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#i thought the previous game was one of the best games ever made and one of the greatest stories i had ever seen play out
yukidragon · 10 hours
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Sunny Day Jack - Oopsie Baby 2
I've been scrounging up spoons as best I can to continue with the Jack accidentally getting Alice pregnant idea. I did a small continuation of it in a reblog replying to some tags, but I figured I'd make another proper post for as long as my spoons last.
Let's touch on a bit of the timeline for how this sort of AU might unfold. Beware of spoilers for Sunshine in Hell.
Content Warning: This post contains some spicy talk about sex and intimacy, both positive and negative experiences. I mean, how else is babby formed? There's also discussions about pregnancy, birth control, chronic illness, sickness, contemplating abortion, manipulative behavior, and a dash of overprotective sketchy yandere spice.
@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps
As you may remember me mentioning from previous posts, Sunshine in Hell is my personal alternate continuity of the Something's Wrong with Sunny Day Jack story and won't follow the games one-to-one. For example, as I've also mentioned in previous rambles such as this one, the relationship that develops between Alice and Jack is more of a slow burn, and that includes being intimate. Their first kiss isn't going to be the same day or just a couple days before they wind up making love for the first time.
Still, the morning after they go all the way for the first time is the same day Shaun shows up to stay at Alice's place. It's just too hilarious to me to imagine how flustered she'd be about the whole thing, especially after Jack seduces Alice while Shaun is there to mark his territory.
So it'd be even more hilarious that this is when Jack accidentally gets Alice pregnant. She was already mortified and upset after she figures out he intended for Shaun to hear them, so why not have that moment cause further drama later~?
Though I suppose their first time could be when it happened as well. I mean, getting knocked up isn't an instantaneous thing. It takes a while for the sperm to reach the egg and what not, and Jack is definitely going to seduce Alice a fair amount of times before the seed that he planted starts to take root.
Which is more reason why Alice kicks herself for not buying Jack condoms. Maybe the surreal and supernatural aspect of their relationship made such consequences slip her mind. Being with Jack is like living in a happy dream, detached from the regular struggles of reality. There's also the fact that condoms are expensive, and she's barely struggling to keep afloat with her meager paycheck.
It's so easy for Alice to forget such troubling details when Jack is there, whispering sweet words into her ear, caressing and kissing her body so lovingly. He makes her feel so beautiful, desirable, perfect, and irreplaceable. It's so easy for her to get swept up by him. She's never felt so loved before. No relationship has felt so right. It scares her sometimes how naturally they fit together, so effortless in spite of challenges they face. It's nothing like her previous relationship.
Not to mention their connection causes his horny urges to rub off on her, increasing her libido. Sex with Jack is actually a pleasure for Alice, unlike previous experiences, and she's found herself hornier than ever after they start getting intimate. She never thought penetrative sex could feel so good, make her feel so connected to someone without any barriers between them.
Granted, Alice was a lot more cautious when she and Ian were together, and she always made sure he wore a condom when he was going in down south. Despite often losing control of himself when horny, and really, really wanting to do it bare, he was pretty good about making sure he was always wrapped.
Though I wonder if Ian remembered to use a condom when he cheated. I mean, he clearly forgot he was in a relationship at the time, so I'd imagine using protection would slip his mind as well. Hopefully he didn't get his affair partner pregnant. That would make things so much more complicated.
Ian and Alice had discussed having kids before, but as a far, far future thing. Though Ian was terrified about being a father, as he wasn't sure he'd be a good one. He never knew his father. The closest thing he had to a father was Alice's dad, Ambrose, and even then Ian felt guilty even thinking about as Ambrose like that, like he was betraying his mom somehow. Perhaps it was because of all his mom's talk about him being selfish with his desires and how all men are cheating scum...
Alice had yet to talk about kids with Jack.. well, outside of him being a kids TV host and being fond of them in general. Certainly, he imagined having children one day with his sunshine, but Alice was taking things slowly with Jack.
Of course now the topic is at the forefront whether they're ready for it or not.
Alice was so distracted by her new relationship with Jack and all the pleasure and complications that comes with it, pregnancy never crossed her mind. Too much is going on for that to come up.
First there's the relationship itself, then using introducing Jack to Shaun as a trial run before Alice tries to do the same with her family. This comes with the whole embarrassing incident of Shaun overhearing Jack and Alice going at it and having to deal with the awkwardness that follows. There's also helping Shaun move into his own place and getting settled in.
It's only after things settle into a new normal that Alice starts bracing herself for how she's going to introduce Jack to her family, though she's started talking about him to them without yet mentioning his supernatural nature.
It'll probably be sometime after Shaun gets moved into his place that things start seeming amiss. Alice suffers from chronic illness, and sometimes this causes her cramps, exhaustion, nausea and food aversion/sensitivity. As such, when these pregnancy symptoms manifest, she just assumes it's business as usual, more or less, even if the nausea gets pretty intense. She's learned she just has to deal with it by this point.
It's only when Alice realizes that she hasn't had her period for way too long that the thought pops into her head.
One missed period is something to take note of, but not necessarily anything bad. Sometimes a period skips a month. Two though... that's when things get dicey.
Heck, Alice could even be as far as three months in if she mistakes the light bleeding that's common to experience in the early weeks of pregnancy for her period.
It's possible Jack noticed something different about Alice. Being a ghost(?) he might possess more supernatural powers than we've seen thus far in the story. It's possible a part of him picked up on some sort of change in her warm light that he can't quite put his finger on. Maybe to him it's like she's glowing even more radiantly than she used to?
Though Jack is more focused on taking care of his poor sunshine while she's sick. Alice has to work even on days when she's throwing up. It's so unfair. If only he could work in her place. If only he could provide more. He spoils her even more to compensate, and she appreciates how far he goes to take care of her, but he can't take away all of her troubles and woes.
Once Alice has the thought she might be pregnant, that's when the fear sets in. She hesitates to say anything to Jack, at least not until she takes a pregnancy test, but it'll be very hard to hide anything from him. Since she's been sick lately, he's particularly keen on going with her everywhere, especially if she's doing something to exert herself. Still, she does manage to talk him into staying home to cook dinner while she picks up "a couple things" from the corner store, one of which being a tester.
Alice doesn't like keeping secrets from Jack, especially since they've become so intimate, but this fear feels... irrational? Like she shouldn't worry Jack about something that might not even be possible.
Like she shouldn't crush his hopes considering how isolated he is...
It's even possible she had a pregnancy scare in the past with Ian and, well... I have a feeling that would've been a very stressful situation involving a lot of tears and fears.
It's better if Alice is the only one freaking out about what might be nothing at all.
Besides... Alice is on birth control. There's no way it failed... right?
Jack does pick up there's something amiss when Alice starts acting dodgy around him. When she rushes immediately to the bathroom after coming home from the errand, he's willing to chalk it up to being related to her illness, but the feeling of panic he senses from her when she takes a while to come out has him soon knocking on the door asking if she's okay.
When Alice gets the positive result from the pregnancy test, at first all she can do is just stare at it in disbelief. She did buy a second one, just to be sure or in case she somehow messed up the first, but the result is the same.
That's when the panic sets in.
When Jack knocks on the door and Alice hears his sweet, concerned voice, that's when she has a bit of a breakdown. She didn't tell him to come in, but when he heard her sob through the door, he couldn't stop himself from rushing in.
Home pregnancy tests in the 80's weren't an easy to read stick, but a whole miniature chemistry set, so Jack isn't likely to recognize the iconic little device Alice is holding in her hand. As such, he has no idea what's wrong and needs to calm her down so she can tell him.
Needless to say, Jack is floored when Alice tells him through tears that she's pregnant.
At first, Jack stares at her, stunned, then when it's clear that he heard her correctly, he's overcome with emotions - disbelief, joy, and worry being chief among them. The idea of being a dad is terrifying, but at the same time he's elated. A part of him wants to spin her around in the air and shout for joy.
It's her fear and tears that mollifies his excitement.
Jack focuses primarily on reassuring Alice, tucking away his excitement and his own worries for later. His sunshine needs him now... as does their unborn child.
Alice is so angry with herself. She should've thought about this possibility. She should've known better... bought condoms, got better birth control, done something! It's all her fault. After all, it's not like Jack can get his own birth control, and he always dutifully follows her lead. How could she have never even thought about this before? She was so reckless.
Jack remains strong for Alice, talking her down from spiraling while cuddling her close. He gets her off the bedroom floor and onto their bed where where it's comfy. She's not hungry for the dinner he made for them, but that's okay. He can heat it up later. Right now taking care of her comes first.
The situation is complicated. Jack understands full well that this is going to be a huge challenge, but he assures Alice they can both handle it. He promised to always be there for her and take care of her after all. He'll take care of her and their child, no matter what.
Alice worries about the logistics of it. This place is too small even for two fully grown adults, let alone a baby. Her apartment in Sunshine in Hell is much smaller than the one she lived in with Ian, with only one bedroom, one bathroom, and a common room sectioned off into a living room and kitchen/dining room.
Her paycheck is pathetic. Even though Alice always makes sure Barry doesn't stiff her on all the overtime she works, it's still barely above minimum wage. She has student loans to pay off, medical bills she has to pay with chronic illness and the like... plus having meals with Jack so he can feel more like a regular human means she's spending more on grocery money. How can that pitiful paycheck stretch enough to handle a baby on top of all that?
Then of course there's telling her family. Alice hasn't even told them about her situation with Jack yet. How is she supposed to explain this?
How is this even happening?
The rest of the day is spent with Jack comforting Alice and talking her through her panic and anxieties. It worries him how upset she is by this news that overall has made him so happy. He does share with her that he's worried too, but he knows that together they can handle anything. They'll be good parents.
Alice does consider abortion as an option, but the idea is too much for her to handle. She can't even vocalize the thought. She's pro choice, but that means understanding herself and what choice is best for her. As hard as having a baby will be at this point in time, the idea of getting in an abortion... she can't even think about it. It's just too much.
Fortunately, she doesn't have to. Jack does pick up on this line of thought and how hard it hits Alice, so he redirects the conversation away from it gently. He gets her to focus on the things they can do to make things work.
It might be happening a little sooner than Alice expected, but she said she wanted to have kids one day, right? It was something she mentioned while they were still just friends (likely when finally spilling her guts about Ian and lamenting all the dreams that were destroyed there). Even if the situation isn't ideal, she has a partner who loves and supports her. No matter what, Jack will be there for her and their baby. He's taken care of her so far, hasn't he?
After quite a long and emotionally exhausting conversation involving a lot of reassurance and love, Jack does manage to coax Alice into eating a little before she finally passes out. They have a plan of action in place, to see the doctor as soon as possible to get this confirmed and make sure she and the baby are healthy. After that, they'll take things step by step.
Money is the biggest issue in this capitalist society. Jack knows it all too well. Though he runs away from memories of being Joseph, the days when he was a penniless drifter still haunt him. He won't let that happen to Alice and their baby.
It's not a good thing what Jack is considering, but he did promise to take care of their little family, didn't he? What kind of man would he be if he just sat back and let Alice do all the hard work?
Still... Jack can't bring himself to go too far (yet). He's Sunny Day Jack! Sunny Day Jack would never consider doing something underhanded and illegal, even if he really needs the money.
But maybe... a few nudges to her boss might help grease the wheels a bit. Barry is such a bully, constantly forcing Alice to come in, especially when she's sick, pushing her to work long hours, trying to squeeze extra free hours of labor from her where he can. He owes her for all of that, as well as all those days off he yanks away at the last minute and overtime he just expects her to do day in and day out.
Jack always thought Barry was taking advantage of his sunshine. He encouraged Alice to stand up for herself more and make sure she got what was owed. He helped on her end, but clearly it's Barry that truly needed the lesson here.
Besides, it's not like a nightmare ever hurt anyone before, or a few sleepless nights for that matter. Jack is just teaching a naughty boss a lesson about respecting his employees and treating them fairly. A hefty raise and some bonuses are the least Barry can do after all the suffering he put Alice through.
If that's not enough... well, Jack will just have to brainstorm more ideas about ways he can take things into his own hands.
What's for sure is that Jack isn't going to let Barry push more overtime on Alice either. If anything, she needs more time off to rest! Pregnancy is hard on the body - especially a body that's already suffering from chronic illness!
Jack doesn't go too far, at least not right away. Terrorizing Barry is something he can excuse as justified in his mind right now. Outright theft or other highly illegal activities to acquire money? Not so much.
At least... not until Ian comes back into the picture, trying to act like the hero and save Alice from her plight.
Ian doesn't find out about the pregnancy until Alice mentions it on her socials. She joined some online support groups for people unexpectedly expecting for the first time, and Ian stalks every single account and who she follows to snatch up any scrap of info about her that he can.
It crushes him. At first, Ian almost believes that it's his baby Alice is pregnant with. It must be.
But that's just impossible. They've been broken up for over a year now.
Not to mention Alice has talked about a new boyfriend in some posts. Ian was going crazy trying to find more than just some drawings she posted about him, but this "Jack" character is like a ghost, with no footprint online.
Ian isn't even sure Jack is real. After all, that face paint and strange outfit look an awful lot like the part he's been hired to play. He actually convinced himself that Alice was stalking him like he was her (which makes it totally okay!) and found out about the part, which means she's indirectly telling him that she misses him by drawing "him" as his new persona that's going to make him a star.
But Ian doesn't say as such to her. No, not with how Alice is stubbornly distancing herself. She's been vulnerable since they broke up. She nearly accidentally killed herself after finding out he cheated. Anyone could've swept in while she was vulnerable to take advantage of her then dip out when she got knocked up.
It boils Ian's blood to think of such a predator targeting Alice like that, especially after he hurt her so badly already. Now more than ever he needs to step up and help her. He needs to cross the boundaries she put up to keep him out, for both their sakes.
So Ian gets in contact with Alice through a mutual friend. Heck, maybe even gets them to trick her into meeting with him someplace where he's waiting with a bouquet of flowers and a tearful apology.
Which isn't going to go over well. Alice would be freaking out at the ambush, especially since she'd be very visibly pregnant by this point and extra emotional due to hormones.
Ian was prepared for that though. He manages to keep Alice from running away and puts his metaphorical foot in the door. He apologizes. Not only that, but he offers her money, claiming there's no strings attached. He owes her at least this much for all that he's put her through.
It's a very unpleasant conversation for Alice to say the least, but she knows Ian well enough to know he's sincerely sorry. She knows he's in pain. He might have tricked her with this meeting, but he does care... He knows she wouldn't have the heart to abort or give away her baby. She's so kind, and she'll be a wonderful mother. He always knew she would be.
Ian feels sorry for himself for a bit, lamenting his mistakes, but he's going to make it up to Alice. She and the baby need help, and he'll do that for her... It doesn't even have to mean they're back together as a couple. Conceding this point is like a spiky lump in his throat, but he reminds her how they've always been each other's best friends, and he wants to be her friend again now. He won't push anything on her. He just wants to help.
Of course we all know Ian isn't going to be satisfied with just remaining friends, but he's learned over the past year or so since they broke up how to adjust his tactics. He's had to learn the art of the deal and how to make people want you in order to make it anywhere in his model and acting career.
Is it manipulative? Of course not, Ian would insist! How could it be? He's just making things up to Alice and showing her how sorry he is. He's proving it with his actions and not just his words. If he proves it well enough then he'll be able to make amends and make things right between him and Alice.
Ian doesn't even care who the father of her child is. He's not ready to be a father, but he views it as a sacrifice he's willing to take in order to have Alice back. He'll do his best no matter how scared he is, since losing Alice has been far worse than all the what ifs and fears he built up in his head.
If not for the pregnancy, Alice would turn down the money. She left the big apartment, her old job that she enjoyed, and a lot of possessions behind after the breakup just because they were tied to Ian. She willingly threw away all that money just so she wouldn't be reminded.
But Alice has a baby to think about. Her child is far more important than her hurt feelings or how icky she feels about accepting charity from her ex. Sure, Barry has surprisingly given her a pay increase lately, but it costs so much to get baby supplies and rent a bigger apartment. Plus there's the medical bills...
It... it should be fine, right? Ian owes her for all the pain he put her through and this makes them even... right? But how can she tell him not to contact her again after accepting it? He might claim there's no strings attached, and maybe he believes it, but the emotions tied to it can't be so easily severed.
Naturally, Jack is anything but pleased by this whole thing. He can't do much to stop it, save encourage Alice to leave, but Ian keeps drawing her attention away from him with pitiful attempts to gain her sympathy. Alice is so kind. Even after how much Ian has hurt her, even though this meeting itself is painful, she still doesn't want to hurt him.
Jack does help bolster Alice's resolve to turn down the money, at least initially, but Ian is surprisingly insistent. He drops the money into her account before she can stop him. He still has her account details from when they lived together and had started intermingling their finances. Alice forgot about that since he never did anything related to it since the affair.
When Alice sees that amount hit her bank account, she's just stunned. How the hell did Ian get so much money? Sure he looked good, and he was wearing expensive clothes and product, but...
Then again, Ian has that modeling job now. He's popular. He talked about this show he got a starring role in. It's hush-hush right now, but he'll let her in on the details since she's his oldest friend.
Alice isn't interested in details. She keeps trying to avoid letting this situation get more personal... but Ian has become more confident since he moved away. He's so different in a number of ways that it's hard to recognize him... yet he's also the same in ways that are maddening and make it so hard for her to stop caring about the little bullied boy who was her only friend in school.
Jack helps Alice cut the meeting short, or at least shorter than Ian would've liked. Ian accepts her retreat reluctantly, but offers that she can contact him at any time. If she needs more money, help with anything, a shoulder to cry on, or anything else, all she has to do is ask. He's there for her... always.
Oh you bet your butt Jack has a lot to say about that sentiment.
Unfortunately Jack can't tell Ian off, at least not there. Sure, he could expose himself, write a message like he did with Shaun, but that needlessly complicates things.
They'll just need to have a private discussion later.
For now, Jack focuses on Alice, reassuring her that she doesn't need Ian or his money. She doesn't have to deal with feeling hurt or awful like she does whenever she even thinks about Ian. She has Jack, someone who loves for her and their baby and will move heaven and earth for them.
Alice did make it clear right away that she's in a new relationship with someone else. She's happy now. She even mentioned Jack by name, though that resulted in Ian giving her strange look she couldn't quite understand. He didn't seem as crushed as she expected him to be. He even asked about Jack, and Alice declined to answer, not wanting to prolong the conversation.
Ian caught how Alice winced when he asked to meet Jack, maybe get his phone number or photo. Her avoidance of any of these just felt like proof to him that he was right about the identity of this "boyfriend" of hers.
The entire encounter was stressful, and felt far longer than it actually was. Alice was left feeling a bit conflicted and unhappy with herself for letting Ian get to her like this. Fortunately, Jack was with her the entire time. It was reassuring to have him holding onto her while she had to face Ian. He gave her the strength she needed and made dealing with suck an icky situation just a bit easier with his reassurance that it was okay to just leave Ian behind. Jack continues to reassure and comfort her after the meeting, which she needs badly after being so shaken.
Keeping the money is something Alice is the most torn about. She doesn't feel good about it, and Jack says they don't need Ian's help, but... they do need money. She's living paycheck to paycheck, and the baby isn't even here yet! She's barely keeping her head above water.
Can Alice really let something as petty as pride keep her from giving their baby a good life?
Jack has been helpful the entire time. His help has been invaluable. Alice doesn't think she could hold it together without him. This money doesn't take away from how important Jack is to her or how much she loves him. It doesn't change who her baby's father is.
Jack can't do anything his sunshine doesn't want, and that includes returning the money.
So Jack will just have to take matters into his own hands. As long as Alice doesn't need that money, she won't feel pressured to keep it.
Alice also won't have to feel obligated to let Ian back into her life if Ian is the one who decides to leave her alone once and for all.
Alice was right that a parent can't let their pride get in the way of taking care of their child. That includes Jack's pride in being the flawless role model of Sunny Day Jack.
So what if a law or two is broken? It's not like the law applies to someone who doesn't legally exist. Jack might as well take advantage of this almost nonexistent state he's in to get away with things no one else can.
Ian might have a lot of money to throw around, but Jack can do so, so much more than Ian could ever dream.
Jack just has to figure out a way to not get caught by the only person who can see him. It's not that Alice would reject him for what he did for her and the baby, oh no! It's just not good to stress her out more than she already is.
Alice doesn't need to know, just like she doesn't need to know about the person Jack used to be. He's still clean as long as she doesn't know. Jack can stay clean and perfect and everything Alice will ever need.
Things might've gotten a bit out of control, but that's okay. Jack can fix it. He's quite the problem solver. All Alice needs to do is take care of herself and love him with all her heart, just as she's been doing.
Jack has been given a second chance. He'll never let anyone get in the way of that.
I think I'll wrap things up on that fun yandere note, as I'm starting to run out of spoons. Maybe next time I can go into the King family's involvement and how Jack might try to win over his new in-laws despite a lot of obstacles standing in his way. I hope you enjoyed this ramble about the drama that comes with unplanned baby making!
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beegomess · 1 day
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ILOVE YOU MATHEO FANFICS!!! And your Theo ones omg they're so cute and make me smile every time I see them!! Could you do something like this? If you want to of course!
It's like in Brookline nine nine where Jake and Amy have that bet where whoever gets the most arrests by the end of the year get to make the other do whatever they want.
• what if Matty boy or Theo (ether is good Matty would be my pick tho! Or if you like the prompt you could do one for each <3 ) and the reader had a bet about who could get the best marks on a test or something like that.
• And he wins and they make you go on "the worst date ever"
• like Jake made Amy in BNN. But like Jake that's when he realize his feelings for the reader.
Supper fluffy and cute!! Rivals/friends to lovers !
Love ya!!
M.R. || Real love baby
Summary: When a boy pulls a girl's hair, it usually means something more than he actually admits. Warnings: none. A/N: This came out faster than usual because I simply LOVE Jake and Amy. I really hope it met your expectations, I'm delighted with how I was able to construct this text.🫶🏼
Open orders!
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The friendship between you and Mattheo has always been a roller coaster of jokes, provocations and, occasionally, a latent feeling of competitiveness. His blood boiled when he mocked every time a teacher caught his attention, and you reciprocated in the same coin, turning each slip of his into a reason for laughter. These exchanges never went unnoticed, and the common room often echoed with the barbs exchanged between the two of you.
What began as childish games, however, now seemed to gain a different meaning. In the sixth year, the provocations were no longer seen as mere mischief. Their friends, who used to watch from afar, began to observe them with insightful eyes, full of insinuations, as if they saw something you had not yet realized. What was once just an exchange of innocent barbs, now seemed to have a background of palpable tension, almost as if there was something else behind the debauched smiles and defiant looks.
You had grown up. And, over time, new interests have emerged. However, the fun of seeing the other angry for any insignificant reason still aroused an almost childish satisfaction in both. The adrenaline of a small triumph, no matter how small it was, was addictive. And, to your surprise, that night in the communal room would seal a new phase of this dynamic between you.
I was sitting with Theodore, discussing his grades from the previous year. Both were always the best in the class, and there was no more fun in competing with each other. Someone who really challenged his abilities was missing, someone from another house, maybe. But before they could continue the conversation, a familiar voice interrupted their thoughts.
- What are you talking about? - Mattheo appeared, sitting on the sofa in front, his curious expression, almost as if he was sniffing the opportunity to get into the conversation.
You sighed, rolling your eyes. I knew he wouldn't miss the chance to participate.
- We were regretting the lack of a competitor to match - said Theodore, with a convinced air that only served to fuel Mattheo's interest.
- Competitor? - Mattheo frowned, looking genuinely confused, before opening a malicious smile. - Oh, this nonsense of those who get the best grades, isn't it? Well, your problems are over, because the opponent you're looking for is right here.
His laugh was automatic and loud. Mattheo's idea as an academic threat seemed, to say the least, absurd. Theodore also let out a discreet laugh, and Mattheo looked at them with a mixture of challenge and frustration.
- Oh, please, Matty, don't make me laugh. - you said between laughs, barely able to catch your breath.
- I'm serious - he replied, his voice getting softer as his eyes met yours. - Come on, are you so afraid of losing to me?
You narrowed your eyes, trying to keep your composure. The game was getting interesting.
- Afraid of you? - you replied, raising your chin with confidence. - You won't even come close to reaching me, Riddle.
A glow of determination appeared in his eyes, and you knew that from that moment on he was committed. But before he could answer, Pansy, who was watching from afar with a mischievous smile, intruded.
- Bet on a date at the end of classes - she suggested, her voice full of malice. - Whoever loses will have to do what the other wants for one night.
You blinked, surprised by the audacity of the suggestion, but before you could protest, Theodore was already agreeing, a sideways smile on his face.
- Great idea - he murmured, clearly having fun with the situation.
Mattheo didn't waste time. He stretched out his hand with a provocative smile.
- Closed. Get ready for the worst date of your life.
Without hesitation, you shook his hand, sealing the agreement. He knew he was getting into a potentially embarrassing situation, but he also trusted that, as much as Mattheo could be merciless in his provocations, he would never do anything to really hurt or humiliate her. It was a bet, yes, but one that came with a layer of mutual trust.
From that day on, your destiny was sealed. The "meeting" was already a reality, all that remained was to define who would dictate the rules. A part of you longed for the challenge, while another, more cautious, began to wonder if you hadn't underestimated Mattheo.
[...]
The weeks that followed showed that you had, in fact, underestimated Mattheo.
In the first days after the bet, you treated the challenge carefree, almost mocking the idea that he could do well. Mattheo was always the type of student who killed classes, glued to the exams and, in the end, counted on the good will of the teachers to pass the year. However, something has changed.
In recent months, teachers' conversations about Mattheo have started to surprise you. They no longer talked about their lack of discipline, but about their potential. They said he was finally showing how smart he was - something that, in fact, you already knew, but that he never made a point of demonstrating.
Mattheo, who used to seem uninterested, now really studied. Their furtive glances and provocations during classes seemed to hide a new, almost disturbing determination. Every time he raised his hand to answer a question or hit a complicated question, you felt the pressure increase. He was, against all expectations, taking it seriously.
And, little by little, you realized that maybe you were facing an opponent much more prepared than you imagined.
The months passed like a gale, each day bringing with it new provocations and challenges. The agreement, which initially seemed like an innocent joke, had turned into a real war of nerves. Both maintained a serious posture in class, but behind this facade, the tension was visible with each exchange of glances. No opportunity was wasted for a sharp comment, and the friends around had already gotten used to the constant clash between you.
The whole year was a fierce dispute, with comparative grades right after each class, always followed by sarcastic laughter and subtle provocations. In the first weeks, you laughed at Mattheo's attempt to keep up, making a point of spreading rumors among the girls who met him in the library. With a mischievous smile on your lips, you whispered:
- They say that Mattheo Riddle is looking for a girlfriend. He's been spending more time in the library than anywhere else, he must be trying to impress someone.
The giggles echoed through the common room, and in a short time, the rumor ran loose through the corridors of Hogwarts. The result? The library, which used to be a place of concentration and silence, became a battlefield. Girls appeared unexpectedly around Mattheo, curious to know if there was any truth in the rumors. He, visibly irritated, cast looks of disapproval in his direction, knowing very well where that chaos had come from.
On the other hand, he didn't leave it cheap. Knowing that his weak point was concentration, Mattheo took revenge in a calculated way. Whenever you isolated yourself in a corner of the library to study in peace, he appeared, casually, and started a loud conversation, talking about the most random and uninteresting subjects, but enough to divert your attention. Not satisfied, he began to launch provocative comments whenever he passed by you, as if he were talking to himself:
- Oh, how I love to see the despair of those who are afraid of losing a bet.
Or even:
- I heard that some people can't study under pressure... what a shame.
Not to mention the colleagues who suddenly came to ask silly questions or break their silence, clearly instigated by Mattheo. You knew he was behind each of these little sabotages. The environment that was once his refuge for study had become unbearable. Wherever you went, it seemed that Mattheo was always there, ready to disrupt his plans.
In the weeks of tests, the tension intensified. The psychological war continued, and now, everyone used their tricks with precision. The librarian had already lost patience with both of you, and more than once you were reprimanded for "disturbing the study environment". But nothing seemed to be able to interrupt the dispute. You were tied, each test being decided by tenths, sometimes with him in front, sometimes with you.
And then, the last test of the year arrived. It was from Feitiços, one of the most challenging subjects and also the one that both knew could seal the fate of the bet. The room was tense that morning, with the students silent, nervous, frantically reviewing their notes. Mattheo sat in the row in front of his, and before the teacher entered, he turned around, throwing a malicious smile in his direction.
- Ready to lose? Should I reserve the night for your punishment? - he whispered, his tone soft, but loaded with provocation.
You raised an eyebrow, returning the smile with a sparkle in your eyes.
- I hope you've already chosen your worst outfit, Riddle. I don't want it to seem like a complete disaster on our "date".
He laughed softly, shaking his head before turning around. The game was about to end, and they both knew it. Every word exchanged, every defiant look, everything had led to that moment.
When the teacher finally came in and distributed the scrolls, the silence in the room became absolute. The sound of feathers sliding on the paper was the only thing that was heard. Each second seemed to last an eternity while you wrote your answers with determination, maximum concentration. There was no room for mistakes.
From time to time, you noticed Mattheo moving in front of you, but refused to look away for more than a second. I knew that any distraction now could be expensive. When the test finally came to an end, you let out a sigh of relief. But the tension was still in the air. All that was left was to wait for the result.
In the weeks that followed, the provocations did not stop. Mattheo was confident, always making insinuating comments about what he would do if he won the bet. On the other hand, you kept your posture firm, not showing a shred of nervousness.
- Don't worry, Mattheo. I'm sure you'll love to fulfill your part of the agreement. - you said, without ever letting out the anxiety that grew as the day of the delivery of the notes approached.
When the notes were posted on the board, Mattheo's heart accelerated, but he kept his expression confident. You approached soon after, and when you saw the minimal difference between the notes, your heart sank. Mattheo had won. He had taken the best grade, but by such a small margin that it even seemed like a whim of fate. You, who until then had maintained a calm posture, could not avoid an expression of disbelief.
Next to him, Mattheo let out a loud, triumphant laugh. He looked up, as if he had won a great battle.
- I said! - he exclaimed, drawing the attention of everyone around. - I said I was going to win!
He was not satisfied with the silent victory. No, Mattheo wanted everyone to know that he had won the bet. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to compose yourself while he turned on his heels, laughing as if he had just won Hogwarts' most desired trophy.
- Oh, I can't wait to see this! - Mattheo provoked, approaching you with a mischievous smile. - I hope you enjoyed losing, because now the night is all mine.
You just rolled your eyes, knowing that he wouldn't miss the chance to make the bet worth every penny. Mattheo wasn't content to just win; he needed to make it a show.
[...]
In the afternoon after Mattheo's victory, he and Theodore walked through the busy streets of the Diagonal Street, in search of the perfect piece for the "date" that Mattheo had planned. The sun was high, and the sound of the conversations of the wizards around filled the air. Mattheo, with a malicious smile on his face, was eager to turn the bet into an embarrassing and memorable situation for you. Theodore, next to him, watched him in silence, waiting for the right moment to pull the conversation that was clearly stuck in Mattheo's mind.
- I think this store will do. - said Mattheo, pointing to a window that displayed a collection of exaggeratedly colorful and extravagant clothes. It was the kind of store that didn't care about following trends, but about being the center of attention. Exactly what he was looking for.
When they entered, the environment was even more absurd than the showcase suggested. There were dresses with giant ruffles, shiny capes and hats that almost touched the ceiling. Mattheo took a quick turn, his eyes dancing between the most ridiculous pieces.
- She'll hate it. - he said, holding a pink dress with golden details and voluminous ruffles. - Perfect!
Theodore, with his arms crossed and an ironic smile, watched as Mattheo looked for more options. He knew his friend was having fun with that, but there was something else. There was always something more when it came to Mattheo and you.
- You know, you're trying too hard for this, don't you think? - Theodore commented, casually, while leaning against the store counter.
Mattheo let out a chuckle, without taking his eyes off his clothes.
- I'm trying hard to make sure she's embarrassed. That was the bet. She knew what she was getting into.
Theodore arched an eyebrow, still watching him carefully. He let Mattheo continue for a few more minutes, before deciding it was time to deepen the conversation.
- Right, right... - Theo said, in a carefree tone. - But... why are you so looking forward to it? I mean, it's just a bet. It seems that you are spending more time and money than you should.
Mattheo stopped for a moment, holding a ridiculous piece of clothing in his hands, but didn't answer immediately. His expression, for a brief moment, showed doubt. He looked at Theo, a little annoyed.
- I just want to make sure she learns not to underestimate a Riddle - he finally replied with a forced smile.
Theodore didn't buy the excuse. He took a few steps, approaching Mattheo, and lowered his voice, in a more serious tone.
- Or you really like her... - Theo shot, bluntly, while watching his friend's reaction.
Mattheo frowned immediately, dropping the dress in a macaw next to him.
- You're delirious, Nott. That has nothing to do with liking her. It's just... fun. A bet, remember?
But Theodore, undisturbed, just shrugged.
- Of course, of course. It's just a bet - he said, with sarcasm in his voice. - But let's think a little... You spent the whole year teasing her, Mattheo. Calling her attention in every possible way. He told girls to talk to her just to annoy her, he did everything to disrupt her studies, and now... he's personally choosing the most ridiculous outfit he can get for this date.
Mattheo turned around, crossing his arms and staring at Theo with a closed expression.
- And what's wrong with that? - he countered, defensively.
Theo took a few more steps, now closer to Mattheo.
- What's up with that? - he repeated, shaking his head with a smile. - You spent hours thinking about it, Mattheo. Hours. For someone who says it's just a bet, you're spending a lot of time on it. That's not just fun, Mattheo. Admitting that won't kill you.
Mattheo clenched his fists for a moment, clearly frustrated with the direction of the conversation. He wanted to deny it. He wanted to laugh at Theodore's face and say that it was absurd. But the words got stuck in the throat.
Theo, realizing his friend's discomfort, gave another accurate blow.
- How much time have you spent thinking about how to provoke her this year? And how many times have you done this because, deep down, you didn't want her to move away? - Theo let out a low laugh and shook his head. - All this, Mattheo, all these provocations... were just an excuse. An excuse to stay close to her, to ensure that she kept noticing you.
Mattheo snorted, trying to ignore the truth in Theodore's words. He took another piece of clothing, trying to divert the focus from the conversation.
- You don't know what you're talking about, Nott - he said, harshly, but his voice didn't have the same firmness as before.
Theo approached again, now with a softer smile.
- I know exactly what I'm talking about. And, deep down, you also know. - He took one last look at the ridiculous dress that Mattheo was holding and sighed, as if he was accepting something inevitable. - But it's okay. Keep pretending it's just a bet. I just hope you realize what's really going on before it's too late.
With that, Theodore walked away, leaving Mattheo alone with his thoughts and the clothes he had chosen. The silence that followed in the store seemed to weigh more than before. Mattheo stood there for a few seconds, staring at the dress in his hands, but his mind was elsewhere. Theo's words reverberated in his head, and for the first time, he wondered if the bet wasn't just an excuse to hide what he felt all the time.
[...]
The next morning, Mattheo seemed to have completely buried Theodore's words. His provocation was the same as always, but maybe with an extra touch of sarcasm. The most ridiculous costume he could find was carefully left at his door, wrapped in an almost solemn way. The box, with a dark green bow, seemed to mock you. Despite knowing exactly what was inside, you spent the day ignoring it, leaving the package untouched next to the door while trying to keep your head busy with anything other than the "date" that would happen later.
The provocations between you continued throughout the day, as if everything was normal. Mattheo seemed to have fun every time their eyes met, and you just rolled your eyes, determined to pretend that nothing would happen. But as the day progressed, reality began to weigh on you. There was no way to avoid it anymore.
When the sun finally set, you knew it was time to face the challenge. With a heavy sigh, he took the wrapping from the door, already feeling the weight of the humiliation that was to come. The contents of the box did not disappoint. The pink dress was a freak, with a huge golden bow that adorned her back, so exaggerated that it looked more like a gift wrapping than a piece of clothing. The voluminous skirt gave the impression that you were ready for an 80s debutante ball, and the boots... Oh, the boots were a monstrosity. Black and worn, with a low and clumsy heel that did not match at all with the rest of the set.
Resigned, you dressed up the best you could. Your hair, at least, was beautiful, and you decided that, if you were going to be ashamed, the least you could do was keep your dignity intact. She went downstairs to the communal room, where some of her friends were already waiting for her, evidently curious to see the disaster that Mattheo had planned.
- This is a nightmare - you grumbled, as you approached, without trying to disguise your frustration. - After that, I can forget about getting any boyfriend.
Pansy laughed softly, covering her mouth with her hand, while Blaise and Theo exchanged complicit glances. Mattheo, who was standing next to the fireplace, couldn't contain a laugh.
- Oh, go, don't be dramatic. - Mattheo said, with a glint of amusement in his eyes. - I guarantee that, after today, you will be the most talked about person in Hogwarts.
You crossed your arms, trying to maintain dignity, although you knew you were already lost.
- Spoken for the wrong reasons, maybe - you replied, your voice loaded with sarcasm.
Mattheo just laughed more, taking a step forward.
- Come on, come down soon. We don't have all night. - He made a theatrical gesture with his hand, indicating that you should come closer.
When you finally came up completely, the muffled laughter began. His friends, no matter how loyal they were, couldn't help it. Pansy and Daphne covered their mouths to try to hide how much fun they were having, while Theo and Blaise watched with the looks of those who knew that it was an unmissable show. But the most surprising was Mattheo's reaction. He stopped for a moment, his lips curving in a smile, but his eyes... Well, his eyes seemed surprised.
Even with all that ridiculous outfit, you could still look beautiful, which clearly disarmed you for a brief second. The dress, as absurd as it was, highlighted the curve of her waist and the delicate features of her face. And, for a thousandth of a second, Mattheo forgot the real goal of the bet.
But he soon recovered, shaking his head and returning to the carefree and provocative attitude.
- Well, well... - he said, crossing his arms and tilting his head to observe you better. - I think a detail is missing.
Before you could ask what he meant, Mattheo took something from behind him and extended it towards him. A track, similar to those of Miss Universe, but with an inscription that made her stomach turn: "Mattheo Riddle is amazing".
You looked at him, incredulous.
- You can only be joking - you murmured, but Mattheo kept smiling, swinging the banner in the air as if it were a prize.
- Come on, you can't miss it. This is part of the agreement. - He insisted, his eyes shining with malice.
- That wasn't in the agreement - you replied, with narrow eyes, but you knew it would be useless to argue.
Mattheo just laughed and extended the band.
- Oh, but it was you who said I could choose whatever I wanted. And now I want everyone to know how amazing I am. - He winked, clearly having fun at the expense of his indignation.
With a sigh, you took the band and reluctantly put it on the dress. It was the height of ridicule, but when he looked at Mattheo, he realized that, as much as he was having fun, there was something more in his eyes. Something beyond provocation.
- Now, make a turn for everyone to see - he ordered, with a mischievous smile.
You rolled your eyes, but turned on your heels, feeling the huge bow hit your back, while the muffled laughter around echoed through the room. Mattheo applauded in an exaggerated way, as if you were at a fashion show.
- Perfect! - he said, laughing, and approached, putting an arm around his shoulders. - And now, let's enjoy this unforgettable night.
And so, you left for Três Vassouras, where Mattheo had scheduled everything. The songs, the dances, even the places where they would sit. His friends, of course, went together, ready to watch every second of this show, but, as much as Mattheo's plan was going to embarrass you, the truth was that while you walked next to him, something seemed different. Maybe it was the way he looked at you, or the fact that, as ridiculous as the situation was, you were about to have more fun than you ever imagined.
When you arrived at Três Vassouras, the environment was full of life, with laughter and conversations filling the air. But as soon as they passed through the door, the bar seemed to stop for a moment. All eyes turned to you, as if you had just witnessed a scene worthy of a comedy play. Your exaggerated pink dress, with your voluminous skirt and the golden bow on the back, made you look like a clumsy doll. And next to it, Mattheo, dressed in a gigantic tuxedo, with his sleeves and pants folded up in an almost comical way, didn't help improve the situation.
The laughter echoed around, and you felt your face burn with shame. People whispered, pointed and laughed shamelessly. You tried to hide the discomfort, but you felt everyone's gaze as if you were on a stage, exposed in a way you never imagined. Mattheo, on the other hand, seemed impassive, with a malicious smile on his lips as he walked next to him to the table at the back of the bar, completely ignoring the reactions around him.
You cast an angry look at his disproportionate tuxedo, muttering something low.
- That was... a creative choice, at least - you commented, still trying to adapt to the situation.
He shrugged, fixing the exaggerated collar.
- It's all part of the show, princess.
As much as you were angry, you ended up laughing at the situation, especially when the buttery beers arrived. The sweet and creamy drink, as always, brought a little warmth and relief to the discomfort, and before you knew it, your friends were already around, laughing and pulling you to dance.
At first, he hesitated. She was too ridiculous to move, but the lightness of the jokes and the excitement of the night began to weigh more than the embarrassment. Soon, you were in the middle of the track, spinning and laughing with Pansy, Draco and the others. Each sip of buttery beer made the dress look less absurd, and the music helped to forget the looks around. Suddenly, it didn't matter anymore that I was dressed like a party cake. Only the fun and the shared laughter mattered.
While you danced, forgotten about the initial shame, Mattheo, from afar, watched with a different expression. He was leaning against the counter, a beer in his hand, but he barely touched it. Instead, his eyes were fixed on you, the way he moved carefree, laughing and spinning to the sound of the music. He didn't realize the exact moment when he stopped thinking all that was a joke.
Theodore's words, said the day before, echoed in his mind. At that moment, inside the store, he had vehemently denied any feeling. But now, seeing you so at ease, with a genuine smile on your face, the provocations and games seemed distant. All he could do was watch you, as if it was the first time he really noticed how much you enchanted him.
The time they spent provoking each other, the jokes, the competitions... all this was dissolving in Mattheo's mind as he looked at you that night. Theodore was right, he noticed. Maybe all that would have been an excuse, a way to disguise what he had been feeling all the time.
And now, with you dancing and laughing so freely, he couldn't pretend anymore. The smile he showed to others was always a mask, but at that moment, looking at you, he felt something real. A slight tightness in his chest that he couldn't ignore.
Without realizing it, Mattheo let out a deep sigh. It was no longer a matter of provoking or winning bets. There was something else there, something he hadn't been able to admit even to himself.
And, for the first time, he stopped fighting against that.
Damn, he really fell in love with you.
____________________________
masterlist xoxo, bee🫶🏼✨
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properbastard · 2 years
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astrasng · 24 days
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SCRATCH || BANGCHAN
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MINORS DNI!
pairing: idol!chan x female!reader
summary: thanks to chan's solo stage you finally made him yours.
warnings: blood (from scratches obv), handjob, spanking, petnames (baby, honey, angel, sweetheart) unprotected sex, cursing
author's note: from my previous breakdown post bc of chan got me in an inspired mood so i made a little somethin somethin. still what the fuck was he thinking. also, if you're a regular reader by any chance (ily) you might have noticed i write jealousy tropes, IDKK WHY THO SORRY
important!: this is pure fiction, the act in this story is by my imagination and not based off true events. please do not copy the work.
enjoy!
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It isn’t like you’re not supportive of your boyfriend. You’ve always been there for every idea, even if you thought that it wasn’t the best one. The things you have to deal with him being an idol settled deep into your mind, already accepting the consequences that may come in the way. But it’s not like you would ever give up your relationship with Chan just because he’s doing risky things that you may not like. 
To be honest, it kind of became an advantage for you. 
You would watch him having fun on stage with the other members, sometimes splashing water at each other, making everyone in the crowd either cheer or laugh at their silly behavior. There were times when they got sentimental, wishing all the happiness for STAY and the members for the future. It made you emotional just in the same way as you would watch them through the TV in your shared apartment. 
And then there were times where you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together and wait for him.
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“Had fun today?” 
The sarcastic tone caught Chan’s attention as he’s doing his everyday night routine, just as he’s finishing up his shaving session. He knows exactly why you’re talking and reacting to him this way, you’ve been all fidgety with him since he got home from the first day of the tour, and when he stepped inside the apartment he saw you still sitting on the couch, not welcoming him in with the usual hug he gets. 
Chan looks a little bit to the side so he can get a reflection of you changing in the room, the towel you used laying on the ground after taking a shower. Without him. 
“Of course.It’s always heartwarming to meet with STAY’s. And the kids were so hyped about getting solo stages too.”
Now that just boils your blood. 
“Oh, were they?” You keep your back facing him,not letting him see how frustrated you really are about the game he’s playing. “They were doing an amazing job indeed.” You shut your eyes momentarily before putting on your velvet nightgown, and slowly walking towards the bathroom where your boyfriend is staying. 
“Yeah, I assume you saw mine too, right? Did you see the special makeup they did on me?” With pride he chuckles while putting away his shaving equipment, patting his dry as he picks up his toothbrush. His question should have a very easy and simple answer, yet here you are ready to give him a brainwash about not caring about your mental health. Cause what the hell was that? You can’t even form the offensive words you want to say to him out of frustration, you could never say anything negative about his performances in general — but the way he’s talking about it, so full of himself, you can’t help yourself. “I wonder who made all that.” It slips out, biting down on your lip softly to stop yourself from further embarrassment. 
“It must’ve been the makeup artist of course, but I could’ve done a better job if you ask me.” You step into the bathroom just as you finish your sentence, Chan unable to answer due to his mouth full with mint scented bubbles. 
As you want to pass behind him, you swipe your delicate fingers on his defined back muscles, the photos of him painted in scratches for the performance fills your vision. 
“Makeup was unnecessary,to be honest.” 
There’s something glinting in Chan’s eyes as a lopsided smile appears on his face, looking at you through the mirror placed above the bathroom counter. As the words leave your lips, he licks his plump lips slowly, putting away his toothbrush he just used. “If I had asked you, would you do it?” 
The air stops suddenly in your throat,taking your eyes off of him as you busy yourself with something else infront of you. “Well…it doesn’t matter now.” 
“Oh it does, honey.” Chan says lowly, his voice suddenly closer as you want it to, and you know perfectly he’s only a step away from you. “If I only knew my baby just wanted to help me out in my solo,” He snakes his arms around your waist slowly, his bare chest pressing into your clothed back as he’s standing behind you, whispering in your ear. “I could’ve used some help.” With that, he pressed a slow open mouth kiss on the side of your neck. his hands caressing the skin on your stomach. 
“Should we recreate it and show it to my makeup artist?”
Chan whispers against your ear, biting down slightly on your earlobe as he makes eye contact with you through the mirror. You look already disheveled just from his touch, your nightgown scrunched slightly up as he kneads your stomach, one of his hands slowly inching up to your breasts. “Would you like that, baby?” 
“I didn’t mean it like that, Chan – mhphm…” A small moan leaves your lips as he pinches your nipple in his slender fingers, continuing to make out with your neck as you try and compose yourself. 
“How did you mean it then?” He grunts out as you push your backside on his crotch, his cock twitching already in his sleeping pants at the thought of you being jealous. “Tell me.” 
“I–I just…” You try to form words, keeping yourself together and not yet falling for his words but then Chan sneakily slides his other down towards your waiting heat, his finger immediately meeting with slickness between your pussy lips. He groans again, grinding into your ass to ease the pain from being so hard. “Baby, if you want to scratch my back that badly just say it.” There’s something hiding behind his words which makes you shut your eyes from the pleasure he’s causing, your hands flying on the counter for support. “I kind of…wanted to..” Your breath hitches, cutting off your sentence when Chan flips your nightgown upwards to expose your wet pussy, your naked ass on display in front of him as he takes his hand away from your breast and caresses one of your cheeks. “You wanted what? Do you need some help darling?” He grunts under his breath when he feels you clench around his fingers, plugging it in and out to take your breath away. You moan out when you feel his fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot that makes your back arch. 
But Chan doesn’t give in that easily. 
You suddenly feel a stinging pain on one of your cheeks, moaning out shamelessly from the sensation he just caused with his hand. When you pick your head up you see Chan already looking at you through the mirror, lust filled eyes raking over your already fucked out face. “Say it baby.” 
You can feel his hand smoothing over the place he just spanked, the air in the bathroom so humid you can feel yourself getting sweaty again. His finger never stopped working inside you, with that spank almost knocking you over the edge. 
When Chan doesn’t see you changing your mind and aófinally answers him, he only clicks his tongue and tilts his head to the side. Without a second thought, he slaps your ass again, his finger circling around your clit rapidly when he hears your pornographic moans echoing in the bathroom.
“I–I wanted to mark you!” 
And there it is. 
As you practically moan out the words, Chan’s finger is coated thickly with your cum as his words made you tip over the edge. Your whole body shaking in his arms as you come down your high slowly, trying to gather your thoughts and realizing what you just said.
When the words finally leave your mouth he can’t help but smirk, the possessive side of you finally showing for the first time in your relationship. “And why is that honey?” Chan teases you, seeing your ears red from the sudden confession you just made. 
“Just so everyone knows that you’re mine..” You mumble quietly, shame overcoming you as it paints your cheeks deep red. 
Something snaps inside Chan. He can’t help but groan out, his cock painfully hard against his pants as he turns you around and places his hands on your throat, slightly adding pressure on it. Before you know it, you’re pressed up against the wall, his lips already chasing yours. 
“Do it baby.” He kisses you, his tongue sneaks through his lips to taste your lip balm you applied earlier he loves so much. “I want you to do your worst on me,” He whispers between kisses, his hand suddenly picking you up to put your legs around his waist. Your whole body welcomes him, your mouth opens as he slides his tongue inside once again, and your fingers landing into his freshly washed hair as he devours your lips. His hand scrunches up your gown once again before he presses his hardness into your slick core. 
At the contact you moan out loudly, already wanting him inside you, to ease your pain that he caused. 
“Feel that baby? It’s all yours. Nobody else has that but you.” 
With a whine you throw your head on the wall, Chan’s lips continuing to leaves red splotches on your sensitive skin as he takes his hand and pushes down his boxers, hissing out the minute the air hits his precum covered cock, tip red from all the waiting and veins bulging with excitement. 
He drags his wet tip over your puffy lips, spreading them open more to make room for himself when he circles around your clit. As he slides his length between your folds, you feel all emotions gather up inside you, the feeling too hazy as your vision becomes blurry from the need. “Channie,,please..” 
“‘s okay baby,I’ll give it to you.” He chants when he finally pushes his tip inside you, groaning out from you uncontrollably clenching around his cock when he nearly settles halfway in. “You have to relax,angel. You make it impossible for me to–”
“Chan — I’m so sorry, I–” He hears you gasp out, your body all tensed up, your eyes wide open as you look into the mirror across you. He looks swiftly behind him to see your naked bodies melted into one, and then it catches his eye. 
With one thrust he settles fully inside you, moaning from how incredibly tight you are around his length, keeping himself back to not buckle into you rapidly. He puts his hand on your chin, making you look into his eyes and not on his blood covered back. “I asked you to do this, right?” With a softened gaze, he makes sure you understand what he’s saying, not taking his eyes off of you until he sees your lust filled expression again instead of worry ones. “Right baby?”
“Y-yes..” You gulp when you see your fingers slightly covered in red around his neck. “But I didn’t want to-”
“It’s fucking hot.” He hisses, his voice whinier than usual as he puts his forehead on your chest, his hips starting to move. “You did such a great job sweetheart.” He pulls completely out before thrusting into you again, this time harsher as he hears your cries next to his ears. 
When you take another look in the mirror, you see what you just caused. The moment you felt his cock hitting you so deeply you couldn't help but deepen your nails into his skin on his broad back, now covered with blood here and there. It softly dribbles down his defined muscles, and Chan is right. It is fucking hot. 
So you clench around him again when you feel his fingers circling around your clit, his cock hitting the perfect spot as he moans out your name. “Do it again.” He demands, his hand flying on the wall next to your head to thrust up harder into you, making you roll your eyes. As you see Chan so deeply in emotions you scratch his back again, now only deep redness showing on his pale skin. 
The pain on his skin makes him inch closer to his release. The jerks of his hips, slamming against your hips are quickening, becoming more erratic, intense and desperate. You cry out his name nonstop, feeling him twitching inside you. 
“Give it to me.” He’s breathless as he chants into the side of your neck. “I need you to come around my cock baby.” 
His demand tips you over the edge again, moaning out his name as you feel him curl against you, his shoulders on display for you to see what you painted on his back. His grunts are vibrating through your body, the pain melting into pleasure as he paints your insides with his thick cum, feeling so full of him, feeling him everywhere. Chan bites down softly on your skin,kissing the pain away quickly as you both come down from this high. 
You are his. He made sure a long time ago, but now, you made sure he was yours too as you watch the crimson red blood slowly sliding down his back, gathering it on your fingers.
“It took a solo stage for you to claim me as yours?” Chan asks when he softly puts you down on the bathroom counter, a bright smile painting his face once again.
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like and reblog is much appreciated! ♡
divider by:@enchanthings
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keerysfreckles · 4 months
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lay all your love on me — LN4
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pairing: lando norris x piastri!reader
summary: the aftermath of y/n's worst date she's ever been on, lando comes to pick her up.
warnings: one curse word, not proofread
a/n: dedicated to kayla bae 🤭🤭 comment if i should make a part 2!!!
masterlist !
⋆ ˚ 。 ⋆ ୨୧ ˚
y/n can't remember the last time she went on a decent date. in the past year she's been on five dates, none of them doing any justice.
two of them were too busy staring at her chest from the low neckline of her dress. one wouldn't stop talking about the football game plastered on the tv behind her at the sports bar he dragged her to. one didn't even show up.
and now, the fifth date, he isn't taking anything she says seriously.
she tried explaining how she's able to travel a lot due to her brother being a formula one driver, and the bloke just laughed in her face. claiming "girls can't be that into racecars".
y/n's never wanted to punch somebody as hard as she wanted to punch the man in front of her.
he then started talking about his own career, which lead y/n to talk about hers. however, to the man across from her, having a degree in communications does nothing to improve y/n's future.
this man was suffocating. every word he uttered just made y/n's blood boil.
it got to the point where y/n simply left. she left the man there, at the restaurant, with the most dumbfounded look displayed over his features.
she couldn't stand to be there another five minutes, so she simply left. no apology, no goodbye.
the chilly monaco air did not help her sour mood, in which she didn't bring a jacket with her. the walk to her apartment wasn't far, maybe twenty minutes.
the more and more the girl thought about her date, and the previous ones, she couldn't help but feel sorry for herself. the past five times she's gotten dressed up, and was excited to learn about someone new, she just left disappointed every time.
y/n didn't even know why she wore the heels she has on. she's never worn them, so she's praying she doesn't get blisters the next morning.
groaning, she pauses to take off her black heels. her shoulders slightly relaxing as the pain from her feet falls into the pavement with every step.
now y/n wasn't sure if the rumbles she heard behind her was thunder, or just the roaring of engines passing in the streets.
she pushed the thought off for now, and went back to thinking about her failed dates. she didn't think it was her fault, but maybe she was just unlovable. there was a chance it wasn't the people she dated, and that she was the one with the problem.
the over consuming thoughts had now gotten best of the girl. before she knew it tears were welling up at her bottom lashes. she didn't care about her makeup anymore, choosing to wipe at the tears now mixing with her mascara.
seconds barely pass, and it was final that the rumbles y/n heard earlier was thunder. meaning rain would shortly follow after. she groaned again, wanting to do anything but walk home in the rain.
she could easily turn around and wait the storm out in the restaurant, but she didn't want to face the man she left at the table again.
she then decided to call her brother.
however her plan quickly backfired once she remembered oscar and lily went out tonight, somewhere over an hour of where y/n is now. so calling oscar was out of the question. the phone didn't even let out a full ring before she hung up.
to make matters worse, y/n felt big drops of rain hit her shoulders.
there weren't many other options y/n could give into tonight. her close friends were all in france for god knows what, oscar was busy, and y/n just wanted to go home.
call her pathetic, but y/n couldn't help but cry. her night has only gotten worse, and she couldn't do anything about it.
after mere minutes, her hair was soaked from the now heavy pouring rain, she had no doubt her makeup was fully ruined, and she was sulking underneath a flickering lamppost.
she let out a dry chuckle after scrolling through her contacts once again, now seeing the only person left to call. the only person who'd answer her tonight.
on the third ring, he picked up.
"y/n? is everything okay?"
y/n hasn't gotten asked that in a long time. so she simply let out a choked sob. she tried answering, but her voice failed her again.
"lando," she managed to get out, only to have her cries over power her words.
he was quick to ask her what happened to make her this upset. to which he only got small answers in between more cries and jagged breaths. he knew he had to do something.
"can you tell me where you are?" he asked, while slipping his shoes on before running out of his apartment towards the parking garage.
he was glad to finally get a normal answer out of y/n, as he pulled out of his parking space with a loud screech of his tires. his windshield wipers did almost nothing to help him see in the rain, only making him driver faster, wanting nothing more than to get y/n in the warm and dry comfort of his car.
he drove carefully down the street address she gave him.
then he saw it. his heart broke at the sight in front of him.
y/n sitting on a bench, with her head in her hands. heels discarded by her feet, and her wet hair sticking to her back and shoulders.
her head picked up at the headlights of lando's car, and the sound of his driver door opening.
"god, y/n are you okay?"
lando kneeled down in front of her, placing his warm hands over her knees.
all y/n could do was lean forward into lando, wrapping her arms around him for some form of comfort.
lando couldn't care less if his shirt was getting wet, he could easily put on a new one once he got home. all he cared about right now was the girl in his arms.
he helped her get to the passenger side of the door, before jogging back to the bench to grab her heels. as he threw them into the backseat his eyes moved to an extra jacket. he was internally thanking his past self for leaving this inside.
y/n shivered out a thank you, for the hoodie and at his action of turning the heat on.
the ride back was silent. a comfortable silence, mostly because lando didn't want to pressure the girl into talking about exactly what happened tonight.
after lando turned left, y/n spoke up, "wait, lando you made the wrong turn. my apartment's that way."
she pointed out the window, but lando simply shrugged it off.
"y/n you haven't had the best night," he starts by pointing out the obvious, "so you can crash at my flat tonight, okay? we can watch as many rom-coms as your little heart desires. i know how much you love those."
y/n chuckles at his ending sentence, but can't agree with him more.
as soon as lando pulls into the parking garage, he helps y/n up the stairs to his apartment door. he successfully opens the door with one hand, as y/n's shoes are hanging over his fingers in the other.
he watched as y/n crossed her arms over herself once he shut the front door.
"do you want a hug?" he held out his arms with a small smile adorning his lips.
y/n walks closer to him, her barefeet hitting the hardwood with each step before she rests her head on his shoulder.
one thing y/n loves about lando's hugs is how secure they feel. his arms always end up wrapped tightly around her, and she swears she feels her bad mood leave her body whenever she's in his embrace.
after a few moments, lando speaks up, "do you want to change? i bet i have some clothes that'll fit you."
y/n nods before ridding her face of any tears. she then follows lando to his room. she sits on the edge of his bed, watching carefully as he grabs a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.
"i'll be out in the living room. take your time," he speaks softly, kissing the top of her head before he leaves the room.
y/n finally lets out a sigh. a sigh filled with many different emotions. too many to count, so y/n distracts herself by changing into the much more comfortable clothes lando grabbed.
she tried running her fingers through her damp hair as she exited his room, but her hair became too tangled from the rain.
lando's small smile made it's way to his face once y/n came into the living room.
"you feeling any better?" he pats the spot beside him on the couch.
all y/n does is nod, but lando senses that something's still bothering her.
he brushes off the thought for now, as he and y/n search for a movie to watch.
after eight minutes of flicking through netflix, y/n breaks the silence.
"lan, do i seem unlovable to you?"
the question certainly caught the brit off gaurd. he took a moment to think about his response before answering, but no certain response would be the right one.
"woah, what makes you think that?"
y/n gets more quiet, becoming more self conscious of herself as she sits beside lando.
she shrugs before responding, "every date i've been on in the past year has gone wrong. i can't help but think if it's something i'm doing. that i'm the one with the problem, not all the guys i've seen."
lando's heart breaks at y/n's statement. how long has she been feeling this way about herself?
"you're not unlovable y/n. it's all those idiots that don't know what they're missing out on. you're one of the greatest people i know, and if any guy you date can't see that, he's not worth it."
lando wasn't sure where his small speech came from, but the look from y/n made his heart beat faster than it did before.
she looked at lando with nothing but adoration. a blush covered both of their cheeks now, and before y/n could really register anything her brain was processing she leaned over to quickly kiss lando.
yes, she was kissing her brother's best friend. yes, she was kissing lando after she had a horrible date.
was it a bad idea? probably. but y/n needed one thing to go right tonight. she could only pray this was the thing.
just as lando got used to the feeling of her lips against his, she pulled away.
she couldn't read the emotion on his face, making her start to ramble.
"i'm sorry. i'm so so sorry lan. i- i just needed one thing to go right tonight. and i thought maybe kissing you was the right thing to do. shit, i'm sorry. i can leave-"
y/n's sentence was cut off, now by lando pushing his lips against hers. his hand found it's way to the back of her neck, as hers balled up the material of his shirt to try and bring him closer to her.
their panted breaths mingled together as they were only centimeters away from each other. their eyes filled with adventure and lust, both wondering where this thing could lead to.
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jude-duarte-wannabe · 23 days
Note
Charles jealousy smut please!
my own little devil
order up!
hi lovely thanks for the request, i have been dying to write this and i am a charles girl so i may have gone a little feral while writing this, so apologies in advance <3 i did end up picking prompts from my bakery list to go with this just fyi and those prompts will be bolded.
pairing; charles leclerc x female fwb reader
blurb; your devious little plan to make charles jealous and regret leaving you high and dry the previous night goes wrong.
warnings; biting kink, rough sex, a speck of breeding, spit, dirty thoughts, wall sex, google translated french, semi public sex, creampie, hair pulling, dirty talking, oral fem!receiving, possessive behavior, choking, mentions of pregnancy, dom!charles. [let me know if i missed anything!]
chai; biting or hickeys [i picked biting] lemonade; possessive vodka shot; rough sex tea; semi public doppio; wall sex chocolate mousse; "i'm sorry" croissant; "don't you dare" pancake; "no, we can't, not here" sugar pie; "stop wriggling" boston cream pie; "fuck, it's dripping down your legs"
currently playing; jealous by nick jonas "cause you're too fuckin' beautiful and everybody wants a taste, that's why i still get jealous"
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it was all his fault, at least thats what you told yourself when you came up with this devious little plan in the first place, that it was charles's fault for up and leaving before you'd been able to cum around his cock last night.
he'd showed up at your place around two in the morning tipsy and in a grump from having lost the race earlier in the day begging you to make him feel better and so naturally since he was the best fuck you'd ever had, you let him have his way with you but his way last night was utter fucking torment.
he enjoyed, no he loved seeing you beg and he was hoping you'd be begging tonight down on your sweet little knees but you had decided that, that was not going to be the case, you wanted to be the one to have him on his fucking knees for a change.
you knew deep down that this dress would do the trick, the red satin hugged your figure, attaching itself to each and every curve of your body and the bra you wore pushed your boobs so far up that they could fall out of your dress with one wrong move, you looked like a sin; that was all charles was capable of thinking the moment he saw you walk into the club, his own personal little devil.
when you brushed past him on your way to the bar, your fingers grazed across his crotch and the slight gasp he let out made you smirk "you are playing a dangerous game douce fille" charles whispered to himself as he watched you go, hips swinging with every step, charles couldn't help but lick his lips at the sight, desperate for a taste.
charles was fine with letting you wander about the club showing off for him but what he didn't like was you showing off for all the other men there as well with your ass practically hanging out the bottom of your dress, you were his and he wasn't gonna let another guy lay a hand on you, so while he let you have your space, he found his eyes traveling over to you every now and then just to make sure you weren't getting into any mischief.
but little did either of you know, mischief was heading your way. when you felt a hand brush across your back so close to your ass as you leaned across the bar to take your drink from the bartender, you smirked thinking it was charles coming to claim his prize for the night but oh how you couldn't have been more wrong.
as you looked behind you, you made eye contact with a man that just radiated fuckboy energy "please don't touch what isn't yours" you mused quietly and he held his hand's up innocently like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar "relax just wanted to get to know ya, i'm brad" you couldn't help but roll your eyes, brad what a classic fuckboy name.
after a thought you decided he was harmless since you had no intention of flirting or going home with him tonight, so you decided to indulge him a little and so you sat across from one another at the bar, slowly sipping at your individual drinks.
charles had only taken his eyes off you for less than two minutes and when his eyes sought you out, he saw red.... seeing you sitting across from a man at the bar, he wasn't happy and despite you deciding to be a little tease with your choice of dress tonight he trusted you like he had never trusted any other girl before and so he let it go until he watched the guy slip his hand onto your thigh, caressing the skin like he owned you but he didn't, charles did and he was going to make sure that this prick fucking knew that.
"let me get you another drink" brad asked, hand still running along your thigh, little did he know that if he didn't remove it soon he would no longer have a hand and if the intimidating presence behind you didn't give away the fact that brad was fucked, the hand that soon wrapped around your throat should have been a dead giveaway, charles tilted your back to look into your eyes "don't you dare" he practically growled.
"you say yes and i will not be gentle with you" brad's hand slipped from your thigh "i didn't know you were taken" brad stated, trying to defend himself "i'm not" you mumbled, still gazing into charles's eyes and as your words hit his ears, he tightened his grip around your throat.
"lets go" he growled, pulling you off the bar stool and into the bathroom of the club, you'd barely made it in the door before charles pressed your back into the cold tile wall, his hand once again wrapping around your throat and holding tight as you struggled against his hold "stop wriggling" he demanded, his breath hot against your ear as he pressed a little tighter causing black spots to form in front of your eyes, as he watched a tear slip from your eye he eased back a little loosening his hold but not completely letting go just yet "your mine so all those guys can fuck off and leave you alone"
"i'm not yours" you reminded him and he gave you a look that told you that you'd picked your words poorly "yeah, well i'm going to fucking make you mine douce fille" and with that he dropped to his knees, hiking your dress up and around your hips, he dragged the fabric of your panties to the side drooling at the sight of your wet little pussy, if you asked charles in a public setting what his favorite thing about you was he would say your eyes but if you asked in private, he wouldn't even give you a verbal answer and instead just drop to his knees in front of you.
"no, we can't, not here" your fingers tangled in his soft locks, pulling at it to try and distract him from his current mission of wanting to eat your pussy until your legs gave out around his head and your whole body was trembling from his touch but your words met deaf ears as he spit into his hand before rubbing his fingers along your folds, grazing your clit with every pass he made.
"your fucking crazy" you whispered as a shiver ran down your spine due to charles's touch on your clit but also at the idea of being caught in such a compromising position in public, oh how you could see the headlines now.
"FERRARI'S GOLDEN BOY CAUGHT IN ROMANTIC TRYST!"
it was only a few seconds before charles's mouth attached to your pussy, licking through your folds to suck up every last drop of the juices you were currently leaking all over his pretty little face like an alcoholic who'd gone far too long without a drink.
his fingers gripped tightly at your thighs making sure to leave little bruises that he could kiss better later. when he slipped his tongue inside, you shuddered above him, hands pulling at his hair but he never ceased, this man was starving and he was going to feast.
you couldn't help but gently rock your hips against his tongue which caused his nose to brush against your clit causing the most gorgeous friction that had you tilting your head back as a low moan slipped past your lips, fingers tugging at his hair as he smiled against your folds continuing to eat your pussy like a man starved.
you were reaching your peak and fast, you always did when charles ate you out like this, you hips began to move faster against his tongue chasing the pleasure he gave you but right as you were on the edge of pure bliss he pulled away and the sight you saw as he gazed up at you was down right erotic, his cheeks, lips, nose and even chin wet with a mix of your juices and his saliva, the perfect mix in his mind.
his pupils were wide and his mouth hung open as he panted, his warm breath hitting your thigh as he gently nibbled at the skin sending even more shock waves zapping up your spine, he scrambled up your body, hands pulling at his belt desperate to get his hard aching cock inside of your tight little cunt.
"why'd you stop" to say you were pissed was an understatement, he was not about to leave you high and dry again "i'm sorry" he rushed out, he knew that if he was to keep lapping at your dripping wet pussy like the feral animal he was any longer that he would cum in his pants right then and there.
"i was going to cum in my pants" he chuckled, connecting his lips to yours for the first time that night, you moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue, his kiss was sloppy and desperate causing spit to coat both of your faces.
when you pulled away you couldn't help but smile at the sight, charles cheeks were flushed and warm from the heat radiating between your bodies, his eyes wide and your lipstick was smeared across his lips and chin "so fucking pretty" you murmured, thumb running over his bottom lip as he pulled his aching cock from the confines of his jeans.
you squeaked as he picked you up, practically manhandling you as he wrapped your legs around his waist and plunged in without warning causing your head to slam against the wall behind you "fuck" you gasped "be gentle" but he was far from gentle in this moment as he thrusted in and out of you at an unnatural speed that had your head spinning.
if anyone were to walk into the bathroom in that moment and catch you, you'd have looked like a pair of rabbits in heat from the way you were going at it.
you couldn't help but bite as his shoulder, teeth digging into his skin and drool soaking his shirt in an attempt to keep quiet but the sound of his hips slamming against yours would give you away before any moans did, the sound was wet and sticky as your hips slammed together.
a sharp pain hit you as charles fingers threaded through your hair and tugged forcefully so that he could kiss and bite at the delicate skin of your neck, marking you has his own personal fucktoy, no other man would ever fucking touch you again, not on his watch.
"you wanna come inside me joli garçon, you want me to make you a daddy" charles groaned against your shoulder at the words you whispered in his ear, a million fantasies coming to mind in that moment but pushed them all down in order to focus on you and the pleasure he was making you feel.
when he felt your pussy clench around him, his hips came to a halt, body shaking with pleasure as he released ropes and ropes of his sweet hot cum deep into your tight pussy that still clenched around his cock, milking him dry.
charles's lipstick stained swollen lips pressed against yours as you swallowed eachothers moans, his hand snuck down and started to rub at your clit, pace fast and rough, he was desperate to make you cum around him and when you finally did, juices gushing around his cock, he couldn't help but cum again at the feeling.
when it was all over he pulled his head from the crook of your neck as you both panted "holy fuck" he breathed out "that was the best fuck we've ever had" he darkly chuckled.
"i never knew you were a biter" you giggled which caused your pussy to clench around his cock again, a small shot of cum shooting out.
he slowly and gently let you down and as he kneeled down to pull your dress over your butt, he couldn't help but lean forward and lick a stripe up your thigh "fuck, it's dripping down your legs" his tone of voice told he was proud of the work he'd done.
he had fucking bred you and god did he want to do it again and again until it stuck and you were round and pregnant with his baby.
"your fucking mine now you petit diable"
you couldn't help but laugh at his words "little devil huh"
oh yeah, you were his own personal little devil and a fucking hot one at that.
"yeah, my little devil" he chuckled, lips pressing against yours sloppily once more, you both couldn't help but smile against eachothers lips,
"lets get the fuck out of here" he suggested, tangling your fingers with his own "why, you going to breed me again" you joked not knowing how fucking right you actually were.
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aamircoeur · 2 months
Text
just distressed (still not a damsel) ー ultraman, ken sato.
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ultraman getting to know his damsel as kenji sato, the baseball player.
SEQUEL. PART 1.
sfw, female reader. UNEDITED.
you smiled at the chef and sat down on a stool, looking around to examine the place. it was clean and the lighting inside was warm, and the place had a lingering smell of fried eggs and soy sauce, which you really liked.
it was seven in the evening and you were at tonkatsu tonki for dinner, as per ultraman's suggestion. you had small chats with the chef as he made your order, with you being the only customer that he had as of the moment.
a few weeks have passed since your lengthy chat with japan's superhero. although you had been in the scene when yet another kaiju attacked this week, you weren't as involved as the previous times, which made you sad about not having the chance to talk to ultraman again. it was for the better, though, you thought. the poor guy sounded like he needed all the rest he could have.
he handed you your bowl of tonkatsu and poured water to your glass. while you were talking to the chef, a replay of this morning's baseball game was playing on the television that hung on the wall of the restaurant. you took a peek every now and then whenever the chef made reactions about the game, making you curious. "are you a fan of baseball?" you asked, taking a bite of your tonkatsu.
you got to know the chef for the past thirty minutes that you've been in the restaurant. he's a sarcastic man who genuinely cared for the food of the customers and their well-being, saying that his regulars had been coming in and out of his restaurant for more than twenty years.
"huge fan. i used to watch the games held in tokyo dome with my daughters," he said, his eyes never leaving the television. "but they've grown older, and we only watch together when they're free."
you hummed in response. "i was a huge tigers fan, and my daughters were even bigger fans of the giants." he laughed, and you smiled at him. "what about you? you like baseball?" he asked, wiping the spatula that he used.
you drank water to help you swallow your food before answering. "ah, not really. it never really piqued my interest." you said.
in the middle of your conversation, a group of rather tall men walked into the restaurant, greeting the chef before sitting down, who only waved his hand at them as he focused on his conversation with you.
"what do you mean it never piqued your interest?" the chef echoed, his eyebrow raised in a rather animated way which made you laugh at him.
"i-it just never crossed my mind much."
"baseball never crossed your mind much?" the chef asked in disbelief. "it's the best sport there is! don't tell me you're one of them basketball people."
"i have nothing against baseball. personally, i just don't like it. it looks fun though!" you explained yourself.
"you hate baseball?" the chef asked in front of you.
"i donー"
"you hate baseball?" the guy who sat near your stool chimed in.
"i don't!" you said, rubbing your cheek to show light-hearted annoyance.
the chef looked at you and faked a scoff, before walking to the group of men further from you to ask for their order. you laughed at him and sighed before drinking from your glass of water.
"so," the guy from beside you called out. "what was the "you hate baseball" argument with the chef?" he asked, taking off his sunglasses before hanging it at the front of his shirt.
you smiled and playfully rolled your eyes. "what i was saying is that i don't hate baseball." you said, taking a bite of your food after. "it's just not in my area of, uhm, interest or expertise."
the guy chuckled, running his hand through his jet-black hair. "i don't think i've ever met anyone who told me that they don't like baseball."
"what is it with guys and baseball?" you joked.
"hey, everyone likes baseball." he responded. he reached out his hand in front of you, offering a handshake. "i'm kenji." he said.
you accepted the handshake and held his hand, shaking it. "i'm [name] [surname], pleasure being baseball buddies with you."
"don't think that us being baseball buddies would work, considering how you don't like baseball," he joked with a forced frown on his face.
you groaned and he just laughed at you.
kenji ordered his usual and kept quiet, listening to his teammates as they debriefed the game that they had earlier. he was happy to have a close friendship with each and every one of them after struggling with adjusting to moving back to his home town two years ago.
but what made him the happiest is this restaurant, and seeing you in it. the night after his talk with you downtown, was the only time that he got a good night's sleep the whole week despite him getting only five hours.
not in a million years would he admit it, the chances of seeing you during a kaiju attack was the thought that made him feel light on his feet and eager to protect the city (to see you). but to his surprise (he was bummed the whole day), he didn't catch at least a glimpse of your [color] hair, but it was fine, he thought.
he didn't need to see you all the time, he thought. that would be greedy and desperate, he thought. your safety is what matters, it's a good thing that you weren't near another kaiju attack, where he had the chances of talking to you again, he thought.
"so, were you near the kaiju attack last week?" kenji asked.
why the fuck did he ask that.
you looked at him and tilted your head. "uhm," you said, chewing on your food and swallowing it as your facial expression questioned the weird conversation starter.
great, kenji. now she probably thinks you're a freak, he thought.
on the outside, kenji was as cool as ice with his unbothered look and relaxed body language. but internally, he was on his way to drive his motorcycle off mount fuji.
"i was near it, actually." you said, drinking your water. "i was a few streets down from the kaiju, so thankfully i didn't have any trouble getting to a safe place."
kenji sighed out of relief, thankful that you were safe, and that you didn't seem to think of him as a freak. "that's good," he said.
"funny you mentioned kaijus," you said. kenji looked at you with shock in his eyes, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
did you figure it out . . ?
"i've recently gotten my old apartment building ruined by one just a few weeks ago." kenji sighed.
"oh, i'm sorry," kenji said and you just waved your hand to let him know that it was okay. "how are you holding up?" he asked.
"alright, i guess. the landlord was kind enough to give us back two months worth of rent back for the inconvenience and exposure to danger. i guess the kdf offered their aid to him." you said as you continued eating your meal.
kenji hummed. "what about you?" you asked, placing the back of your forearms against the table counter, your elbows brushing against his.
kenji took notice of this and cleared his throat. "i haven't been near one," an obvious lie. "there was one time when a kaiju attacked the arena that i played in, it was gigantron, i think?" kenji said.
"oh, that's unfortunate. glad to know you're safe." you said.
"oh, no, i'm really not. the kaiju now holds me hostage in my own home."
"huh . . ?" your eyebrows knit together in worry, your [color] eyes staring into his purple ones.
kenji stared back into your pretty eyes and felt warmth on his cheeks. he looked at how your expression says that you believed every word he said. kenji covered his smile with the back of his hand and laughed, squinting his eyes.
you immediately frowned at the joke and gave his shoulder a soft punch before taking another bite at your food.
suddenly, the lights of the restaurant started swinging and flickering. you felt the ground shake and you looked at the people in the restaurant, before locking eyes with kenji once again who gave you a worried look.
a speaker that came from the street alerted everyone of the happening. "this is the kaiju defense force. evacuate the area immediately." the speaker repeated.
the roof of the restaurant broke, a red-colored foot piercing into it. you heard the people that kenji came in with shouting as they guided to help each other scurry to exit the building. as the others left, everyone was divided and you were with the chef and three other people. the chef led you all to the back exit of the restaurant and you all ran into the street, gathering with the other people in the neighbouring buildings who went out for their safety.
"are you all okay?" the chef asked, beads of sweat forming on his forehead from the sprint.
you gasped for air, trying to ease your breathing as you threw him a thumbs up.
"kenji and the others went out into the street to where the kaiju is," one pointed out.
another held onto his shoulder and gave him a worried look. "i'm sure they're alright." he said.
the crowd talked amongst themselves while the tmpd (tokyo metropolitan police department) made sure that everyone was okay and that the injured were provided aid. ultraman appeared as always, his glowing eyes acting as the sun in the cold night.
after an hour, ultraman had guided the kaiju back to where it came from. the kdf gave the tmpd the green signal and told all the civilians to go home for the night, asking those with the damaged properties to stay behind to discuss insurance and such. you bid farewell to the chef who asked you to stay safe before he was guided by the policeman to talk in an office.
a man tapped your shoulder and bowed farewell to you along with his mates, hoping for your safe travels. they were the people you were separated with in the restaurant. you greeted them good bye and started walking home.
alone again, you sighed to yourself and rested your hands in the pockets of your jacket.
this was probably the first time that you were dangerously near a kaiju attack without talking to ultraman, you thought.
turning right into a dark street, you saw a big motorcycle parked on the side as you were about to pass it, and before you knew it, a huge being emitting a beam of light was falling from the sky.
what the fuck?!
you covered your face with your arms before it landed to spare yourself from accidental blindness, and you were surprised to lower your arms just to see the man that you met earlier at the restaurant instead. "little ma'am?" he called out, eyes widened as he panted.
you stared at him with complete shock visible on your face. "kenshi?!"
taglist: @ttulipwritezz @c-losur3 @saeyari @taleiak @spencerrxids
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moondirti · 4 months
Note
Hellloooo🖤 I’m the anon who asked about the Safehouse story!
My brain, unfortunately, is not nearly as wrinkly as yours so I cannot come up with creative ideas like you 😂 BUT! I have a few ideas? Maybe? If you can call them that lol.
Was the spanking the first physical interaction they had? What did the morning after that look like?
What happens if reader has a nasty mental health episode & tries to hide it from Ghost?
Does the pet thing progress? I think we all know that Ghost has a thing for the pet play. I don’t even care, that’s totally canon for me at this point.
Would you ever consider writing about the general dynamic they have? Like the “rules” Ghost might have for them?
Totally and completely a self indulgent ask from someone who just had to pull themselves out of a nasty mental health episode lmao I’m so sorry please ignore this if it’s annoying or dumb!
shh i love all of these. i have so many thoughts now / prev
cw: dubcon d/s lifestyle. petplay. controlling behaviour. possessiveness. panic attacks. toxicity. noncon collaring. financial manipulation. mention of self harm. brief fluff.
Your thing with Simon is hard to contextualise.
Or even understand, really.
Parts of it are welcome. He asserts himself in a way you haven't found in the nobodies you've hooked up with previous, happy to fuck you dumb if it means you'll surrender yourself completely. Which you do. You listen intently and follow every direction he gives in bed, and as a reward he wrings orgasm after orgasm from your squirming body. You cum more in one week than you have in the past month, never not naked and sore, wrists tender from where he anchors his hand to keep them pinned above your head. You hear puppy more than your own name, at this point. And it's a concerning because– Well...
You don't mind it.
But you still don't like him.
It isn't like you necessarily need to like your partners in order to have a good time, but it certainly helps if you can tolerate them beyond a dick-in-hole condition. Simon is an anomaly in that he is the worst person you know, whilst also serving as the best lay you've ever had.
That is to say, his habits haven't changed. He's a fucking terror to live with. Nightmare flatmate, the type you see strangers complain about on reddit forums or hear in a friends story from their sister's husband's cousin. Not something you would take seriously until you live the experience – now existing as a sore, precautionary tale you'll no doubt be pitching to anyone also considering subleasing their place as a safe house.
Perhaps it's made worse by the sexual element you share. Before, he had just been your average perverse man, stealing clothes and walking in on you in the bathroom. Now, it seems that sleeping with him has given him the go-ahead to push that behaviour to an extreme. He'll pat your ass while you go about your business, or tug your hair when you raise your voice. Treats you like a pet that has yet to be debarked; just a silly, sub-human way of entertainment.
You can't help but feel you enabled it. But no–
The pet play is cute when he's drilling your brains out – and perhaps only because you can't think straight enough to raise concern – but you're not a dog. Nor do you want to be treated like one throughout all hours of the day. The onus is on him for not catching the hint.
But of course, accountability isn't in his lexicon.
Things only get worse from there.
"An' where d'you think you're going?"
You're halfway out of the door when he catches you leaving.
If you had been more iron-willed, you would slip out and scurry away before he can continue whatever spiel he has stirring. Instead, it's instinct to shrivel in on yourself, clicking the door shut before turning to face the behemoth waiting in the foyer.
"Out." You huff, intent on cold-stoning him. But it's a fools game when your opponent in the broad-shouldered lieutenant – for he merely cocks his head, waiting your silence out with more silence, and it's all you can do to bite your tongue against the deluge of excuses that pile up. "My mates thought it would be a good idea to catch brunch. Y'know– to celebrate the start of summer break. It's a nice day out so..." You gesture to your attire, like you have any reason to justify a sundress to some man you are in no way committed to.
But you can read the possessive gleam of his eyes as they take stock of your appearance: from your expensive mules, up your moisturised legs, to the low cut of your décolletage. It's easy to connect it to that look he had when you came back home that fateful night, the look of warning before he'd taken you over his lap and slapped your ass raw.
And for some odd reason, you're compelled to dig yourself out of trouble.
"Hm. It is a nice day, innit?" You nod a bit too quick. He stalks closer. "Lots of people out." Your nod is a little less enthusiastic. He's centimetres away now. "Some bad, bad men too."
He lifts the ends of your dress, slowly. Your next words quiver on their way out your chest. It's alarming to find that they don't sound nearly as assertive as you intend for them to be, not like they do horny.
"Where are you going with this?"
Your skirt pools around your hips now, held up by one hand as the other smooths over with the gusset of your panties.
"You plan on lettin' them have at this puppycunt? Have I not been givin' it enough attention?" He mockingly coos, pressing harder against the mound between your legs. Your knees grow weak. Not of your own accord, but weak nonetheless, and you have to hold onto his wrist to keep yourself upright. "Is tha' it?"
"N-No–"
"No? But that's what they'll think seeing you walk around like this, silly thing. Poor, neglected mutt, they'll say. Don't have a firm hand to keep 'er in line." Simon tuts, releasing his grip on your dress to pull something out of his back pocket. With the way he crowds into you, you can't crane your head to see what it is. "Now we can't have tha'. I spoil my girl rotten, wouldn' you say?"
"Yes. Yes but–"
"No buts, pup. Have ta stake my claim on you somehow." Something clicks. All too suddenly, you're made aware of the new weight on your neck. It tightens against the column of your throat – not enough to constrict your airways, but enough so that it hinders the way you move. "There we go. So pretty like this."
Panic seizes you, the steel fist of paralysis capturing your muscles in a vice-like clutch. Even as Simon pulls away, you're almost scared to find yourself in the nearest mirror. Scared of what you'll find dangling between your collarbones. There's no mistaking the textured leather that presses against your skin, nor the soft clink of metal hanging from it. No fooling yourself that this is all some cruel joke, not with the sick leer of satisfaction that warps his face.
Stumbling, you navigate to the bathroom and blindly turn on a light.
That cruel fuck.
"Simon," Your voice is devoid of the anger you feel roaring through your veins, circuiting through the frenzied stutter of your heart to find new passion. Instead, you sound horrified. Near hysterical, choking on your own pleas as you run back to the foyer. Your hands tug at the collar clasped around your neck, desperately searching for a buckle that will aid you in ripping it off, despite seeing the lock latched right at the centre that tells of its permanence. What's more, he had it engraved with a crude variation of a dog collar tag. If lost, leave alone. Or else count your days. "S-Simon, Simon please. Fuck– take it off. Take it off, take it off! I don't want this, I don't want... This isn't funny. I'll change if that's what it takes. Please."
Snot bursts from your nose, cheeks wet with a hot mess of tears. You can't suppress the hiccups that interrupt your begging like pathetic shots to the chest, or the weak hits you beat across his pecs. If you could, then perhaps he would give your tantrum more weight.
As it stands, you're nothing but a feral creature resisting training.
"Shhh. Pets can' speak. Pets don't cry." His thumbs press to your under eyes, tamping the flow of brine that mark steady tracks from your lashes. "You'll ruin your makeup like this."
"Si–"
He stare hardens into something dangerous. Against your better judgment, you clamp your lips shut.
"That's it. You're s'good when you listen to me, pup." Once he's sure you've stopped crying, he removes his thumbs to instead push one into your mouth. You can taste the salty residue of your tears on his fingertips. "Now, this is the bes' of both worlds, see? You can go see your friends with this on. I know pets need their playtime, af'er all."
You arch your back in protest, but all that does is bring you closer to the lieutenant. He misinterprets that entirely, of course, and a small smile breaks his face like you've agreed to his terms. A heavy palm pats your ass.
"S'jus' so you don't forget who you belong to." He chuckles. "An' if your friends like the idea, then I have a few friends for them."
You make it one block before hightailing back home.
Nothing in you wanted to give that bastard the satisfaction, but he made it so that whatever you chose to do – stay home or leave wearing a symbol of his ownership – he'd end up triumphant. Naturally, then, you opted for the lesser of two evils: to leave his vicinity immediately. Besides, you'd promised your girls you'd see them after going AWOL the past fortnight, and you knew you'd get an earful if you decided to reschedule at the last moment.
You thought you would convince them it was a bet. That the collar is just some silly joke you have to bear for the day after a football match didn't go in your favour.
But you make it one block before a tradie on his lunch break catcalls you (you about that freaky ting, beautiful?) and decide to change course completely.
You arrive back at your flat without further incident. Ego stung from the various odd looks you received on your way, but nothing as egregious as being singled out as a freak in the midst of a crowd occurs again.
Still, your hands shake as you push your key into its slot.
Which progress to full body tremors as you turn it in place.
Thankfully, Simon isn't waiting on you on the other side of the door. He sits, manspreading on the couch instead, focus zeroed in on the telly that broadcasts Fulham v Man City. When he doesn't look away, you allow yourself to hope he hadn't heard you come in. But it's a naive pool to place your faith in. Nothing escapes the man, and soon enough, his tone of humoured indifference shatters the silence you've been precariously trying to keep.
"Miss me 'lready?"
A wretched sulk, pit of anger hollowing out anew. You swiftly snatch your laptop from the breakfast bar before storming to your room, making sure to lock the door firmly behind you.
The website is bookmarked. Taunting. Sublet your home as a safehouse for our armed forces. Serve your country and help soldiers find refuge. You would laugh if you weren't so single-minded, typing in your email and password upon being prompted to. You don't have to deal with this shit any longer, nor do you intend to. If you remember correctly, there had been a way to report any problems you face. If you phrase yours right, you might just get Simon pulled from your services.
Good dick be damned.
But when you hit enter to sign in, an error message blinks in red.
Account does not exist.
Which is fine. Shit like this happens all the time. There's no reason to work yourself into a panic, you probably just used the wrong email.
So you try your alternate. Account does not exist.
It feels unlikely, but maybe you'd created it under your school email to give yourself credibility. Only–
Account does not exist.
Your blood pressure is no doubt sky high by now. Other symptoms of stress already start to wrack through you – blurry vision, chest aches, difficulty breathing. Your hands sweat excessively as you dig for the customer care number you're sure exists somewhere, efforts impaired by the ever-present weight of the collar around your neck. You wonder if Simon can smell your anxiety like a predator does its prey. If he's in the other room, salivating, waiting for you to wobble out of your room to go for the kill. Some part of you – a needlessly paranoid part – rests on the conclusion that this is somehow his fault too.
Your phone already rings in an outgoing call once you blink back to the present. While you've been functioning on autopilot, you must have found a number to call that related close enough to your issue.
And your suspicion is confirmed when an automated voice picks up. You are currently... second... in line.
It takes five minutes. When a placating woman speaks up amidst the nauseating music they have queued, you can hardly contain yourself from word-vomiting onto her. Safehouse signup. Lost account. Need to report an issue. Please. It's urgent.
"Okay ma'am. If you could give me your name, I'll be happy to find the source of your problem today." You can't spell it out any faster. "Alright. One moment, please."
"O-okay." You sniffle miserably.
"I see. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems that you've been pulled from the program after a complaint was lodged against you. Unfortunately I can't provide more detail than that, but if you need anything else, I would be happy to assi–"
You hang up. The poor thing doesn't need to hear the incensed scream that tears from the deepest parts of you, or the following crack as you chuck your cell at the wall. She'd done what she could. It isn't her fault. It was that self-serving bastard that had you blacklisted from the only thing keeping you financially afloat. It is that that self-serving bastard that continues to occupy space inside your home, despite having no real right to it now.
The tantrum isn't near cathartic enough to unfetter you from your prison of aggravation, and you continue to take it out on everything in your near radius. Your duvet and pillows. The lotion you keep by your beside table. Your own skin, nails piercing into the soft flesh of your palms.
And especially the collar constricting your throat, like vines that tighten at the first sign of struggle.
You have to get this collar off. Even if you fail at everything else, you have to get this collar off.
Scrambling off your bed, you turn your room upside down looking for a bobby pin or a knife. One is unquestionably the safer bet, but you know you'll sit for hours trying to pick the lock that keeps you shackled – so when you find the boxcutter sitting at the bottom of your junk drawer, you immediately take it to your neck.
Just as Simon barges into your room.
You're so far gone, you don't even question how this must look to him. In fact, it doesn't occur to you that you locked your door, and that the only way he could've gotten in is by having a replica of your key. No. You merely twist away from the all-encompassing hold he wraps around your arms, determined to keep the boxcutter away from his confiscation until you can slice through the leather.
But you're crying. Visibly, alarmingly unstable. And Simon's breaths are a little faster than normal, faltering in a way they only do when he's close to climax. He must be worried, which is a funny thought, seeing as he's the reason you're in this mess.
"Alright thas– that's enough of that." He grunts after managing to pry the blade from your hand. You hardly mourn the loss, rather crumbling in on yourself as your sobbing escalates. No longer frustrated, nor determined. Just primed into a suffocating panic attack.
Somewhere in your auditory periphery, you hear the clinking of glass. It doesn't register until he holds a vial of lavender extract you keep under your nose, forcing you to inhale the medicinal aroma. Soon enough, your mouth opens to swallow gulps of unscented air alongside it, and the imposed breathing exercise calms you to a point of blubbering calm.
(For someone so apathetic, you admit he handled that expertly.)
That isn't the end of it, though. Moments later, you're lifted off your feet. He cradles you in both arms as he makes his way to your bed, sitting up against the headboard and placing you on his lap. Safe. Undisturbed.
You say nothing, pressing your wet face into his shirt. For comfort, first and foremost, but the makeup that'll undoubtedly stain the white fabric is an added bonus.
"Know this is hard for y'to understand, pup." Simon begins. "Hard for you ta wrap your head around ownership after bein' alone for s'long. I won't punish you for tha'."
"Y-You don't own me." You accuse.
He shakes his head in response, like your mind is truly as little as he claims. Like you're a dog, complete with two ears and a tail, and he plucked you off the street on the condition that you heel.
If anything, he's the stray.
"Oh, but I do." A large hand rubs circles on your back. Never have you been so conflicted, so torn between leaning in and biting back. "Just don't see it yet, pet. Bu' you will, in time. And in the meanwhile, we'll establish some ground rules to help you adjust."
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hysteria-things · 6 months
Text
TREEHOUSE
based off of this, this, this, & this
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!nate x virgin!sls!reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: reminiscing your relationship with nate where it all started: in his treehouse.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, FLUFF, swearing, p in v, praising
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,181
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: day ONE of nate week!
so pumped😇
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creaking from the wooden panels of nate’s treehouse sound from underneath your shoes. some would say treehouses aren’t for nineteen-year-olds, but your boyfriend will strongly disagree.
it still stands after almost two decades, hundreds of memories made here with him and your older brothers. it’s been a while since you’ve been up here, but even if he doesn’t admit it, you can tell nate still hangs out from how tidy it is.
“you still have the pirate hats.” you giggle, pointing to them neatly placed on a shelf above the small sofa he has against the wall.
each hat matched your personalities, with your names written in your favorite colors. they’re faded by now, but you can still make the writing out.
christopher. matthew. nicolas. nathan. y/n.
your brothers are wonderful with you dating their best friend because nate liked you for years. ever since you were children; and he never gave up on you.
summer break is a kid’s favorite time of year. the sun is shining, the nice weather, hanging out with your friends day by day. it’s great.
four boys bicker in front of the ladder, and a young y/n is sitting on the porch steps playing with her dolls.
“dude, just ask already!” chris argues, holding a fake pirate hook in his hand.
“yeah, what’s taking so long?” nick chimes in.
matt’s arms are crossed over his chest. “he’s got a little crush on our sister, that’s why.”
“i do not!” nate yells, eyepatch over his eye and his pirate hat lopsided. he stomps his feet in a tantrum-like manner. “girls probably don’t even like playing pirates!”
they bicker for seconds more, until matt’s had enough and pushes the boy toward you. he hesitates, but walks to the stairs. “hey, y/n!” he exclaims, taking a seat next to you.
you smile, setting your toys down. “hi, nate.”
“would you— um…” he turns to the triplets, and they motion him to hurry up. he sighs, looking back at you. “would you like to play pirates with us? there’s an extra hat.”
bringing your finger to your chin, you think and then nod. “sure! i’d love to play pirates!”
nate grins from ear to ear, grabbing your hand and leading you toward your siblings.
that’s not the only heirloom hidden in plain sight. the screws are still stuck in the wall where the NO GIRLS ALLOWED sign used to be until you guys started hanging out alone and he threw it away immediately.
there are still old decorations from previous years, like the spongebob blanket or the mario and luigi plushies. as he got older, though, the decorating became more mature.
another core memory is when he asked you to be his girlfriend right where you’re standing. well, he tried to ask, but he couldn’t get the words out.
“can i ask you something?” nate questions, refusing to make eye contact as he fidgets with the gaming controller in his hand.
you nod. “of course.”
“so, um… do you want to, uh—” he stammers as your eyebrows furrow in confusion.
“what do you mean?” you giggle.
“um, y’know. do you want— uh, to be— um—”
“are you asking me to be your girlfriend, nate?” you ask, smirking while raising a brow.
his face heats up, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah.”
the sound from the small TV completely fades, your inner thoughts taking over instead. now, it’s nighttime, and the fairy lights in the treehouse make the room dimly lit.
your head rests on his chest, his heartbeat soothing to your ears.
even though you guys have been together for a while now, you’ve never done it. hell, you’re still a virgin. nate’s been patient with you every step of the way. “what’re you thinking about?” he asks.
shaking your head to snap out of it, you look up, already seeing him staring down at you. “nothing.”
he knows you’re lying, and patiently waits there until you sigh. “i’m ready.” you start as he listens intently. “i want to… have sex… with you.”
he smiles warmly, taking a piece of hair and placing it behind your ear. “are you sure?”
nodding, he then starts to lean into where his lips ghost yours. “yeah?” he whispers, your eyes set on his mouth, so badly wanting to kiss him.
the softness of his lips syncing with yours has your legs squeezed together. he leans more in, deepening the kiss while also laying you flat on the cushions. your knuckles turn white to how hard you’re gripping on his shoulders when he starts to remove your pants and underwear.
“you’re tense.” he points out, rubbing the outside of your thighs in a soothing motion. “relax.”
you didn’t realize how tense your body was until he pointed it out. taking a deep breath, he starts to untie his bottoms.
“breathe for me, okay?” he reassures, lining himself up before slowly moving his pelvis forward. it hurts for sure, but it’s more of a pressure feeling. “relax.” he says again, feeling your anxiety.
a pained moan leaves your lips once he’s in, and it just hits you that your childhood friend, who turned into a crush, and is now your boyfriend is inside of you. “you okay?”
you nod, taking his hand in yours. “i know you tell your brothers everything but—” he cuts himself off with a groan when his dick twitches, desperately wanting to move. he starts to thrust his hips slowly, low whines tickling from your throat. “for my own sake, don’t tell them about this.”
his thrusts get gradually faster, but they’re soft so he doesn’t hurt you in any way. the pain soon turns to pleasure, arms wrapping around his neck. he keeps asking if you’re okay every two minutes, so to shut him up you kiss him passionately.
“nate.” you exhale, licking your lips and lifting your head slightly to look at where you’re conjoined. his dick is coated with your juices, the slap of your thighs banging together.
“nathan.” you moan louder, throwing your head back and arching.
“you’re letting me fuck you so well.” he grunts when your walls clench around him. “you’re so pretty; i love you so much.”
your eyes widen in surprise. it could be the intensity of the moment, but that’s the first time he’s ever said those words. “i-i love you too.”
clenching again, your legs twitch with each movement of his hips. “i-i’m going to cum.”
he pecks your forehead. “go ahead, baby. you’re doing so good for me.”
you whimper, your orgasm flowing out of your pussy and onto his base. he fucks you a little more through your high, before pulling out and painting your stomach white.
whispering sweet nothings into your ear, he lays on top of you, rubbing his hands all over your body. “i meant what i said, by the way. that i love you.”
you smile, blushing at the same time. “so did i.”
that’s when you realized your relationship will only blossom from here, all because of this goddamn treehouse.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2 @sturnsjtop @luverboychris @yapperchris
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aestherin · 7 months
Text
KEEP MY HEART
goal 20: home
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“What the —“ Heizou stopped in his tracks as soon as he got to the field. “Did I get the time wrong? I could’ve sworn the practice was scheduled after lunch.”
Underneath the scorching sun, there Scaramouche was, alone on the field. Heizou did not know what he was supposed to feel — should he be proud or worried that his captain was still playing his best despite not having any opponents? Not teammates, even. On that soccer field, it was just Scaramouche, the ball, and the goal.
He merely sighed.
“Scara!” Heizou called out as he approached the bleachers. The indigo-haired boy then looked at his direction, only acknowledging the other’s presence with a nod before going back to his practice. “What a snob,” he teased loudly.
“Shut up, Shikanoin.”
Heizou sat down as he starts preparing to join Scaramouche. While putting on his cleats, he looked around.
One of the large water containers meant for the soccer team was almost empty, even though they just refilled it to the brim after the previous practice they had. Scaramouche’s towel hang on one of the seats’ back, drenched in sweat. His sharp eyes then trailed back to the lone man playing on the field, whose shirt was almost made see-through due to being wet.
‘Just how long has he been playing here?’ Heizou thought.
As soon as the whole team, together with their coach and her good friend (a certain literature professor) arrived, the real practice commenced. From warm-ups, to drills, even up to practice games — Scaramouche was always there with them. He did every single thing that the whole team did. Even though he already did them more than a hundred times earlier.
Around dusk, Scaramouche was already reaching his limit. His plays were still impeccable, but his own body could not keep up with his own thoughts. He was panting, his legs almost at the brink of failing. His whole being was shaky and unstable. And for a second he stayed idle, crouching and bending his knees as he tried to catch his breath.
"Kunikuzushi," Ei called.
"Coach?"
"You're already tired?" The woman's voice was laced with disappointment. Despite being the star player's mother, she could not spare her one and only son the humiliation. Scaramouche scoffed inwardly. 'She really had to tell me off within earshot of the whole team.'
Scaramouche was about to retort, but shortness of breath stopped him. Instead, it was Heizou who responded to their coach. "Coach Ei, maybe we can let him take a break. Scara's been here practicing since early morning. He must be fatig —"
"I'm not tired," Scaramouche stood up straight. "I can still play."
"Dude." Aether uttered.
Ei merely stared at him before blowing the whistle once again, signaling that the game resumed. Scaramouche however, no matter how hard he tried, failed to last much longer.
"Scara!"
"Captain!"
Every player in the field stopped what they were doing as their captain fell and laid flat on the grass. He was desperately gasping for air while clenching the fabric of his shirt tightly. All of them thought it was because he was catching his breath, but no.
It was primarily because he was frustrated with himself.
His mother stood near them, her friend beside her. "You're clearly overfatigued, Kunikuzushi," Ei remarked. "You're still lacking stamina and endurance."
Scaramouche, still on the ground and short of breath, put his right arm over his eyes. He could not help smiling bitterly. 'When did I ever not lack anything, mom?'
He chose not to say anything.
"Practice for today is now over."
Scaramouche's teammates expressed concern for their captain, while his two bestfriends helped him up. The whole time, they could not read the man at all. He did not say anything, nor was his face expressing anything.
All they knew was that he took what his mother said to heart.
Meanwhile, Ei and her friend Yae remained on the soccer grounds. The purple-haired woman was looking after everything, making sure that the team did not forget anything or did not leave a mess. Her friend merely seated on the benches with her legs crossed.
"You know, Ei," Yae said as she was boredly checking her nails. "You're a little too harsh to your boy."
"You know that I have to be."
"Of course, of course. I do remember what happened to your sister, and believe me, I understand where you're coming from. I know you just want to protect your son."
Yae stood up and headed towards her friend. "But you know, the way you are doing it, I don't like your approach."
"I am doing this for his own good," Ei insisted.
"If you say so."
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KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau
previous . masterlist . next
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SUMMARY — you find plenty of guys around you attractive, but there is only one you’re willing to make the first move on: the guy you first saw during your older brother’s soccer game. spoiler: he's a player from your rival university.
TAGLIST I (closed)
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cannibaled · 6 months
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wicked game
to be honest, i just knew i wanted to finally write something with felix. so i just started writing and this is what happened so, hopefully you like ! 🥹 —
☆ warnings: none, slight nsfw — just making out, ass and thigh grabbing, hickeys
☆ premise: jealousy.
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being felix catton's girlfriend was most comparable to riding a rollercoaster blindfolded.
your dynamic was interesting and unique, and everchanging. at times, he was the wolf, mouth watering and snarling as he cornered you, his prey. a bunny. vulnerable and stripped helpless with nowhere to go. at times, you would be the wolf, but instead of hunger compelling all of your senses, it was instead jealousy. what made this dynamic worse, arguably, was that he was unaware. you would be upset, or even angered after a girl practically threw herself at him. he was a natural flirt, but would react kindly but withdrawn. he would stare at you with his big, brown, puppy dog eyes when you were frustrated and prepared to speak, but nothing ever came out. instead, you would brush messy chocolate curls from his freckled forehead and press a rouge kiss to his tanned skin, the red painting him beautifully. then, that starved wolf would suddenly morph into the sweetest little dog you've ever seen. prancing up happily and licking slobbery kisses into its supposed prey.
you knew you couldn't keep things bubbled forever. considering he was popular and you often attended parties together, it grew difficult. it started to become so stressful that even farleigh or venetia couldn't offer advice any longer. farleigh spoke his mind, as usual, telling you to just suck it up and talk to felix, but part of you felt like you would burden him.
alcohol burned your throat, fiery eyes watching the scene before you. he was practically surrounded by women, a swarm of a horny, desperate ocean attacking his person in waves. you began to think. was he really all that unaware?
you briskly looked away when his bright hazelnut eyes met yours, his cute, gap-toothed smile making your heart singe. as safely and quickly as possible, you stumbled off, pushing through hot, sweaty bodies towards the bathroom. surprisingly, there was no line - save for one person, who was able to get in as soon as you arrived. leaning against the vibrating, booming walls of the hallway, you huffed softly. you should be able to talk to him about anything. truth be told, he was your best friend, and, hell; to a certain extent, you could talk to him about anything. but it was difficult for you to admit you were jealous. that, you couldn't understand why. maybe it was because it would be something affecting his social life. were you afraid of sabotaging that?
the sound of a toilet flushing and the shrill squeak of the door opening pulled you from your thoughts, and you rushed into the bathroom. ignoring how your shoulder grazed the previous user's, you locked the door after yourself and did your business. scrubbing at your hands until your skin was raw, you avoided looking at yourself in the mirror. you knew you probably looked a mess, and, frankly, you didn't need to see such a sight right now. twisting the lock on the door, you pulled it open, only to be met with large, warm hands on your shoulders. you cried in confusion as you were pushed back into the bathroom once more, the door slamming shut and clicking locked.
felix stood before you, a red cowboy hat hanging lazily from his head. you two stared at each other for a minute until his lips stretched into that cute, toothy smile of his.
"so this is where you were," he drawled lamely, his accent soft.
"you had to have known, considering you were waiting for me."
he clicked his tongue and stepped towards you, and you unconciously stepped back, until your lower back made contact with the hard, cold porcelain sink. his fingers grazed your sides, and he lifted you easily onto the sink, long digits playing dangerously with the hem of your short dress. your noses brushed one another, and despite your annoyance, you wrapped your arms around his neck. there he went again, cornering you. not only cornering you, but he was sure to get a bite. it was difficult for you to stay upset when he was in an affectionate state like this.
"you seemed upset." he mumbled softly. his breath smelled of alcohol and mint - which you assumed was from the gum he carried around. you remember asking him about that once, in which he just grinned and held up his pack of smokes. cotton mouth, you recalled.
"yeah, well." you responded avoidantly, hooking your legs around his hips and yanking his body closer to yours. he was warm, skin damp with sweat and hot to the touch. you knew it was from dancing. "you seemed quite busy hanging out with your groupies there."
felix's eyebrows raised in surprise, his hands gently squeezing the soft flesh of your thighs. "you're jealous? love, you know they're just friends."
"c'mon, felix. you know they want you." you whined, and you could tell he was biting back a chuckle.
"well, that's too bad." god. you hated when he talked like that. coolly, and without a care in the world. he was always good at defusing situations when his temper wasn't present. maybe he knew just how likable he was.
"i just don't like that you let them hang on you like that. follow you like a bunch of lost puppies. they think they have a chance because of shit like that. i can't stand it. i want to be able to spend time with my boyfriend at parties he brings me to."
he was silent, letting you vent your frustrations. his half-lidded gaze met yours, long lashes fluttering as he searched your eyes. you assumed he was watching for tears, so he could pounce onto the opportunity of comforting you and wiping them, or kissing them away. he was sweet like that.
"i admit, i know they flirt or whatever. and maybe i flirt back. sometimes. but, i belong to you. they'll never be my (Y/N)." you weren't satisfied with his answer, your eyes narrowing. and he knew you were still angrier, if not more than before. but, then, he pressed his soft lips to yours, capturing them in a desperate kiss. you could taste the nicotine and beer on him, and although you wanted to yank his hair in retaliation for his stupid fucking excuses, you kissed back.
it was heated, clumsy, passionate. his teeth grazed your flesh, allowing blood to seep through the wounds he inflicted. his tongue swept it away before tasting you properly, the sweet tase of iron clouding your senses. when he pulled away, you assumed he was finished - instead, he pressed feverish kisses along your neck, yanking your smaller frame into his with possession. "brand me," he breathed against you, and just when your mouth was about to part and your eyes flutter, they opened wide in confusion. "huh?" you gasped when he grazed a sweet spot in your neck with his teeth before pulling away, his pink lips darkened with small traces of your blood and swollen. "brand me." he repeated, slipping his hands under your skirt. he didn't dare touch the warm desperation between your legs, instead pressing his fingers into a bruising grip on your upper thighs and ass. "show them who i belong to, darling." you swallowed, manicured nails grazing the nape of his neck.
the thought of it alone was exciting. they knew already he was yours, to an extent, but once they saw him bruised up and pretty with marks caused by you, you knew that'd be the end of it. because, while felix catton was known around oxford for hookups, it was rare for him to allow his fleeting girlfriends the pleasure of giving him hickeys. it was always the other way around, him marking them up with lovebites and bruises on their thighs. for however long he pleased, they belonged to him. never him, to them. but now, he was yours.
so, you did just as he requested - because how could you deny him when he was nearly begging you? finally gripping his curls, you latched your lips onto his neck as if you were starved. he threw his head back to allow you more space and access to your canvas, and you happily painted him red and blue. deep, shaky groans reached your ears, rewarding you for your work. he was always so pretty. his moans and gasps were never an exception when it came to beauty. sex and intimacy with felix was like appreciating art, because he often looked like a painting. no matter where, or what time of day. his muscles would flex, his skin glowing warm and his lips parted. if you had the skills, you would properly copy him onto a canvas or piece of paper and officially, truly, make him your muse. you knew that there was no way physical art would do his beauty justice, though.
you stopped when your lips began to feel sore, instead sinking your teeth into his skin for one final gift.
"fuck," he all but whimpered. and though his voice was deep and he was still bigger than you, you knew were now the wolf. he was the putty in your hands now, bending and softening from a simple weakness.
you pulled away and admired your work, slipping your hands from his head, to his neck, and then, finally, his cheeks. your thumbs brushed along his flushed skin, and when he opened his eyes, you saw nothing but love. his pupils were dilated and his eyes sparkly, and if you didn't feel so dizzy with affection for felix, you would have cried. you placed one last kiss to his pretty lips, and he slipped his fingers from under your dress to cradle your back.
your kiss was cut short with an angry bang on the door, and you jumped away from your boyfriend, smacking his broad shoulder when he laughed.
"guess we kept 'em waiting." he teased cheerfully, gripping your thighs to help you off of the sink.
"okay, ladies first."
"you suck, lix."
"rather," he corrected, carefully guiding you towards the bathroom door with a hand on your back. "if we can make it out of here and to my room, it'll be you instead."
before you could shriek at him out of embarrassment, he opened the door for you and delivered a playful smack to your bottom, paying no mind to the annoyed stranger that stared at him in disgust as they walked past.
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hqbaby · 4 months
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seven — i have a secret
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mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader
⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.
previous — masterlist — next
word count. 2k content. profanity, FEELINGS FEELINGS FEELINGS
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You met Satoru by chance. Or at least that was what you thought until he confessed three months into your relationship that he’d devised the whole thing.
“You’re not serious,” you said, gaping at your boyfriend. “You couldn’t have planned that.”
The two of you were sitting in his car, seats reclined backwards as you shared a bag of fries and passed a milkshake between one another. The speakers were blaring a hodgepodge playlist the two of you had made, one you’d both added all your favorite songs to with no rhyme or reason that resulted in an eccentric mix of ‘90s rock, rap, and—courtesy of Satoru—Britney Spears’ entire discography.
Things were so much simpler then. Better.
“I planned it all!” he told you, laughing as you continued to stare at him in bewilderment. “I had a massive crush on you, what else was I supposed to do?”
“I dunno,” you gestured frantically, “maybe talk to me like a normal person?”
He snorted. “Please.”
“Please what?”
“You wouldn’t have given me the time of day!”
You gasped in faux shock. “I totally would’ve!”
He pointed the fry he was holding at you in wild accusation. “You turned down everyone who asked you out,” he said, all matter-of-factly. “Desperate times call for desperate measures, princess.”
You shook your head, grinning now as your boyfriend stuffed a handful of fries in his mouth. He’s such a boy, you thought.
“Let me get this straight,” you said as you sat up, placing your hands on your lap. “You took a class that isn’t even in your curriculum, purposely bumped into me after a game, proceeded to tutor me for a whole month just to ask me out?”
He shrugged, beaming proudly at his apparent job well-done. “What can I say? I’m a mastermind.”
You tossed a fry at him as you laughed. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I believe ‘amazing’ is the right term,” he said, sitting up now too. He leaned in towards you and brushed a strand of hair from your eye. Quietly, he added, “And you were totally worth it.”
His lips met yours and you swore that if you died right then and there, you’d have died happy.
What a shame it all had to end.
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Your neighborhood is safe. Well, that’s what you tell yourself when you go rogue—against all of Maki and Nobara’s insistence and all your empty promises—and decide to go on a run in the dead of night.
You don’t usually take this kind of risk, resorting to early morning jogs before class or training, but you couldn’t sleep anyway and the tournament is coming up soon. You’ve never been one to half-ass anything, so you have no intentions of half-assing this. Safety be damned. You’ll run if you want to run.
The streets are still as you make your way around the block. You circle the park, the cluster of houses, the apartment buildings. There’s a convenience store that’s still open—you wonder what it’s like to work there, to tend to an empty shop. Maybe it isn’t so bad a life. Maybe you wouldn’t mind winding down in your old age and owning a 24/7 convenience store. Maybe you’ll have grandchildren by then, but that would require children and you don’t necessarily want to think about that just yet.
You distract yourself with the different sights, the mindless thoughts, the grocery list of things you need to buy the next day—anything to not think about the fact that you’re absolutely exhausted and could pass out at any point in your run.
You haven’t slept much since that brief reprieve afforded by Sukuna’s company a few days ago. You’ve gone to classes, dutifully attended meetings for your organizations, religiously beat your body into perfection in training. At this point, you’re just running on auto-pilot.
You wonder when this will ever end.
You circle back to the convenience store and your foot—so tired, so susceptible to minor inconveniences now—catches on a stone on the ground. At least you have enough foresight to land your ass.
It’s then that everything crashes down on you. You can do nothing now but sit on the ground and wearily massage your legs as you wait for the last bit of strength to return to you, just enough to make you get up and walk home. You just sit there, on the pavement of a dark street, fully aware that it’s probably not a good idea but also fully aware that you don’t have it in yourself to care.
You pull your phone out of your pocket. There’s a text from Maki asking if you placed the orders for the shirts you’re selling at the children’s rights fundraiser. Right. You forgot to do that. There’s a text from Kento asking if you have notes from that one class the two of you share. An email from Yuki with the details of the tournament. A meme from Sukuna, an image of a clown with the accompanying message “u.”
Then there’s the text you’ve been avoiding.
satoru <3 : can we talk sometime?
You should really change his contact name.
And it’s like the universe hears you. You don’t know if you’ve ever fully bought into the whole “the universe is listening” thing, but you might just become a full-fledged believer, because as soon as you look up from your phone, you find a figure walking through the shadows towards you.
A random straggler maybe? A murder with an axe? One of those zombies that keep chasing you in your dreams?
You know who it is as soon as the first bit of light from the dying street lamp hits his hair.
Satoru.
He’s walking with his hands in his pockets, head hung low like he’s tired or thinking or both. It takes him a while to even register your presence. It’s only after you put your phone away that he looks up, alerted by the slight movement.
His eyes meet yours. Blue piercing straight into you, like he can see your thoughts. Like he can read your mind. You always suspected he could.
“Hi,” he says.
He’s standing a few feet away from you, close enough to take in your weakened form but far enough to run away if you decide to lunge forward and strangle him for whatever reason.
You lift your hand, a tiny wave. “Hey.”
His eyes scan your body, already checking to see what’s happened. He notices your legs spread out on the pavement, the bags under your eyes. You look okay, though, he thinks. Not in any immediate distress.
“What are you doing here?” he asks. His voice is unsure, afraid of entering the realm of familiarity, uncertain if you want him there.
You shrug, “Oh, you know. Just seeing the sights.”
He nods. “Right.”
“You wanna sit with me?”
The question isn’t so much said as it just flies out of you. A natural thing, to pose this question. Akin to asking about the weather, akin to how you used to tell him you loved him. Exactly what was expected, exactly what it should have been.
His answer is just as expected too. “Sure.”
Satoru steps closer and crouches down to sit in front of you. He sits cross-legged, placing his hands on his knees as he looks around hesitantly.
“It’s really late,” he says.
“I know.”
“It gets dodgy here at night.”
“I know.”
“You shouldn’t be out by yourself.”
You crack a smile at that. “I’m not alone now, am I?”
Satoru looks at you incredulously before smiling too. “Maki is so gonna kill you if she hears about this.”
“Then don’t fucking snitch,” you warn him. Your words are harsh, but your tone is light. Easy. “I’m already in hot water with her.”
“What did you do?” he asks. He relaxes a little, placing his hands behind him and leaning back. “Did you lose her sweater again?”
You roll your eyes. “That was one time.”
“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head. “I remember at least four times you came to me all panicked because you didn’t know where it was.”
“To be fair, half of those times I was just looking for an excuse to talk to you.”
He raises a brow. “You’re kidding.”
“Not,” you tell him. “You’re not the only one who made shit up to talk to their crush.”
The two of you laugh, remembering that horrifying period of time before you got together and routinely embarrassed yourselves for one another. 
You know this whole thing, laughing on the street with the boy you broke up with less than a month ago, should feel wrong, at the very least awkward. But it doesn’t. When you look at Satoru, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles, you can’t help but remember just how much he meant to you. Maybe just how much he’ll always mean to you.
Satoru shuffles closer and says in a low conspiratorial tone, “I have a secret.”
You pretend to look around, check to see if anyone is listening. Then, you ask him, “What?”
He moves closer until his face is just inches away from yours. And he says the words you already knew he was going to say.
“I miss you.”
You let out a breath.
“I miss you too.”
You both lean forward, close enough to feel his breath on your lips, but not enough to touch his. His hand reaches for yours and squeezes it, holds it to his chest. There’s comfort to his touch, a familiar warmth. One that you’ve loved for a while now.
“‘Toru,” you say quietly.
“Yeah?”
You wonder if he can hear your heart pounding through your chest. You suspect that you can hear his.
“We can’t do this.”
His eyes flicker to your lips. You can almost read his mind. Why can’t we?
But he pulls back and so do you. He lets go of your hand, nodding as he takes his warmth away with him. There’s disappointment in his expression, but also a deep understanding. A deep knowledge that this isn’t right. You can’t do this.
You wring your hands and turn your gaze to a receipt on the ground. It lists a very specific assortment of things: a pack of cigarettes, a bottle of water, some lube, and a teddy bear. It must be Valentine’s Day somewhere.
“You’re good, right?” you find yourself asking. “With… Kimi.”
Satoru hums. He’s avoiding your eyes too, lost his footing in this whole interaction just like you. “Yeah, we’re good,” he says, words leaving a pit in your stomach that you try to ignore. “And you’re good with him?”
There’s a venom in the way he says the last word. As if he means to say, you’re good with him—him of all people. The scourge of the earth, that’s probably all Satoru can think about when he even considers the idea of Sukuna.
You nod. “We’re good too.”
Satoru’s eyes search yours and you do your best to hide the fact that you’re lying. You already know what he wants to see. He wants to see that you’re miserable without him.
That you made a mistake.
He doesn’t find what he’s looking for, so he just clears his throat, looks away, and says, “Good.”
You pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around them. Suddenly, this whole thing feels like the kind of wrong it always was.
“You should go,” you say.
Satoru shakes his head, standing up and dragging you up with him. “I’m taking you home.”
“Satoru, it’s fine—”
But he won’t hear it. He’s already holding your hand and pulling you in the direction of your apartment building. As much as you want to, you don’t necessarily have the strength to argue with him, so you let him lead the way, one painful step after another.
When you get to the front of the building, Satoru drops your hand and motions for you to head inside. “Get some sleep.”
You turn to the door, then you hesitate, looking back at him. “Satoru.”
“Yeah?” His voice is soft, like he’s worried it might scare you away.
“I’m sorry,” you say.
His eyes widen just a bit as he tilts his head. “For what?”
You swallow. “For everything.”
You don’t expect him to smile, but he does. It’s all gentle and sweet. It’s exactly the way he’s always looked at you. The way he probably always will.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, princess,” he says. “It’s just the way things are.”
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notes. if there’s one thing i know about me when i’m writing my love triangle fics, it’s that i refuse to let either side go down without a fight 😌
ALSO FINAL REMINDER THAT THIS SERIES HAS SMUT, so minors sincerely fuck off please, i'm not responsible for what you consume online.
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punkitt-is-here · 1 year
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Read These Frequently Asked Questions Before You Send An Ask!
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Patreon | Ko-Fi | Youtube
Heyo! I get a TON of asks each day, so I'm making this post so that folks know what's already been asked so my followers don't have to see the same stuff over and over, haha.
Hi! I'm Punkitt! I'm a game developer, artist, editor, director, and a bunch of other stuff! I'm working on an RPG called Astral Guard, a platformer called Susan Taxpayer, and I have a couple more fun projects in my pocket like Happup and Super Mario Death Row.
Did you know you look like weird al?
YES jesus fucking christ i get told this every day. if u send me a message in my inbox saying i look like weird al im killing you with like wizard spells and shit.
Why do you have so many hats? Do you know you have that many hats?
ye i like hats. :) free tumblr badges for one pea i like one piece and took as many as i could. free.
Where can I find your art/game development/horsecomix?
Great question! Everything I make that's my own and not a reblog is under "my posts", every bit of art I do is under "my art", any game development I do is under "gamedev", you can find all my MLP art under "mlp, my art" or "horsecomix" for the best stuff. I also have an "animations" tag and a "shitposts" tab. I also properly tag all my asks to be asks and write out the asker's name, so if you don't wanna see those just mute the ask tag.
Do you have a Patreon or a Ko-Fi?
I do have a ko-fi here! I also JUST launched a Patreon, which you can find here :)
What do you use for your art?
I use FireAlpaca and Paint.net for misc. effects!
What are you using to make your games?
I use FireAlpaca do make my assets! Astral Guard, Happup, and any other top-down RPG games I make are all made in RPGMaker 2003. Susan Taxpayer is made in SMBX2 Beta 4, a Mario fangame engine with lua support!
Why are you using a 2-decade-plus engine to make games?
It's fun!
Do you have a sideblog or something for your art?
Not right now! What you see is what you get. I do have a sideblog for Astral Guard though, if you want to follow that game specifically! @astral-guard
Can I make an OC based on your work? ABSOLUTELY!!!!!!! THATS THE COOLEST THING EVER!!!! LET ME KNOW IF YOU DO!!!! I WANNA SEE!!!!
Can I do dubs/redraws of your comics? As long as you credit me! I get a ton of notifs each day, so if you wanna show me (and PLEASE i so do wanna see fun dubs and redraws!!!) tag me or DM me!
Can I use your art as a PFP? Sure! Just credit me somewhere. :D
Are you the one who trapped her coworkers in a room and made them listen to TF2 lore?
Yep! Everyone had a blast actually. :]
Did you make that comic where Fluttershy eats the weed brownie/Rainbow Dash has a male living space/someone has a cutie mark that says they'll kill Ronald Reagan?
Yep! That's me.
Where are you in MLP right now?
Currently just finished Season 7! Haven't watched the movie yet.
Have you watched Equestria Girls?
Yep! Thought it was super cute. I watched up to Rainbow Rocks and plan on watching more.
What's your opinion on MLP so far?
I love it! I think it's cute. I really don't agree that there was some sort of huge quality drop after season 2 or whatever.
What do you think of G5?
Not my style! I don't really like either animation types and it just seems like I'm not in the audience anymore. That's totally chill, but it just doesn't grab me!
Have you watched any other MLP stuff from previous generations?
Nope! But I did see a compilation called Minty Being Autistic for Six Minutes Straight that I loved. she's perfect.
Favorite pony?
Don't got one, I love all the Mane Six a LOT, but I'm particularly fond of Fluttershy, Applejack, and Rarity!
Favorite episode/season?
I'm so bad at picking favorites! But any season past Season 1 I have a blast with because I feel like it's just more my style. I don't have a favorite episode, but the most recent one I can remember LOVING is the one where Starlight bottles up her emotions because it was REALLY funny.
Do you like Pony.mov?
Nope! And stop saying my stuff reminds you of it, it's a lil annoying!
Have you watched the Mentally Advanced Series/Friendship is Witchcraft/Other fandom vids?
Probably not! My interaction with the MLP fandom prior to last year was pretty minimal, so I'm making my way through the show first!
What do you think of Fallout: Equestria?
I think it's super weird but really fun because of that. I've never properly read any of it but it's very fascinating to me.
Are you transgender?
Yep! I go by she/her, I'm a trans woman. Have been for many years, but I only recently came out online!
Are you a lesbian?
Nah, I'm bisexual!
Can I commission you?
Yeah! I only have my commissions available on my Ko-Fi at certain times though, so keep an eye out! I usually announce slots being open at least 12 hours beforehand. Slots are usually first come first serve, but we'll see.
Can I use your art as a Discord emote?
Yeah man i'm not scouring every discord on the planet to find stickers of my work. i think it owns if people take my stuff and make it stupid injoke emotes between friends that makes me very happy.
Can I send you an ask inquiring about gender dysphoria?
I feel like this is beyond my capabilities of advice! I'm actually very comfortable with my body and I have been for many years, so I don't know if I can give any good or helpful advice on that front. Apologies, but there are many resources out there where you can ask about those things if you look for them, like Discord channels!
Favorite Color?
I'm a sucker for blue!
Favorite coffee?
Can't drink coffee, my stomach is cringe.
Favorite tea?
I'm lame and can't drink most tea but I love this one orange-flavored tea a lot. I also LOVE ice tea.
Can I say you're horsegender/punkittgender/a little gender goblin void thing?
Well, I can't stop you, but I'm kind of beyond that phase now! I really am a boring ol' plain she/her girl, and I like it that way. It's not much, but it's honest gender.
What's your favorite game series?
Mother, Kingdom Hearts, Mario, and I USED to say Fallout, but I found out I'm really only a big Fallout New Vegas fan.
Favorite game from those?
Mother 3 is one of my fave games of all time! I love KHII, and I'm tied for SMB3 and SMW. Also Fallout New Vegas fucks hard.
Any other favs?
Bug Fables, SLARPG, and TF2!
Favorite Movie?
Everything Everywhere All At Once, no question.
Oh, are you going to college?
Yep! I'm a film/theater major.
Do you have a YouTube channel?
Yeah! Click right here for it, I stream there and upload footage of my games/animations/my film projects + other stuff.
What is that little orange creature I see?
That's bweenop, my little persona that I use when I'm feeling a little scrunkly.
Do you have a ponysona?
Yep! Her name is Star Magnolia, you can search her on the blog to see art of her.
When will Susan Taxpayer/Astral Guard/etc. be out?
No clue! I take things slow, that's just how I am.
How do you work on so many things at once?
I make small, satisfying amounts of progress! I never try to complete one giant thing all at once, I just like doing small bursts of fun stuff. I got ADHD, so I learn to work with it.
Did you know you look like Weird Al?
Im going to run you over with a clown car watch out
WHY do you work on so many things at once?
Fun! I like learning, I like making cool stuff, and I like showing it to people :)
Do you need any help with your projects?
Potentially! I'll probably put out a post asking for help if I need it.
If you could be a horse, would you?
You kidding me? Several ton beasts with the frailty of a sickly Victorian boy; my clumsy ass would never survive.
Are you some sort of...furry?
yeag
Why do you reblog so much?
Brother I LOVE posting. that's just how it is.
Fav music artists?
It changes literally ALL the time but I will recommend ANYTHING by Vylet Pony, its music is incredible and probably the reason I'm a weird niche microcelebrity now.
Why are you like this?
theater kid + having a lot of fun on the internet makes you a bit silly hehe hoo
SUSAN TAXPAYER QUESTIONS
Is it out? Not yet! But hopefully sometime in the next year. I dunno! I take things at my own pace and keep stuff fun. :)
What are you using to make it? SMBX2! It's a free fangame engine for Mario episodes, but it's incredibly versatile and has a wonderful community, so I decided to make Susan Taxpayer in it.
Is there a demo? You betcha! You can find it right here. I'll also probably put it up on my itch.io.
How do I install it? I made a post here about how to run the SAGE '23 demo!
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lovverletters · 1 year
Text
Yandere! Male Lead
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Note that this is a reupload from my previous blog @hyerinrose
A/N : this took so many hours to finish Aghhh. Reblogs, notes and Feedback are appreciated!
T/W : death, yandere behaviour, etc
•┈••✦ 🎀✦••┈•💌•┈••✦ 🎀 ✦••┈•
💌 You woke up in an unfamiliar place. It wasn't the bedroom of your friend whom you had fell asleep in. The only memory you had of last night was falling asleep next to your friend's laptop while they were playing the new visual novel 'Flightless Dove'.
🎀 You couldn't have possibly experiencing those 'transmigration' thing in one of those isekai manwha/manga! Those aren't real! At least that's what you thought..
💌 Looking at the full body mirror across from the bed, you let out a sigh of relief. You still have your own features and body. However the picture frames on the bedside table reveals your identity in this new world you have been thrown into,
(Name) (Last Name), best friend of the protagonist and the heir to (Last Name) Corporation.
🎀 With this information, you recount that despite them being a side character, their story is unnecessarily tragic.
You were determined to change their fate.
Routes under the cut!
💌 Choose your route :
🍓The Fiancé 🍓
❣️Yandere! Fiancé whom you were incredibly wary of when you first met him. He was a terrible partner towards the original host, neglectful and rude towards them. Later, falling in love with Celine, the female lead and killing them to be with her.
❣️Yandere! Fiancé who you approached with caution, intending to be acquainted with him in order to hopefully guide him into becoming a normal human being. He was distant and closed off at first, shooing you off but eventually somewhat enjoys your presence.
❣️Yandere! Fiancé who finally begun opening up to you, sharing his troubles and worries with you, how angry he was at his parents for setting up this engagement without his knowledge. It's almost as if the two of you were actually lovers :)
❣️Yandere! Fiancé who falls in love with you, hard. The previous cold hearted man now replaced with a lovesick puppy who follows you around at any chance given. Always gifting you things he came across while on a business trips as a show of his affection. It's to also serve as his claim over you, that you belong to him, that you are his fiancé.
❣️Yandere! Fiancé who completely ignores the female lead numerous attempts at mingling with him. He's a faithful man, he had promised himself to you, so why should he tolerate this woman's presence any longer? Should he just kill her already? She's pissing him off greatly.
❣️Yandere! Fiancé who were envious of your friends, he wanted to be the only one you look at, the only one who you'd smile at and laugh with. Why are you giving away what's rightfully his to nobodies??
❣️"Promise me you'll never leave me, cause if you do, I wouldn't know what I'd do.."
•┈••✦ 🎀✦••┈•💌•┈••✦ 🎀 ✦••┈•
🍒The Childhood Friend🍒
❣️Yandere! Childhood Friend who's the only person you liked in the game as he's only one who stuck by the original host's side through thick and thin. Even attempting to avenge them after their death.
❣️Yandere! Childhood Friend who were surprised by your attitude towards him- not that he was against it- you were more animated and affectionate with him, it made his heart flutters everytime you complimented or gave him a hug. Have you finally reciprocate his feelings for you?
❣️Yandere! Childhood Friend who were in love with you ever since the two of you were kids. He was a loner that nobody wanted to befriend until you came along, suddenly there was a crowd of kids wanting to be friends with him. They don't matter to him though, in his eyes, you're the only friend he needed.
❣️Yandere! Childhood Friend who were incredibly jealous and resentful towards your fiancé! He was such a lucky man to be engage to you yet stupid enough to not see your worth. Can't he sees how beautiful and intelligent you are? How amazing you are compare to him??
❣️Yandere! Childhood Friend who were aware that he wasn't your only admirer. While he had been successful in scaring away your other suitors, the protagonist and even your fiancé weren't as easy. They too share the same strong feelings he have for you. And they weren't going to back down anytime soon.
❣️Though just like them, he too wouldn't be giving up on you. He was tired of seeing you with someone who's undeserving of you, who doesn't know how to treat you right.
❣️"You're the sunshine to my lonely self you know that, (Name)? I love you :)"
•┈••✦ 🎀✦••┈•💌•┈••✦ 🎀 ✦••┈•
⚘️The Protagonist⚘️
❣️Yandere! Protagonist who were the original host's best friend besides their childhood friend. He was your stereotypical main character, he was charming, attractive and powerful. Despite that, he still stuck around them until Celine came along.
❣️Yandere! Protagonist who you were determined to keep as an ally. After all the downfall of the original (Name) was because of a falling out between them and the protagonist. By having him as your friend, your chances of surviving this mad world is increased!
❣️Yandere! Protagonist who just like your childhood friend was surprised at your change of attitude towards him. He was used to your stoic and closed off self but was happy with your positive changes!
❣️Yandere! Protagonist who's feelings for you grow rapidly as days went by. He can't put a finger to what exactly it was about you that pulled him in. Was it your infectious laughter? Or your odd sense of humour that he can't help but adore you for? Your intelligence that never fails to amaze him?
❣️Yandere! Protagonist who were absolutely smitten by you that he ignores practically everyone including the female lead whom he's supposed to fall in love with. Nobody else is as important as you are to him. So why should he bother be around them when he can be with you instead? :)
❣️Yandere! Protagonist who despite his reputation as being kind and charming to others, would not hesitate to murder for you. Though he hasn't committed any, he is guilty of sending threats towards your other admirers. Unfortunately, your fiancé and childhood friend aren't as easy to rid of unlike like your other suitors.
❣️Too bad for them, he's not one to give up once he sets his eyes on something. He'll do whatever it takes if it meant that you'll be in his arms at the end of the day.
❣️"(Name), I hope you know how important you are to me. I love you now and forever"
•┈••✦ 🎀✦••┈•💌•┈••✦ 🎀 ✦••┈•
Part 2 coming soon?
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vivwritesfics · 9 months
Text
No Need To Ask
Chapter Twenty-Three - Without Him
The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.
But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.
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Series Masterlist
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Recap from a previous chapter:
Carlos's phone vibrated against his chest. He picked it up, reading the text. "What is it?" Y/N asked softly, gently. Carlos wasn't hiding the screen from her or anything, but the text was in Spanish and she couldn't yet read it.
"My mother," he answered as he replied to the message. She was okay, had been in contact with Carlos ever since she'd made it to Alonsos safehouse.
As much as the Sainz family and the Alonso family hated each other, they had an agreement in place. If anything happened to the Sainz, those who could get out were to get to Alonsos territory if they could. It worked both way, with the Sainz offering sanctuary for Alonso and his men if needs be.
Señora Sainz had made it to Alonsos territory. By the time she'd gotten there, the attackers had left Alonsos. It was in a state, everything broken, documents missing, just like Carlos's house.
Alonso hadn't escaped like the Sainz family had. He had a bookcase that he could hide behind. Once he was behind it, the bookcase looked bolted to the wall, unmovable. Nobody thought to look for Alonso in there.
When Señora Sainz arrived at the Alonso house, he took her and her daughters to his own safehouse.
While she was in the Verstappen Stronghold, Max was the only person Y/N spoke to. He was the only person who would speak back to her.
She'd heard the rumours growing up, that Max Verstappen was as ruthless and terrifying as his father. But she didn't see that. To her, Max was sweet and kind and definitely not terrifying.
He loved joking, loved making her laugh. Actually, he was the best company she could have asked for while she was waiting for her husband to return.
Max gave her the tour of the Verstappen stronghold. He showed her the library, the home cinema, Max's very own game room. That game room wasn't Y/N's sort of game room. There were screens and monitors on every wall, with every type of gaming console known to man. There was a cabinet full of board games, Monopoly, cluedo, battleships, and chess.
The two of them spent a lot of time in the games room, playing chess with him. Well, it was more like Y/N playing a game of chess alone while Max playing his racing games on his xbox and tried his best to talk to her at the same time.
It wasn't like last time, when Y/N was the newcomer in Carlos's house. She wasn't going to rot away in her room while she waited for her husband to return. Time would pass by quicker if she kept herself busy.
"So, you're pregnant?" Asked Max as he drove around the corner. His set up had a proper steering wheel with the foot pedals and everything.
Y/N looked up from her game of chess. "Did Carlos give it away?"
Nodding his head, Max concentrated on the game. But the bots he was playing against were all colliding into the back of him, causing him to retire from the race. "Actually, he said you guys are gonna name the baby after me."
She couldn't stop herself from laughing at him. "Somehow, I really doubt that, Max."
"Yeah, but think about," he said, turning in his gaming chair. "You could name it Maximus Sainz, which is probably the most bad ass name for a head of family, ever."
Y/N rolled her eyes. She and Max continued chatting casually in this fashion as he played his racing simulator and she played her game of chess. Day after day went like this, but she didn't get bored. Not while she was waiting for Carlos to return.
Max was her solace in this time.
***
When Carlos returned to Spain, he was incredibly scared for his own life, although he'd never admit it. He had a wife who he loved, a wife who loved him, and a baby on the way. It wasn't like when he was a kid and he could throw himself into the line of fire without a second thought. There were people who counted on him. People he wanted to be there for.
When he landed back in Spain, from what was hopefully his last ever commercial flight, he rented a car. His car was too recognisable now.
His driving was still smooth as he headed back to his house. Their house. The house they were going to raise their baby in.
As he drove, his phone buzzed. Carlos easily answered it as he continued towards the house, holding the phone up to his ear as he steered. "Hamilton," he said into the phone.
"Sainz. I am sorry to hear about your father," said Lewis. "I've heard from almost everybody but you that they have managed to recover. How are you doing?"
Carlos sucked in a breath. "They found us in the safehouse," he said. "I've had to send my wife away but I won't be saying where, if it's okay with you," he said and Lewis agreed. So, Carlos continued. "I am heading back to my house to rebuild," he said.
"Keep us informed," said Lewis.
Carlos hesitated before hanging up. He had just one question left for the head of all of the families. "Norris, is he okay?" He asked him.
"Yes," Lewis answered quickly. "He's tightened his security, just as all of us have."
Carlos hung up the phone. There was no goodbyes in the mafia family, they just stopped the call. Carlos pulled over to dial one more number.
"Y/N?" Said the person on the other side as soon as they picked up.
Carlos pulled back onto the road, driving towards the house. "No, Lando. It's her husband," he said flatly.
The noise Lando made was unrecognisable. "Where is Y/N? Is she okay?" He asked quickly, urgency in his voice. Clearly, he was panicked.
"Yes, Lando, she's fine. I've gotten her somewhere safe," Carlos answered. "But I need you to do me a favour and call Max," he said.
"He's right next to me."
For a moment, Carlos frowned. He'd just left Max in the Netherlands. What on earth did Lando mean? But then it clicked. He always seemed to forget about Lando's best friend Max. "No, the other Max," he said. "Verstappen. Give Max Verstappen a call," He said and put down the phone.
Carlos drove the rest of his way to the house in silence, just praying that Lando did what he asked.
He pulled up to the house, the gates shutting behind him. They'd have to go, he thought as he imagined a few more rows of wall and gates. It would all have to be completely fortified.
He abandoned his car and walked into the house. The doors were already being replaced by metal ones, ones that bolted shut and required a retinal scan to get in.
Carlos made his way up to his office. That was where all the controls would be. It had been cleaned up by his men since the last time he'd been there, his papers put back into order. There was a stack of receipts, the costs of fortifying the house.
He wanted guard dogs, too. They weren't his usual sort of dog, with Carlos preferring something small. But he'd get the biggest dog around if it meant keeping his wife and unborn child safe.
He checked his weapons, all of them still where he had left them. Aside from the few papers, the thieves hadn't stolen anything. It was so confusing, what they actually wanted from him. They hadn't stolen anything of value, just paperwork.
The thieves had only seemed to attack every other family once. But Carlos had been targeted twice. Why? What did they want with him?
He signed some papers, allowing construction to start.
***
"You!" Shouted Señora Sainz as she stared at Oscar. She grabbed a hold of Alonso's gun and pointed it straight at Oscars chest. "What do you think you're doing here!?"
Suddenly, Alonso grabbed a hold of the gun, taking it away from Señora Sainz. "Now, now," he said, placing it in one of the many desk drawers. "There is no need to resort to violence."
Señora Sainz grumbled and crossed her hands over her chest, glaring daggers at Oscar. "I'm sorry to barge in like this," he said, although his tone suggested anything but apology. "But I've got nowhere else to go. Y/N and Carlos have gone and I can't get back to Australia," he said.
"As Webber's boy, you're allowed sanctuary here," said Alonso as he stood up to shake Oscar's hand.
Oscar visibly deflated, like he was a balloon that had lost all of it's air. He suddenly realised just how exhausted and hungry and thirsty he was.
But, before he could ask Alonso for some food, Señora Sainz cut in. "What of my son and his wife?" She asked suddenly.
Unable to hold himself up anymore, Oscar sank into the nearest seat. "They got away," he said. "While we were being ambushed, Carlos managed to get her out. I'm not sure where they are now."
"What ambush?" Asked Alonso.
"Those thieves, the ones that broke into every house. They came for us in the safehouse."
Alonso frowned. He shouted something in Spanish and two of his men strode forward. Oscar recognised one of them to be Lance, on loan from Stroll in Canada. Lando grabbed a hold of Oscar and walked him through the house, promising him food.
Oscar allowed himself to be dragged along. If he didn't get something to eat soon, there was no way he was making it through the night.
***
Max's phone rang. He looked at the caller I.D, a smile gracing his features. He held a finger up to Y/N and ducked out of the home theatre, walking out to the hall to answer the call. "Little Lando Norris," he said, wearing a smile.
"You can't call me that now, Maximillian," Lando responded with a slight grumble. "I'm a head of family now."
Max rolled his eyes. It really was easy to forget that Lando now had as much power as his father did. It wasn't fair, wasn't fair that someone younger than him had to deal with such a burden. "What do you wan?" He asked, his voice still chipper as he leaned against the wall.
"Carlos said I should call you," Lando said, jumping straight to the point.
Max shrugged his shoulders. "Probably because I've got your sister here," he said.
Lando made another one of those unintelligible noises. "What?!" He cried. "What do you mean? Is Y/N in the Netherlands? Are you in Spain? Can I speak to her?"
Unsure just quite how to answer that many questions at once, Max walked back into the theatre and passed the phone to his house guest. She looked at her host in confusion as she took the phone and lifted it to her ear. "Hello?" She called, her voice unsure.
"Y/N?" Came the startled voice of her brother. "Is that actually you?"
"Holy shit, Lando!" She stood, walking into the hall as Max went back to watching the movie. "You're safe," she said. "You're safe, you're safe, you're safe!"
"I've been so worried about you! Why're you with Max? Where is Carlos?"
Their conversation was a jumble of voices, the both of them trying to talk over the top of each other. Y/N needed Lando to shut up and listen and he was rambling, clearly stressed. Y/N could picture him now, his tie knotted too tight, his curls a mess, sticking up in every direction from where he had been pulling them.
"I'm pregnant!" She blurted out when he wouldn't shut up.
That did the trick. Lando fell silent. "Lan, you're going to be an uncle."
"Well, that's great and all, but you haven't actually answered any of my questions," Lando answered.
It wasn't the answer Y/N had been hoping for, but at least he wasn't stressing anymore. So, she calmly and collectedly took him through the events that had ended with her in the Netherlands and Carlos back in Spain.
Lando had only interrupted her once, with a little cry of 'they ambushed you twice?!' but he quickly let her get back to her story.
"That's it," he said as soon as she had finished speaking. "I'm bringing you home right now."
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justwinginglife · 9 days
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I have had this on my mind for a while now. Fem reader was a cruel villain in her previous life and was reincarnated to the Kn8 universe and met Soshiro and well... In love :3
Go crazy my friend.
Forgive me, this could've been a whole ass series, and I was too lazy to make it one LOL. Also I changed up the prompt slightly so that reader has always been in the KN8 universe, just reincarnating through the years.
Of All The Ways To Die
You were dying and they’d cursed you.
The audacity.
For the crime of being a witch, you’d been bound, gagged, and condemned to be burned alive. As the flames devoured your flesh, as the heat ravaged your body, as the smoke filled your lungs, you thought you glimpsed the gates of Hell in your last moments. They were flung open wide for you, and the tortured souls of your past were waiting to claim you, impatient for your penance. If that wasn’t nightmare enough, the Hoshinas had the audacity to send you to your damnation with a final parting gift- they placed a curse on you. 
In this life and the next, in heaven and in hell, in purgatory and in limbo, in the span of every universe that could ever or would ever exist, your soul was cursed to an eternity bound to their clan. There was no world in which you could run or hide, there was only their infinite retribution. 
It was a cruel punishment to be shackled to the souls of your murderers, to have every life you could ever live ended at their hands, but you didn’t intend to go quietly. You intended to make this curse as torturous for them as it was for you. If they were going to sabotage you at every turn, you’d just have to make your death worth it. If they were the protectors of peace, you were the bringer of chaos. And you planned to make such a mess of this world that even a Hoshina couldn’t put it back together. 
If they were the heroes of this never ending saga, you were the perfect villain.
“I’ll see you on the other side of eternity.” 
Your malicious grin was the last thing they saw before the flames enveloped you. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You kept your promise in every life.
Even with no memories of your previous reincarnations, even with no knowledge of this everlasting curse, you left mayhem and madness in your wake. It was almost as though you couldn’t help yourself, as though evil were your second nature. 
And when another Hoshina arrived at your door, when they claimed yet another one of your lives, you found some satisfaction in your death, knowing you’d caused so much devastation as to warrant their intervention. 
As you succumbed to your fate, letting the darkness take hold of you once again, you wondered what trouble you could get up to in the next life. 
You found your answer in the form of the black market. 
In this technologically advanced age you’d now found yourself in, there was no room for witchcraft, for medieval villainy, there was simply give and take. And you took everything.
Before you knew it, you were the ruler over the black market. Every deal that was made, every secret that was whispered, every resource that was extracted, everything was yours to use as you pleased. In the span of a decade, you’d amassed an enormous empire. 
And Soshiro had no idea.
In every life you’d ever lived, one Hoshina or another would always find you at your most heinous, at the peak of your degeneracy. And then your life would end. 
But in this life, as though Fate had grown tired of this game, as though eternity was much too infinite for their liking, you grew up right next door to the Hoshinas. And Soshiro became your best friend.
For a while, his good influence was enough to corral most of your immorality on most days, but no one could help your greed or your ambition or your cunning. 
When he ran off to join the Defense Force, your competing ambitions pulled the two of you apart. You weren’t as pure as he was, you wouldn’t dare waste your energy on such a ridiculous profession; it was a noble one but still ridiculous in your eyes. Meanwhile he couldn’t think of anything better. Though his endless optimism should’ve infuriated you, it only made you love him more. He saw the world for how cruel it was and still chose to hope for better. And some part of you couldn’t help but wonder if he could see the same in you. But the allure of the underworld held more appeal than your one sided love and before you knew it, you were too focused on your schemes to spend time nursing your pining heart. 
When you did meet up with him on the occasion you were both free, he’d always tell you to do something with your life. He’d tell you to join him. He knew how strong you were, how smart you were, how driven you were. But he didn’t know that you’d already used those gifts to force every business and every back alley, every port and every parlor, into submission. Japan was a puppet and you were its master.
But every villain had their weakness, and it became harder and harder to ignore that he was yours. Looking back, you’d always had a soft spot for him. 
When you were kids, someone made fun of Soshiro’s hair and you shaved half their head off in return. 
When you were teens, he caught some teenager stealing from an old lady and when he ran after them to retrieve her purse, like the kind-hearted boy that he was, they punched him in the face. Before he could react, you broke their arm, like the cruel-hearted girl that you were. 
And it didn’t matter how old or young your opponent was- you were undaunted and unwavering in your punishments. Once, a teacher had failed Soshiro due to a personal grudge they’d held against his father, and you took a sledgehammer to their car. When the teacher threatened to involve the authorities, you simply smiled at him and dared him to call the cops, saying that the second you saw a siren, you’d release photos of his infidelity to the entire country of Japan. 
Even now, with all the power that you wielded, you’d use your influence to anonymously send supplies to the Third Division, to send food, to send weapons, to send armor. If you couldn’t be by his side, you could at least support him from afar. He didn’t have to know, he just had to stay safe.
When he messaged you, wanting to meet up again, you felt this was the perfect opportunity to make sure he’d been getting your gifts. You treated him to dinner at your favorite restaurant.
“How’s my favorite little entrepreneur?” He scooped you up in a hug. 
You slightly winced, remembering the lie you’d told him about opening up your own shop to get him to stop trying to convince you to join the Defense Force. You comforted yourself with the thought that, technically, you owned lots of shops. If lots of shops meant the entirety of Japan. You bet you could even buy the JAKDF if you ever felt the desire to. It was a tempting thought now that you were faced with one of their most promising soldiers, and if buying the JAKDF meant more time with him, you’d have to look into it. You’d forgotten how much you missed him. How soft you got when he was around. 
“I’m better now that you’re here.” You sighed into his shoulder.
He laughed. “Buttering me up, huh? Don’t tell me it’s cuz you’re tryna convince me to change jobs again.”
You pouted. “And what if I was?”
He ruffled your hair. “Then you’d have a hell of a time with it, because you know I’m not leaving the Defense Force.”
You crossed your arms and sulked. “You mean the shitty Defense Force that’s making you fight with nothing more than sticks and stones?”
He leaned forward, “Actually, we got this huge shipment the other day of brand new equipment. The very latest in Izumo tech. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that,” He tucked a hair behind your ear, “Would you?”
How was it that you owned thousands of casinos and still couldn’t manage a poker face to save your life?
He laughed, letting you off the hook for now. “Shall we order dinner?”
You grumbled to yourself about him being a tease and then buried your face in the menu. He smiled to himself on his side of the table. 
When you had a couple more drinks in you, he pushed the subject again. “So. It seems you got my text the other day.”
You took another sip from your cup. “Which text? You text me a lot.”
He grinned. “Touche. The one about my suit overheating.”
You raised an eyebrow, unsure where he was going with this. “Yeah, I read that. What of it?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh nothing. I’m just assuming that’s why I got a new suit delivered to me the very same day, one that can withstand my combat power for longer periods of time.”
You choked on your drink. “Well that’s convenient, good for you.”
He laughed. “Cmon. How long are we going to keep doing this?”
You cleared your throat. “Doing what?”
He poked your nose. “Pretending like you’re not the one sending me these things.”
You laughed awkwardly. “I’m not so rich that I can get my hands on the latest Izumo tech, Soshiro. You overestimate me.”
“Mmhm. Sure. Okay. Well, if you ever find out who is leaving me all these gifts, thank them for me, yeah?” He finished his food and got up to leave, “And give them a big kiss for me, would you?” He smirked as he walked out the door. 
What?
What did he just say?
Bastard.
“Soshiro! You asshole, you can’t just leave me hanging like that!” You dumped a couple large bills on the table, not even caring that you’d just tipped more than the meal was worth, and you ran after him.
He was laughing to himself down the street when you finally caught up to him. “So I guess business is doing good then?”
You glared at him. “And so maybe it is. What, I’m not allowed to send my best friend presents?”
He smirked. “Ah, so you admit you’re my secret admirer.” He bent down to whisper in your ear, “Or do you just want that kiss that badly?”
Before you could answer (you’re not even sure what you would’ve answered), he pulls you against him and presses his lips to yours. 
After completely devouring all your oxygen, he pulls away and murmurs, “Thanks. For everything.”
You’re so breathless you think you might choke on your own lungs.
When he takes your hand and whispers in your ear, “Now it’s my turn to treat you,” and then leads you to a ballroom that he’d completely bought out just so he could slow dance with you, you think you might cough up the heart that’s beating so rapidly in your chest. 
But of all the ways to die, you’ve decided this is the best way to go- in Soshiro’s arms.
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