointing one finger in your face.
“Last night, she got wasted. Like totally wasted! She could barely walk straight afterwards and then she had the audacity to blame me! Me! For all her mess! Goodness, I’m just a very chivalrous friend and yet—”
"Shut up!" you were horrified, face flushed with embarrassment. "Gojo, you complete jerk!"
Nanami wouldn't admit it, but there was always something between you and Gojo Satoru that made him a bit uncomfortable, even way back when the two of you were still married. Perhaps the closeness, the candidness you shared. He knew you wouldn't harbor anything for someone as elusive as Gojo Satoru, but still, it remained an uncomfortable sight for him.
Like there was nothing pleasant about knowing Gojo Satoru was the one taking care of you in your drunken stupor. You shouldn't have in the first place. If it were him, he wouldn't let you hurt yourself. If he were still the one by your side—
Despite himself, thoughts like that swirled in his mind far often than he would've liked.
Suddenly, the air felt stifling. Nanami didn't like this at all, and even as you two were still harmlessly bickering, he chose to leave.
"Oiii, Nanami!"
He had barely left the room when the person he disliked the most emerged from the door, following closely behind him. Gojo evidently knew what his thoughts were. As irritating as he was, the bloke was smart, he wasn't the strongest for nothing.
"Na-na-mi! You can't just leave like that! We're going to have lunch together—"
"Gojo-san," Nanami stopped in his tracks and let out an exasperated sigh, throwing the white-haired idiot a glare so hard it would curse him if only glares could. "Please stop bothering me."
“How cold-hearted,” the blindfold replied in a mocking scoff. “No matter how, she was once your wife. How could you not care one bit?”
“We have gone on our separate ways, and if she is good with the way things are, then so am I.”
What a lie. He still couldn't help but to care. If you ever needed his help in whatever way even now, he would still move heavens for you.
“And that’s where you’re wrong, Nanami,” Gojo suddenly interjected in a less playful manner. “She is really missing you, you know.”
But you had your best friend by your side, didn't you? Someone perfect, without equal. Surely, you wouldn't need him anymore.
Gojo raised an eyebrow. "How are you so sure that she's good with the way things are?"
"What exactly is she not good with?"
"Everything? You never ask her."
This was getting irritating, and before Nanami really lost control over himself, he finally drew a line.
"Gojo-san, I'm tired of people assuming things about our current relationship," he said, leveling a piercing look at him. "We are both adults. We reached the decision to separate because we both know why. If this is your way of showing concern, then thank you—but I'd prefer if you didn't interfere any further. We're handling this just fine, and by all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore."
With that, he left. Even when he wanted to stay longer with you, even when, in his wildest dreams, he wanted to rebuild everything with you again—
He knew you were there, hearing all of this.
Gojo clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. "Grr... You're so stubborn..."
. . .
There was a reason why you went to the school. Yaga's sudden request and of course, the chance to see Nanami again.
But when your conversation ended in a bitter note and he walked away, a part of you plunged into instant panic, compelling you to eavesdrop on his conversation with Gojo.
But as expected from you cool ex-husband, he was all rationale and logic.
By all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore.
Nanami would think so, wouldn't he? And he wouldn't be bothered either.
You shouldn't have expected more. This was no television drama in which the couple would get back together that easily. You were living in the harsh reality of jujutsu world, which basically, was the cause of your divorce in the first place.
At one point, you found it all to be exhausting, but upon reflection, it was more painful to acknowledge that he never truly fought to keep you by his side.
Tears welled up in your eyes unbidden, and you walked away quickly, brushing them away.
This is it. There is no use hoping anymore.
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If you weren't on missions, then you'd likely be drinking. This had been the undeniable truth over the past few weeks.
Gojo found both you and Nanami to be irritating. The way both of you would evade each other was just plain stupid by this point, since it was clear to anyone with eyes that you were still not over each other.
"Nanami! Why don't you join us for dinner tonight!"
And since you were such an irritable drunk, he chose to keep poking the easier target.
Nanami shot him a scathing look, definitely done. "I have a prior appointment. Goodbye."
"Hoh?! But! They'll have free drinks!"
For the life of him, Nanami just wanted to go back home. He had minus interest in free drinks and even less in Gojo himself, and he would make his points clear.
"For the last time, I'm telling you, I don't want any part in your—"
Ring! Ring! Ring!
"Ooh, wait a minute, Nanamin! I got a call!"
Nanami gritted his teeth in pure annoyance. He truly didn't care about his call and seized the chance to walk away quickly, eager to flee.
Until—
"Hello? Yes. Yes... what? Huh— Y/N is rushed to hospital?"
...and that caused him to halt abruptly. Suddenly, his entire body went rigid, as if he had been doused with a bucket of cold water.
You're hurt?
"I mean why—the hell? Severe bleeding?!" Gojo's voice dramatically rose, seemingly in surprise. "Whoa, uh, traffic accident?!"
Within seconds, everything as he knew it came to an end. He spun around, yanking the phone from Gojo's grasp, indifferent to whether it caught the latter off guard or not.
"Which hospital is this?" he demanded from the person on the other end, his voice rough and harsh. Suddenly, the fog in his mind dissipated, and he was consumed by panic.
"I'm sorry, sir, that's not—oh, it's Tokyo General Hospital—"
"Thank you." Nanami shoved the phone back to Gojo and broke into a sprint, in search of taxi.
At this moment, everything was a plethora of chaos—his surroundings melded into a blur, the constant honking of nearby vehicles echoed in his ears, and the relentless pounding in his chest threatened to overwhelm him. Nothing else held any significance. Nothing, except you.
Why did you get hurt? How did you even get into a traffic accident?
This was maddening. His world was falling apart hard and fast. The beginnings of heartbreak, stirring and churning in the depths of his stomach, once again threatened to drown him whole—
To others it may seem laughable that he was this shaken over an ex-wife, but precisely because you were his ex-wife was why he was running through the streets of Shibuya, opting not to take the cab as the traffic jam was at its peak.
Oh, how Nanami regretted it. He regretted a multitude of things; those long nights, silent treatments, your tears, divorcing you. If he could turn back the time, he'd do anything in his power to prevent that divorce from ever happening. He'd treasure you better, he'd make time for you more—
Because what if, now you were really slipping away from him for good? What if, he would never see you ever again?
Within minutes, he arrived at the said hospital, haggard, spooking the nurses, demanding your room number.
Thank heavens that the visiting hour wasn't over yet. He marched towards the said room, all of his logic and rationale flying out of window as he threw open the door.
And then he saw the pristine bed, IV drip, and you—
Sitting upright on the bed, turning a page of a magazine, your eyes widening and blinking at him in complete confusion—
Huh, what?
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The last thing you would expect after waking up in the hospital was your ex-husband barging in unannounced, looking as though he'd just survived a whirlwind.
"Kento...?" you almost squeaked, taken aback at the sight.
His hair was a sweaty mess, his usually immaculate suit was crinkled and his tie was loosened, but it was the look in his eyes that grabbed your attention—as if expecting the worst.
“Are you alright?” he grounded out, approaching you in deliberately slow steps. “How long has it since you woke up?”
“Um... yes? Since about an hour or so.” You frowned. “Kento, what are you doing here?”
“They said you have severe bleeding, involved in an accident—”
“What! No! Did the hospital reach out to you?” you felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought. “I was sure I have removed you from my emergency contacts—”
“Gojo did—”
Suddenly, understanding dawned on him, and he cursed under his breath. “That rotten bastard!”
You blinked, unsure of what he meant at all. To his credit, Nanami didn’t dwell long on his thoughts and faced you once again with another fresh batch of confusion. “Wait, Gojo is your emergency contact? Why?”
“Should anything happen to me and a payment is required to settle it, he can handle the bills first?”
If Nanami didn’t look exasperated before then he sure did now. “Y/N… you…”
He released the deepest sigh imaginable before settling onto the sofa, further tousling his hair and removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.
“Did you know I ran to get here because I thought something bad happened to you?” Nanami stated in a strained voice.
Why did your heart skip a beat? Why was Nanami suddenly playing the part of a concerned husband when the time for it has long passed?
Feeling suddenly irritated, you rolled your eyes. “I just passed out due to high blood pressure. It’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal?” his eyes squared on you, quiet anger behind them. “In what sense does you passing out ever ‘not a big deal’? What have you been doing?”
"Why does that even matter to you still?" you contested. "You were the one who said everyone should stop linking us together by now."
"Y/N, you're missing the—"
"You divorced me!" you screamed, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as the urge to cry threatened to consume you. "You... h-have divorced me, Nanami Kento!"
Nanami felt as if a blade had pierced and twisted his chest at the sight of you—your quivering form, the stifled sobs. He had never wished to see you in such despair again.
"So why!" you finally broke down and sobbed. "Why did you play the caring husband now? Why not before? Why do you keep toying with my feelings...?"
"I'm not." Nanami grunted, getting up and approaching your bed. "I never meant to. That was never my intention. I never—"
"Then what!? What are you doing? Why did you throw me out just like that and why now—"
"Believe me when I said that I never want you to be miserable!"
You halted mid-rant, eyes wide as you gazed at him. Blinking, you felt a tear roll down your cheek. It was the first time Nanami had ever raised his voice at you. Even in the past, he never had.
But suddenly, a sharp pain pierced through your abdomen, causing you to instinctively clutch it. You whimpered, a nearly involuntary squeak escaping you, feeling the intense burn inside.
Nanami immediately got a hold of your hunched form, alarmed. "What is it? What hurts?" When all you could manage were pained sniffles in response, he swiftly hit the nurses' button and enveloped you in his embrace.
"Hold on," he comforted, placing a hand over where you clutched your abdomen, trying to offer some relief in any way. "They'll be here soon, don't pass out!"
"Mmngh," you gripped his hand in response, squeezing it as you slumped into his chest. For the first time in six months, you were enveloped in his warmth once again, and despite everything that had transpired, you were deeply moved by his gesture.
It took seeing you in such distress to dispel any doubts Nanami may have had. You were so petite against him, so delicate as you squirmed amidst your tears.
Had you experienced pain like this in the past six months? The thought made his heart lurch. Did no one comfort you at all?
. . .
And that was when he decided it.
He never, ever wants to see you in any sort of pain, ever again. And should it happen, then he'll be the one staying by your side, just like this.
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Alcoholic gastritis. You consumed so much alcohol that it irritated your ulcer and causes a really painful tummy ache.
You could feel Nanami's judging gaze on you as your attending doctor explained your predicament. Truth to be told, you were quite ashamed. Your unhealthy lifestyle were laid bare before your ex-husband and it made you feel like a kid being scolded for misbehaving.
After the doctor left, Nanami sighed and pulled out a chair next to your bed. "Are you feeling better now?"
"Yeah..." you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "Sorry, that... you have to see that."
But thankfully, he was unflappable as ever. "Nothing to be sorry about. It's fine."
You were kind of embarrassed of your outburst earlier too. While you didn't regret expressing your feelings, you pondered if could've done it in a less confrontational way.
At this point, you'd accept anything. Even if Nanami told you off after this—
"Let me continue from what I was saying earlier," he suddenly began, catching your attention. You perked up, and looked at him expectantly.
Nanami released a deep sigh, and the words he spoke next were ones you never thought you'd hear from him again.
"Did you remember what I said when I proposed our divorce?" he asked, somewhat rhetorically. You wordlessly nodded, because it was one of the lines that made you unable to hate him completely.
"I said, you don't deserve to be unhappy." Nanami looked you right in the eyes, undaunted. "And that still stands until now."
Now fully engrossed in his words, the rhythm of your heart intensified, echoing in your chest.
"It wasn't a decision I blurted out lightly. I know you're hurt, because I am too. I married you with a reason. I have loved you. and if you were to ask me now, my answer would be the same—I am still in love with you."
Why did it feel like your vision was beginning to blur once more?
"But," Nanami's face contorted into a frown, gazing hard at you. "If staying with me is what makes you miserable—if waiting nights after nights, hoping I can make it each time haunts you so much—then I'm more than willing to release you from that burden. I don't want to subject you to that life."
Warm tears slid down your cheeks. Sniffling, you averted your gaze, looking downwards.
"Look, I make you cry again," he sighed, a mix of fondness and sadness in his voice, as a bitter smile graced his lips. One of his thumbs gently lifted your jaw, while the other tenderly wiped away your tears.
"Kento, I—" you quickly looked up, swallowing the lump in your throat. You had made up your mind. "I don't want you to leav—"
"I know," he cut in, his voice solemn, as he stroked your tear-streaked cheeks. "I know, and that's exactly why I'm going to say what I'm about to say next."
And with his next words, your heart burst into complete, utter warmth—
"Let's start over." Nanami Kento's voice was your lifeline, anchoring you and keeping you afloat. "We can take our time. There's no rush—we can return to how things were in the beginning. And when you're ready, then and only then... will I ask you to marry me again."
The one person who has your heart in his grasp, someone whom you are willing to care way more than yourself... You were openly sobbing now and yet a radiant smile broke through your tears.
There was only one answer you had in mind.
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Five years later
"Yes! Yes! Yay!"
Today was sunny, just like the day of your wedding. Memories flooded back as you glanced at the grand wedding portrait in the foyer, a snapshot of yourself and your husband in blissful celebration.
A smile tugged at your lips as you stared at the gentle smile on Kento's face amidst his typically stiff posture. You remembered his vows to you.
The one person who I will look for the rest of my life... is you. I have never met someone so important and precious to me that it hurts.
The sound of a car pulling up snapped you out of your reverie. Oh, he's home.
As you opened the door, your smile grew even broader, until a small figure darted past you at such speed that you were left gawking.
"Daddy!" your daughter's voice rang out with pure delight, leaping into your husband's arms the moment he swung the car door open, catching him off guard.
"Oh my, why are you so sweaty?" Kento inquired, scrutinizing your daughter with a puzzled frown, yet holding her close. "I thought we're going to the playground after this?"
"She's so excited for it that she keeps running and jumping around all the while," you chimed in with a gentle sigh, affectionately ruffling your daughter's hair as she beamed up at both of you.
Before long, the three of you set off to the playground, fulfilling the promise you had made to your daughter. As she entertained herself with the slides, Kento's low chuckle drew your attention. "What's so funny?"
"She takes after you a lot, you know," he remarked, a fond smile on his face. "The way she is just full of energy."
"Really? But sometimes she'll get this wrinkly little scowl on her face when she's annoyed—she looks like you then."
"Wrinkly...? No, surely I don't have that many wrinkles yet..."
Your laughter filled the air, a testament to the joy found in these simple, everyday moments.
Unexpected moments of joy, the comfort of family, and a love that had grown and evolved, stronger and more resilient with time...
And this, is what you'd call a happy marriage.
2K notes · View notes
kitten4sannie · 5 months
Note
Thots on pussy slapping? 👉🏻👈🏻
my hard hours are technically closed but i’ll make an exception for you dear anonnie bc the topic at hand is so yummy like im actually so weak for this ughhhh and since this isn’t member specific i’ll go ahead and come up with bite sized scenarios for my bias trio and they’ll go up in intensity with each one heheheh. happy new year i hope you enjoy this little treat ;3 <33
warnings: pussy slapping obv lol, soft dom! yunho, lowkey sadistic hard dom! wooyoung, hard dom! (pussydrunk) san, teasing, dirty talk, possessiveness, pet names, name calling, praise, false praise, degradation, spit play, sir kink, size kink, hand/vein kink, fingering, just the tip until it’s not, bulge kink, oral (receiving), overstim, squirting
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level 1 ♡
Yunho routinely stuffed two long, slender fingers back inside your pulsing cunt, knowing they were hitting your g-spot from the way you were whining and writhing around underneath his larger frame, his free hand clutched around your jolting hip. “Fuck, princess, you’re so tight right now. Are you going to cum for me?”
“Y-yes, Yunnie, can you please do that thing I like? I’m so close…!” you requested, gazing up at him underneath your wet lashes.
“My naughty girl…” he whispered softly, gently spreading your pussy open and rubbing the rough pad of his thumb against your exposed clit, making you gasp. “You want me to hit your pretty pussy so you can cum all over me?”
“Fuck–yes, please…!”
“Then, take it, princess,” Yunho sighed softly, making sure to curl his fingers just a little more inside your soaked, squelching hole, right as he brought his large hand down onto your cunt, hitting it hard enough to propel you over the edge.
“Cumming…”
“Mm, that’s it, baby, don’t stop. Keep cumming for me,” Yunho breathed out, sending you into a state of prolonged esctasy when he began to rub his rough palm against your pulsing clit, your juices leaking down his veined forearm. He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean, before leaning down to kiss you, murmuring against your lips, “You always taste so good, princess.” Kiss. “Always look so pretty when you fall apart for me.” Another kiss. “Wanna do it again?”
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level 2 ♡ ♡
Wooyoung had you locked in place in his lap for over an hour, warmth emanating from his chest against your back, his thighs positioned in a way that kept yours spread apart, routinely smacking his palm against your swollen clit and fucking your slick cunt with only the tip of his throbbing cock. The small, pathetic whimpers you made as soon as his hand came in contact with your stinging cunt and the sound of your hole squelching each time he stretched you open again was like music to his ears, but he knew what you really needed. His low, breathy voice sent a wave of goosebumps up the slope of your neck when he cooed, “Awwh, does my sweet girl need to cum now? Does she deserve to? Hmm?~”
“Yes, please, Youngie, let me cum,” you pleaded, about to melt into Wooyoung as soon as he began to lower you further and further down onto his cock, filling you up so good you thought you might cum then and there. “Fuck me, please, oh my god, fuck me–”
“Mm, you’re already so desperate for my cock that you’re begging for it?” Wooyoung rubbed his thumb around your clit, before his fingers formed a V, sliding them up and down your cunt around the outline of his slick cock that was still pushing inside you ever so slowly. “You need it inside this pretty pussy that bad?”
“Yes, Youngie, I need your cock so bad, I can’t take it!”
Then, be a good girl for me and take it all,” he grunted in your ear, immediately slamming his hips into yours, his thrusts unrelenting, not giving you any choice but to take his thick, veined cock deep inside your cunt until he decided you had enough.
“Ah– ah – it’s too – fuck,” you gasped, your body seizing up with overwhelming pleasure after being teased for so long, tears forming in your eyes from the sight of his cock protruding slightly through your lower stomach each time he filled you up. “Too much.”
Wooyoung tsked, squeezing your clit roughly between two fingers, making you shudder. “Don’t you start whining now. What happened to the desperate little slut that was asking for this just a second ago?” He sent a harsh smack to your clit, amused by the barely audible sound that left your drooling mouth. “You’re going to cum just like this, and you’re going to like it.”
“Youngie, please,” you choked out, turning your head to look up at him through teary eyes, only to find pure carnal desire in his.
Wooyoung smiled darkly, licking at the mole on his bottom lip, his fingers pressing into the bulge present in your abdomen just to feel his throbbing cock as it sank inside you over and over again. “You asked for it, so I’m going to make you cum so hard you forget your own name. Sounds good, yeah?”
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level 3 ♡ ♡ ♡
“Can I cum, sir? Please? I’ve been so good for you, so can I please–fuck!” you gasped, withstanding yet another smack directly onto your reddened cunt, a fresh wave of arousal leaking out of you.
San, who was in between your thighs, taking his sweet time devouring your cunt, wasn’t in the mood for your games. “A good girl waits for her reward, isn’t that right, you little brat?”
“I’m not a brat,” you whined, squeezing your thighs together to squish his cheeks a bit, letting out a giggle, knowing you were withholding San from his meal. This encouraged him to grab your legs by the bend of your knees and lift your thighs up, folding you in half.
“Oh, yes, you are.” San leaned down, licking one long, slow stripe up from your dripping hole to your puffy clit, grabbing your hands to make you hold your own thighs up, which you obediently did, this time around. “You know what else you are, princess?”
“What, Sannie?”
San pressed his thumbs against your folds to spread you apart for him, watching your hole flutter around nothing. “You’re my dumb little slut.” He pursed his lips and spat directly into you, before plugging your cunt back up with his thick, thrusting fingers, satisfied with the sudden moan that tore through your throat. He gave you a fake pout. “Aren’t you, baby?”
You were at your limit, only able to take what he gave you, your mouth open in a soundless bout of pleasure, your teary eyes focused on San’s smug face, taking yet another finger inside you, feeling it rubbing against your gummy spot.
“I asked you a question, princess,” San grunted, smacking his free hand down onto your clit, more slick dripping down his taut, veiny forearm, eliciting more breathless moans and whines from you, still finger-fucking you so brutally to the point that all you could focus on was the shlick shlick shlick sounds your pussy made each time he pounded his digits into you. “Can you even hear me? That look on your face is telling me otherwise. How are you already fucked stupid when I haven’t even stuffed my cock inside you, huh? Are you that much of a whore that all you need is to get your puffy little cunt filled and spat on, and you’re ready to cream yourself?”
“Yes, sir…!” you were finally able to verbalize, your voice strained with immense pleasure, your thighs beginning to shake. “I’m such a whore for you, Sannie, only for you, so please, let me cum.”
San simply smiled up at you, dimples forming near his pretty, pink, arousal-covered lips, immediately curling his fingers up into a come-hither motion, his mouth latching onto your abused clit, sucking and licking at it with his hot tongue relentlessly until your moans crescendoed and your warm squirt began to pour out of you. “That’s it, baby, that’s fucking it, oh my god, look at you…”
San groaned heavily, taking a moment to suck your cum off of his fingers, before diving in between your trembling legs again to press his mouth back onto your spasming cunt like he needed it for oxygen, dragging his tongue up and down your slit to collect your arousal, slurping it up into his mouth, his dark, hooded eyes never leaving your barely open ones. He took a second to breathe, before speaking, his voice ragged and dripping with arousal, “I’ll give you a minute to come down, but get ready, angel. You’re gonna keep cumming for me just like that, and I’m only gonna stop when you have nothing left to give me, alright?”
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Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡
© kitten4sannie, 2023.
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hxney-lemcn · 1 month
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Prince and the Frog — Housewardens x gn! reader
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summary: you find yourself cursed and you go to your prince to lift it.
tw: none that I can think of.
a/n: I saw something about the princess and the frog and got inspo. This is so fun, goofy, and lovely, I hope y'all enjoy <3
wc: 1.9k (~300 each character)
Master List
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You weren’t sure what you’ve done to deserve this, but even you felt it wasn’t enough. I mean a frog? Really? And the cure was a true love's kiss? Seriously? Can it get any more cliche? You might as well search for a princess and turn her into a frog as well and then set off into a journey of personal growth…you suppose a prince will have to do. You went to the first person you thought could help, time to see if they really would still love you if you were a worm, err…frog.
Riddle Rosehearts
Okay, so maybe Riddle wasn’t technically a prince, but a queen is a step above that, no? You were a little scared of his reaction, but you couldn’t stay a frog forever. Not to mention that someone else had cursed you, it’s not like you turned yourself into a frog. So when you managed to find him he freaked out, mouth agape as you explained your situation. Thank the sevens you could still talk. Riddle’s face soured, lips twisted into a scowl. At first you thought he was going to find a way to collar you in your current slippery state, but he ended up ranting about the person who cursed you, asking for any details that you could provide. The thought of kissing you to break the curse hadn’t even crossed his mind, instead skipping straight to punishing the fool who’d curse the Queen’s rose and making them reverse it. It was then that you learned just how quickly Riddle could sniff someone out if he wanted to, because the effects had been reversed by the end of the same day. (If that doesn’t show you how much he loves you then I don’t know what can).
Leona Kingscholar
…are you sure about this? I mean…yeah he’s a prince and all but he might just toss you mistaking you for a random frog who dared to encroach on his space. The type to argue he wouldn’t have to love you if you were a worm cause how ridiculous is that? Well…not so ridiculous now, huh? Thankfully, you had found Ruggie first, explaining your situation and asking for him to bring you to Leona. Not so thankfully, Ruggie found the entire thing hilarious and had to take a moment to calm himself down. He kept snickering to himself the entire way to Leona, making you want to die, or just stay a frog and live a happy life in a nice little pond and start a little froggy family. When Ruggie managed to tell Leona what was going on in between laughter Leona just stared at you like you were the stupidest motherfucker. Hey! It wasn’t like you were asking to be cursed! Has an internal conflict on what to do. On one hand he wants to prove he’s your true love, and kissing you seems to be the quickest way to get this over with…on the other you are a literal frog. Shooing Ruggie away, Leona bemoaningly gave you the quickest peck ever, making a face of disgust as he pulled away. The transformation back took a few seconds, but the look of disgust quickly turned to a smug smirk, feeling proud that you were truly his. 
Azul Ashengrotto
Okay, so again, not an actual prince…but he excelled at potions, so it only made sense…except he’ll probably make you sign your life away. So maybe not a good choice once again. I pray for you because one if not both of the Leech twins are gonna find you first and they’re gonna have a field day. ‘My, you’d look perfect in one of my terrariums’ Jade would note. Floyd would probably accidentally kill you because this entire situation is oh so hilarious and he forgot he’s supposed to be holding you gently. After the two have their fun (Jade plays with you and his terrarium like you're a doll in a dollhouse), they finally bring you to Azul, laughing their asses off in their own ways. Azul stares at you blankly as the two eel brothers leave, trying his hardest to not laugh. His face is red from concealing his humor, looking to the side to collect himself. He’ll offer you the cure, but for a price. Kiss you? He has a reputation to upkeep you know. He can’t be seen kissing frogs, imagine what that’ll do to his image! No, no, just sign the contract, and to sweeten the deal he’ll have the twins deal with the pest who thought it was a good idea to curse his angelfish. If you really persist, he’ll give in eventually. To be fair, he is also curious to see if you're his true love, but on the other hand he’s terrified if you're not. He doesn’t want to lose you. And to both your delight, you transform back after he gives you a small kiss on your little froggy head…he’s also running laps in his mind at how happy he is.
Kalim Al-Asim
He’s a prince and won’t think twice! He loves you truly, so it has to work! Too bad Jamil stumbled upon you first. Adamantly tries to hide you from Kalim and he feels his headache growing ten times worse. Why did you stupidly get yourself cursed? He asks like you did it on purpose. You didn’t know why the guy cursed you either! Jamil keeps you tucked in his hoodie until he can find time to bring you to Professor Crewel. You tried to fight him at first as you’d rather stay a frog than get detention for something you had no control over, but Jamil knew how to keep a tight leash on the unruly…it was his job after all. Unfortunately for him, Kalim walked into the kitchens right as you hopped out of his pocket. At first he was confused, and then even more confused, and then ecstatic. You hopped over to him, asking for him to protect you from Jamil (who was giving you a major side eye). Then you explained your predicament, and Jamil butted in about bringing you to Crewel. Innocently, Kalim offered to kiss you. No need to bother Crewel if the cure was so simple! Jamil couldn’t stop him in time, as Kalim kissed you the second he finished the sentence. Even Jamil couldn’t hide his disgust for a second at the action. Thankfully, Kalim was your true love as you had transformed back, and he hugged you gleefully. Unfortunately for Kalim, you refused any of his kisses until he rinsed his mouth (lmao).
Vil Schoenheit
Another queen. Best person to go to. He can whip up any cure just as fast as he can whip up any potion/poison. Rook, saw the whole encounter with the other student, and brought you to Vil without a second thought. He already knew everything about the idiot who cursed you so no need to stick around. Vil’s gaze turned into a disapproving stare as he looked at you. Even though Rook tried to stick up for you, dramatizing the whole event as stating how brave you were to face such a curse head on, Vil only shook his head. He motioned for Rook to follow him, not wanting to pick you up. He loves you, really he does, he just can’t afford to get his clothes dirty or stained. He picks the ingredients effortlessly, starting to brew the cure without a second thought. Both you and Rook seemed to want to get on his nerves as you both prattle on about true love and how he should kiss you. He didn’t expect you to be a cheesy sap (he’s lying), besides, don’t you know how many curses list true love’s kiss as the cure? The meaning is pointless. Besides, he doesn’t need some curse to prove his love for you, hasn’t he shown you how much you mean to him already? Or was he lacking, because he didn’t think you’d doubt him. Either way, you’re drinking the cure, he couldn’t risk that your slimy frog skin might make him break out. But don’t worry, if you really have room to doubt his love, he’ll make sure you can’t within the week.
Idia Shroud
Hahaha. Again, are you sure? He’s always holed up in his room, the only chance you're brought to him is if Ortho finds you (or vice versa). At first Ortho found you adorable, cooing at you as he floated to Idia’s room. He thought this was the perfect opportunity to show both you and Idia just how much you care for the other. How could either of you doubt the other if it's sealed with a true love's kiss? It was a brilliant opportunity! (Orthos a little too into this). He barely let his brother welcome them in before barging in and shoving a frog (you) into Idia’s face. At first Idia screeched, falling out of his gamer chair and scrambling away from the amphibian. Was Ortho pranking him? That’s totally uncool, he wasn’t some normie. But then Ortho happily blabbed about you and the curse and then it clicked…YOU WERE A FROG? Now he’s rolling on the floor laughing at you. You’d smack him if you WEREN’T A FROG. After he’s done laughing it up, he then freezes. Ortho wants him to kiss you? B-but that's gross! Who knows what diseases he’ll get if he kisses you. k. Wait, don't go to someone else! Fine, he’ll do it, but he won’t like it. Inside, he’s absolutely terrified. His mind is running a mile a minute. He doesn’t think you’ll actually turn back, someone like him doesn’t deserve true love…so imagine the face he makes when you do. Face a bright red, his hair a bright pink. Oh no, he feels faint. Give him a peck on the lips to finish him off.
Malleus Draconia
Uh oh. Queue the thunder and lightning. Whoever cursed you is the stupidest motherfucker. Malleus is the one to stumble upon you this time, to the disdain of his family. Lilia on one hand wanted to laugh about the situation, on the other, he knew he’d have to protect the stupid human from being smite for cursing Malleus’ love. Silver and Sebek are sweating as Malleus holds you gently in his hands. If he thought you were gentle as a human, he’s being ten times more careful with you in your froggy state. On the outside, he’s silent and brooding, on the inside he’s lamenting on finding you an enclosure where you can be happiest. What type of tank, soil, plants, water…someone please tell him this is reversible. Lilia chimes in before the rain outside can get worse, mentioning true love's kiss is able to reverse the effects. Malleus’ green slitted eyes never move from your tiny form, he finds you absolutely breathtaking even as a frog (this man is down so bad), but he’s nothing but relieved when he hears the news. Human lifespans are already small as is, he would’ve been completely gut wrenching if that time was cut even shorter. Another one who doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. This man would love you if you were a worm. He strokes your moist skin gently as he leaves a small kiss to your adorable head. His entire being, soul, mind and body all belong to you, and if that isn’t true love then I don’t know what is. His eyes shine brightly as you transform back, holding you gently as he promises to protect you from any miscreant that dares even look at you wrong…yeah so the guy who cursed you is still fucked and now you have a protective dragon at your heel 24/7.
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riseatlantisss · 9 months
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The end we start from
Pairing : Astarion x female!reader/Tav Around 1,8 words Takes place after the events in Cazador's palace in act 3 (non-ascended Astarion, established relationship) Angst with a happy ending (and loooots of sex) <3
Astarion doesn’t feel good enough. you show him he’s everything.
TW : 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, very angry/angsty/rough sex, fingering, mature language, mentions of death and depression, mentions of blood
A/N : when i don’t work, i do two things: i take care of my dog and i play BG3. i don’t eat. i don’t sleep. i don’t socialize. i just play BG3. and I write stuff about *him*.
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Astarion is many things. Quiet is not one of them. But lately, that’s all he’s been, and you’ve been worrying about him night and day. Tonight is no exception. You wake up in the middle of the night and realize two things : not only is Astarion’s side of the bed empty but the sheets and pillows are untouched, uncrumpled. His side hasn’t been slept in. This isn’t right. Of course, he doesn’t really need to sleep but he always, always lays next to you at night, spooning you, playing with your hair and whispering sweet I love yous in your ear until you fall asleep. His absence means something’s off. Unable to shake off the anxiety, you get up in one swift motion, determined to find him. No chance you’re falling back asleep now anyway.
Your bare feet hit the cold marble floor and you shiver as you make your way accros the bedroom in a hurry. You think of searching outside in case he went for a hunt, but it turns out you don’t have to look too far. There he is, silently leaning against the wall by the window, gazing into the pitch-black night of the Underdark. The light in the room is so dim that you couldn’t even spot him from your bed. You approach him and your heart breaks a little when you notice the lingering sadness in his crimson eyes, enhanced by the faint light of the burning candles next to him.
You want to ask him if he’s ok but it’s obvious he’s not so instead, you remain silent and close the space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him and gently resting your head on his shoulder.
“What are you thinking about?” You ask softly after a while, your voice barely above a whisper.
Astarion averts his gaze and gives you a faint smile, nothing but a twist of lips.
“Nothing,” he replies. “I’m just being selfish, as usual. Forgive me, y/n.”
You frown and stare at him incredulously. “You’re not selfish,” you say, surprised at how intensely he means it. “Why would you even say that?”
“I –” He pauses, rethinks his words. This does nothing to make you less worried. “I caused you great pain,” he finally says. “I put you in danger. Repeatedly, ever since we met. You could have died a hundred times and it would have been my own, entire fault.”
You look up to him and feel a lump form in your throat. You have never seen him look like this – grief in his eyes and etched into the lines of his face.
“I’m not dead, Astarion. I’m right here with you.” You say as you wrap your arms around his neck. He makes a sound somewhere near a sob and your arms tighten.
“But I did put you in danger and now you’re stuck with me for eternity, in the middle of nowhere, and you—" Again, he stops. He’s bad at this, at talking about emotions. But he fights through it because it’s you. And nothing can be left unsaid between the two of you. Not after everything that’s happened. “You deserve so much better. You deserve the world, and I can’t give it to you.” You’re not sure where this conversation is going but you don't want to find out. His lower lip quiver but he goes on, words spilling out of him like blood from a wound. “I can’t give it to you, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself for it. It’s killing me all over again.” You crumble under each one of his words. His lips are trembling now and you can’t stand it. You can’t but you can’t do him the dishonor of looking away either.
“Astarion, I chose this life.” Your hands flutter to his face, each one cupping a cold cheek, forcing him to look at you. Your heart is pounding, and you know he can feel it. “I had a choice; I could stay, or I could run, and I chose you. I’m not stuck here. I’m home.”
Astarion heaves a faltering breath in an attempt at composure. “Sometimes I think you would be happier without me. Better off.” He barely mouths the words, but you hear them all distinctively, nonetheless. “You should go and leave me here. Walk in the sun. Be happy and live your life.” You draw your hands away from his face and he steps back, speaking louder now.
“It won’t get any better in here,” he continues, gesturing urgently around the room. “It’ll always be cold and dark, I’ll always be a blood-thirsty monster. I belong to the shadows, and I’ll never be able to make you happy, so you might as well just leave.”
His words knock the air out of your lungs and, for a moment, you cannot breathe. You feel your pulse pounding in your veins and blood thrumming under your skin as your heartbreak turns into anger. That fucking idiot, you think, looking up at him through eyes blurred with tears.
“You don’t know what makes me happy. You don’t,” you shout, surprised by the vehemence in your voice. "And you certainly don't get to speak for me." Astarion looks at you in such confusion that you almost feel bad for a moment, but you continue.
“You – you make me happy, Astarion, gods you do. I would rather live an eternity in the Underdark with you than one more day in the fucking sun.” Your heart is clenching in your chest, and you can feel the heat pooling in your cheeks. “By no means would I be better off, let alone happier, without you. I can’t believe that you could even think –” You trail off and sigh in frustration. You can’t bring yourself to scream at him any longer because that’s all he’s ever known before you, screams and shouts and abuse, and you can’t do this to him. But that doesn’t leave you with many options to get through to him. Astarion opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t let him.
Without warning you grab his shirt to pull him close and your lips crash into his, knocking the breath out of both of you with the force that you collide with. It only fuels your rage because the moment his lips are on yours, you can’t help thinking that you almost lost this once and you can’t actually lose it. You won’t let that happen. So you kiss him harder. It’s rough and desperate and sloppy. It's harsh breath and biting teeth.
He turns you around and backs you against the wall. You take it rather hard, but you welcome the sting. Anything to shut him up about not being good enough for you. He crowds in closer, presses you even harder against the wall, shoving his knee between your thighs. His cold lips connect to your throat, making you eagerly tilt your head to give him access to your thrumming pulse dancing at your neck. You have absolutely no qualms about it. If he wants it, it’s his.
But he doesn’t take it. Instead, his mouth sucks and licks, making you squirm and rock your hips against him. You cling to him, grabbing his shoulders and sliding your hands down his shirt and to his back. He hoists you up like you weighed nothing and you wrap both legs around his waist. You tangle your hands in his curly silver hair and pull him forward to feel that mouth on yours again. His tongue running over your lip makes you grind faster, searching for more, more, more. You moan when his hand reaches beneath your gown and through your damp underwear.
Firm, icy fingers are stroking you into madness. You make a sound that’s close to a whimper, but more like a groan, because damn it, you are so impatient now. You are clenching – aching to have him inside.
He is gasping at the feeling of your fluttering around him, and you must be gasping too, but you’re not sure; your head falls back and it feels like you’re breathing, but you could just as well be drowning.
You dig your nails hard into his back - you need to channel the anger into something. Maybe you’ll be the one drawing blood this time. You lean forward to rest your dizzy head on his shoulder and groan in anticipation. Not wasting anymore time, he pushes his hard, large cock into you, going steadily until he’s all the way in.
“Harder. Fuck me harder.” You plead and he obeys.
He sets a pace that graces all the right spots, spurred on the increasingly desperate noises escaping your mouth. This is no effort at all for him, holding you up easily and fucking you hard with determination. But you can see it when you rest your forehead against his – the sheer weakness you feel is reflected right back at you and you know he needs this just as much as you do.
You are so close. You need to concentrate on breathing, just so you simply don’t die. Your lower back thuds against the wardrobe with your oh gods and fucks singing in tandem. The vampire trails open-mouthed kisses and little bites down your neck while maintaining the almost vicious pace in and out of you. Every stroke curls and loves and breaks you into submission. You forget to be angry because your release is in his hands and your body is desperately handing itself over to him.
Your thighs start to quiver around him, the sounds of wetness and the feeling of his own explosion of pleasure deep inside you taking you so high that eventually, you shatter into him. You’re so grateful for the strength holding you up, so you can fall apart.
Your repeatedly moan his name on your way back to consciousness, lips brushing softly against his pale skin.
Before you know what is happening, you break into a sob.
“Please…. Please don’t ever tell me to leave, ever again.” You try to articulate, your voice shaking uncontrollably.
He sinks down onto his knees, holding you in his lap and whispering, “Shh,” into your ear.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice is low and full of gravel. He never sounded so sweet. “I love you, always have and always will. And you’re not going anywhere.”
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ghostlygeto · 2 months
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warnings: fem!reader, tsum loves his gf (you), never tell atsumu i wrote this about him, cutesy<3
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atsumu miya who hates it when people say to you “oh you’re atsumu’s girlfriend!” or refer to you as just “atsumu’s girlfriend” instead of your name.
atsumu miya who thinks you’re the best thing to ever happen to him, so if he’s around to hear it he always takes over the conversation.
“actually, i’m ‘er boyfriend.” atsumu gave girl in front of you a sickeningly fake smile. he didn’t miss the confused look on their face as they processed what he said. “isn’t that the same thing?” atsumu loved when they asked that question, because then he got to talk about his favorite thing: you. “nah,” he shook his head, glancing quickly between you and the poor strange that did this to herself. “she deserves to be known fer more than jus’ bein’ m’girlfriend. but ‘m just some dude she puts up with.” atsumu knew he was underselling himself (and you thought he was overselling you), but still meant every word he said. “could lose m’entire career tomorrow ‘nd i wouldn’t care s’long as she’s still there.” atsumu beamed now, a real smile. he didn’t care about the way the girl just mumbled an “okay?” before walking away, but he did care about the look on your face right after. “do you have to do that every time someone calls me your girlfriend?” you frown, grabbing onto his hand that he so kindly held out for you. “doesn’t it get tiring to tell people all that?” “could never get tired of talkin’ ‘bout ya.” atsumu leaned in to dramatically kiss you on the cheek, laughing as your shove him away. “could listen to yer laugh forever.” “shut up.”
atsumu miya who, at the end of the day, doesn’t really care who’s know for what — he’s just happy he gets to have you by his side.
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starkwlkr · 2 months
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was i such a fool? | mark webber
part 1 part 3
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ENGLAND
You felt embarrassed. You didn’t know who was the person who spread the confirmed rumor around the paddock, but you knew that being in the paddock was the last thing you wanted to do.
Your daughter, Grace, had been reading in her room while you were in your home office replying to some emails. Zak had let you get some time off, which you were hesitant to take at first but you knew how chaotic it was going to get in the paddock if you were present.
“Mommy!” Grace called for you from her room.
“What is it, my love?” You asked, closing your laptop as you stood up and walked to her room. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, i finished my book. Can we go to the bookstore and get more?” Grace asked.
“Of course we can, baby.” You replied. As you were about to leave to go back to your office, Grace spoke once again.
“Can I go to a race?”
Grace had never attended a race before. She knew what your job was and why it required you to travel so much, but she never once attended a race. It surprised you that she even thought about it.
“A race . . .” You sighed. “You really want to go to a race?”
Grace nodded. “I want to see the fast cars.”
You thought about it for a second. It would be nice for Grace to see a race after years of only seeing it on tv. But then again only several people knew that she existed and you liked it that way.
“I’ll think about it.”
TIME SKIP TO ABU DHABI 2023
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MCLAREN GARAGE
Grace watched as several men dressed in orange with helmets on sat in their chairs. She was introduced to the pit crew by you. Everyone on the team was more than happy to meet her. She was extremely excited to be able to watch her first race in person.
“I’ll be over there watching the race, okay? Stay here with Lucy.” You told Grace. Lucy was an old friend from school. When you explained that Grace wanted to attend a race, she offered to look after the girl while you worked.
“Okay. I love you.” Grace gave you a kiss on the cheek.
“I love you more, my love.” You replied and hugged her before you left.
From a distance, Mark watched the girl wave goodbye to you. It made him feel like the worst person ever. How could he do that to you? You never deserved it. You were always so supportive of him, comforting him when he needed it and that all changed the second Mark kissed someone else.
He thought about going up to Grace and making small talk, but he knew you wouldn’t like it. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t want to upset you even more. Seeing her, so close yet so far away, brought sadness to the older man’s heart. She had his eyes, his smile, they even shared the same laughter, something you loved when you were dating Mark.
By the end of the race, he had decided to talk to you.
He tried to find you, but it seemed like you knew he wanted to talk so you hid from him. Only it wasn’t like that. Grace wanted to walk on the track so you took her. Lucy was tired so you told her that you would meet her back at the hotel. She held your hand as you and her walked around. It was a perfect moment for you and your daughter.
“Did you enjoy your first race?” You asked.
“Yes! The cars go faster than on the tv, it was so cool!” Grace exclaimed. “Can I go to another race?”
“You’ll have to wait until next year, my love, and you have school. I don’t want you missing a day of school because of a race.” You explained.
“Okay. . .” She sighed. “Who was the man that was in the garage?” She suddenly asked.
“There’s a lot of men in there, Grace.”
“He didn’t wear orange like the rest of the team. He had one of these too.” Grace pointed to her paddock pass. “I think Lucy said he used to be a driver.”
You had an idea of who Grace was talking about and you didn’t like it.
When you made it back to the Mclaren garage, you saw that it was almost empty. A few members of the pit crew were cleaning up, but that didn’t catch your attention. It was Mark that was pacing around the garage.
“Mommy, that’s the man I was talking about.” Grace whispered to you.
Mark noticed your presence and stopped pacing. “Hi.” Was all that he said.
“It’s getting late, Mark. You should go back to your hotel room, get some sleep. I know you don’t like early morning flights.” You said to the Australian.
“Hear me out, please. Just this once and I’ll leave you alone. Give me five minutes.” He pleaded. The remaining pit crew took that as a sign to give you privacy so they left.
Grace held onto your hand even tighter. “Who’s that?” She whispered again to you.
“His name is Mark.” You said.
Four words was all it took to break Mark Webber even more. He was just Mark to his daughter and he had to accept that.
“Three minutes and that’s it.” You said.
“I’ll take that.”
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