#just like how there’s nothing wrong with those lovely eyes of yours

[ladyymiisa]

MONEY, MONEY, MONEY!

summary: your loving boyfriend who spoils you rotten!

tags: hawks x fem!reader, barista!reader, fem pronouns used for reader, fluff

author’s note: hi sexies!!! i literally can’t stop thinking about hawks spoiling his gf god i want him so bad

it’s no secret that hawks is rich. being a hero has not only given him popularity but also a paycheque that would make anyone’s eyes pop out if they saw the numbers on it. like, this man’s credit card is black. that’s how rich he is. and you’d think he’d try to display it, right? maybe by driving a really expensive car, like a ferrari or something, or by only wearing designer clothes.

haha, wrong.

for as wealthy as he is, hawks rarely spoils himself. perhaps he feels selfish to have all of this, despite how hard he’s worked for it. he tells himself that it’s because he’s too busy to actually relish in everything that he owns, that he has more important matters to focus on, but a part of him knows that they’re just excuses to make up for how hung up he is on the past.

the past of his criminal, alcoholic father and emotionally distant mother, the past of his abuse and how neglected he was. because of it, he can’t bring himself to actually enjoy the things others would kill for.

at least until he meets you.

he meets you and suddenly he finds a new purpose for his money, other than keeping it in his bank account to collect dust.

to spoil you, of course!

to me, hawks is more of a giver rather than a receiver and i will die on this hill. he loves to pamper you, shower you in the most expensive gifts known to man and take you on the fanciest dates. from designer shoes to jewellery that would cost you three years worth of rent, this man makes it his life mission to ensure that you only get the best of the best.

and at first, it all seems like too much. you’re just an ordinary civilian working as a barista, nothing special. you don’t consider yourself someone worthy of being hawks’ object of affection, but hawks, sorry, keigo makes sure to put a stop to those silly thoughts immediately. besides the expensive gifts, he also shows you daily just how much you mean to him, which is more precious than any pair of diamond earrings he could ever gift you.

for as busy as he is, keigo never leaves you hanging, no matter how busy he is.

showing up on your balcony late at night with a bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand if he isn’t able to visit you during your day shift, or washing the dishes for you if you’re too tired are some of the ways in which he shows his love.

and you grow greedy because of it. everything be damned, you slowly turn into a spoiled princess and it’s all his fault.

do you feel guilty about it? maybe just a little. but only because you no longer shy away from asking keigo to buy you stuff.

oh, look! a perfume you’ve been eyeing for a while just became available online? all you have to do is bat your eyelashes prettily at him and next thing you know you have a small package waiting by your doorstep the following day.

your favourite makeup brand dropped a new collection? surely he won’t mind if you get every product available.

hm? you’re still working at that coffee shop? well, not anymore! keigo can’t possibly have his pretty baby working herself to death when he’s right there to ensure that you’re living as comfortably as possible. after all, there’s no need for you to work! your rent is taken care of by him and his credit card is basically yours, so don’t worry your pretty head about such silly things! he’s got you covered.

but in the end, it’s not those gifts that make you fall asleep with a smile on your face at night. it’s his love that has your heart fluttering inside your chest whenever he gives you that boyish grin of his, it’s his love that leaves your cheeks feeling sore after he says such a horrible joke that you can’t help but laugh at. and keigo makes sure to shower you in his love every single day. he is a pretty generous man after all.

[mayadarlings]

I have bad baby fever so take this.

—★! Tags: Established relationship, baby? Afab!!

Ghost never thought about having children before. He didn't understand them; they confused him. Worst of all, he envied them. How could someone willingly bring a child into a world filled with so much chaos that men like him and the task force had to clean it all up? How could a child smile so innocently while his childhood was nothing short of a nightmare?

He didn't want kids.

That was until he met your niece, Lola. She had to stay overnight, interrupting the plans he made with the team. Johnny wanted to sit down and play a game of drunk poker, but upon seeing chubby little Lola sitting on the rug playing with her blocks, his heart practically melted at the sight.

"Lt., you didn't tell us the missus gave birth," Soap teased, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Ghost snorted, shaking his head. "She's not mine, Johnny. That's my niece, Lola."

The men exchanged amused glances, but their attention quickly turned back to Lola, who looked up from her blocks with a bright, toothy grin. She babbled something unintelligible and held up a block as if showing off her masterpiece.

Ghost found himself smiling beneath his mask, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through his chest. He wasn't used to this feeling—this softness. It was alien to him, yet he couldn't deny the tiny spark of joy Lola brought into the room.

The poker game was postponed as the men took turns entertaining Lola. She giggled at Gaz's funny faces, clapped along with Soap's silly songs, and stared wide-eyed at Price's stories. But it was Ghost who seemed to captivate her the most. She crawled over to him, tugging at his pant leg until he picked her up.

Simon held her awkwardly at first, unsure of what to do. But as Lola nestled into his arms, a sense of calm washed over him. She looked up at him with those big, innocent eyes, and for a moment, all the chaos and darkness in his life faded away.

He still didn't understand children, and they still confused him. But holding Lola, Simon began to see a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a place for a bit of light in his shadowed world.

Needless to say, after that eye-opening experience, Simon quickly became attached to the loveable child. He tells your sibling to call on their work days if they need a babysitter, claiming he's just trying to help lift the burden. Family helps family, after all.

Wrong!!

In reality, that man is completely smitten by Lola. Loves her to death. The moment he gets free time Simon is calling up your sibling, asking if they need any help, maybe needing a break from the child for a while and if Simon gets the okay, he's speeding to pick up Lola and whisking her away to your home.

Simon drops everything for her. In the middle of a workout? Give him 5 minutes. He's a fresh man, ready to play dinosaurs. Hell, he doesn't even know what playing dinosaurs is besides the fact Lola loves t-rex and being chased in her green dinosaur onesie. He went as far as to buy countless toys and books for Lola to play with in his home office, no less! Her favorite story books are tucked away in his desk, burying the paperwork he was supposed to have done for Price.

If Lola throws a tantrum with you, he immediately gives you a side-eye. What did you do to make the princess unhappy?

The man absolutely adores that cute muffin, and you couldn't be more shocked. Simon "Ghost" Riley, your husband, who refused to think about children, was now wrapped around your tiny niece's finger! Heck, she's practically your kid now, especially since Lola sleeps in between the two of you, cuddling up to Simon contently.

Simon treats Lola like she is his own child, so imagine his heartbreak when your sibling gives you two the news that they're going to be visiting home for a while. He's distraught, already missing the tiny ball of life, moping about your shared home putting away Lola's toys when suddenly an idea rings in his head.

His beautiful, hardworking doll can give him a child.

♡! I have a lot of drafts, and this was one. My writing is all funky and all over the place bc it's written between being awake and having no sleep!! I have more stuff I want to post, and I might continue this.

[heartsfromia]

the only exception — k. soonyoung

pairing: non-idol! soonyoung x f!reader

word count: 4,834

genre: romcom, fluffy, age-gap, older!reader x younger!soonyoung uwu

warnings: nothing really, just don't fall in love with a guy younger than yourself (speaking from experience)

author's notes: reader is a few years older than hoshi. i never proofread guys im sorry (i should tho)

There was rarely ever any good when Soonyoung gets a call from his mother on a Friday afternoon. Don’t get him wrong, he knows his mom tends to call at random times of the week—mainly to make sure he’s eaten while living alone, close to campus, and far from home, or if he needs any money to pay bills or any other expenses. Most of them are a ruse to cover up the fact that she misses him, and his presence at home. And ever since he entered his final semester in college, he could feel his mother’s presence sitting on his shoulder, whispering to him to find a girlfriend, find someone to settle with.

However, when it comes to phone calls specifically on Fridays, Soonyoung has noticed a pattern. Since it’s the last of the five week days, and the weekend is at their fingertips, he found that his mother would call him to ask if he was free for a lunch with his parents, and guests.

Who might those guests be? Parents to whoever it was his mother was planning on arranging him with. The years might go by, traditions might be forgotten, but when it comes to Mrs. Kwon, she’ll always stick to the tradition of marriage before hitting 25.

Soonyoung knew the moment her name appeared on his screen at exactly three in the afternoon, that she has another willing parent on her hand that would like to meet him for their child.

With a heavy sigh, Soonyoung took a step out of the library where he was hoping to spend his time in before his next class, before sliding the call and placing it by his ear. “Eomma, what’s wrong?”

“Soonyoung-ah, are you free tomorrow? Your father and I want to have lunch together,” she asked, her tone chipper than usual—another sign of an arrangement.

“With you and appa? No one else?” Soonyoung egged, causing his mother to chuckle lightly.

“How did you know?” She laughed, Soonyoung rolling his eyes and suppressing a sigh from leaving his lips. “There is a friend of your father’s that I want you to meet, he has a daughter that’s around your age and is on her way of becoming a lawyer—I want you to meet her.”

“I’ve said so many times, you don’t need to do this, I’ve barely gotten the hang of college, let alone plan a wedding,” Soonyoung protested, his hands moving in grand gestures around him in frustration.

“You are 20 years old, and you don’t have a girlfriend, what are you going to do once you finish college, Soonyoung?”

“I don’t know, maybe get a job, build my credit, invest in a future and then maybe consider marriage,” he explains, his exasperation over this repeated conversation evident in his sarcastic tone.

“You know, at your age, your father and I were engaged.” Soonyoung groaned, rubbing the ache that was forming in his temples as he hears his mother go on a rant how his parents had met when they were in their twenties, before tying the knot at the ripe age of 22. Despite the obvious generational differences, and how back then, marriage felt like an obligation rather than an option, his mother was adamant on having both her kids—Soonyoung and his older sister—to be wed off before they hit 25. To which she hoped she’d have grandchildren running around before her own children hit 30. It was an entire plan in the Kwon household.

“It’s different now, eomma,” he reiterated, “I don’t need to get married so quick, can’t you focus on Minkyung instead? She’s engaged, right? So you can bother her instead.”

“Yes, she’s engaged, but she’s still working and she doesn’t want to get married this year,” she explained, “right now, I want to focus on finding someone for you, do you really want to stay single until your thirties?”

“If I could,” Soonyoung muttered, but luckily his mother didn’t hear it.

“It’s time that you try to settle for a lovely girl—”

“I have a girlfriend already, eomma, and I don’t think she’ll be happy to know that I’m being set up on a blind date,” Soonyoung informed, the words slipping out faster than he, himself, realized and before he knew it, the damage was done.

His mother was silent on the other line, seemingly unconvinced, so Soonyoung added to the lies. “I met her a couple of months ago, I wasn’t sure if it was serious enough to tell you, but I’m happy with her.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have gone through so much to find someone for you, Soonyoung-ah!”

“I told you I met her a couple of months ago, I wasn’t sure if it was serious then.”

“Is it serious now?”

“Yes.”

“Then I want to meet her.” And this, everyone, is why you shouldn’t lie to your mother.

“You want to… meet her?”

“Yes, of course, if you’re telling the truth then the lunch tomorrow doesn’t need to happen,” she explained, and for a second, Soonyoung was overjoyed. Before he realized what that entailed. “Does Sunday work? You can bring her, and we can have lunch at a restaurant.”

“Sunday?” He repeated, stunned. That was two days from now, he has to find a girlfriend in two days.

“Yes, I will make a reservation for four and you can bring her along.”

“Wait, eomma, you don’t—”

“Yeobo, I told you to— ugh, I’ll see you Sunday, Soonyoung-ah, don’t forget to eat dinner!” Before Soonyoung could make up an excuse. another lie, to avoid having to meet his parents with his apparent girlfriend, the phone call disconnected and all he could hear was the racing beat of his heart.

Returning back into the library, he walked back to the table he occupied with his friend, Seokmin, a distant look on his face as he sat back down.

“Where did you go? I almost thought you ditched me,” Seokmin stated, before realizing his friend was not listening. He tapped Soonyoung’s shoulder, causing him to jump. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I need a girlfriend.”

Stunned, Seokmin stared at his friend before looking down on himself, then back at Soonyoung. “Well, I don’t fall under your requirements, so…”

A low groan rumbled in Soonyoung’s throat as he covered his face in frustration. “How am I going to find a girlfriend before Sunday?”

“Is it your mom again?” Without removing his hands from his face, Soonyoung nodded. Seokmin threw his head back in laughter, earning glares from people who were studying quietly around him, the man sending apologetic looks around him. His eyes scowered the relatively crowded library of campus, an idea appearing. “What about finding one here? I’m sure someone out here is bored enough to be your girlfriend for a day.”

Soonyoung lifted his head, glaring at his friend. “That is a… good idea.”

Bewildered, Seokmin lifted his brow. “Really?” Soonyoung ignored him, body turning left and right as he tried to find anyone that looked alone and approachable.

“Soon, you’re not actually going to—” But before Seokmin could finish his sentence, his friend was gone and heading to a table where someone was seated alone, eyes focused on a cellphone instead of a book, or laptop.

That person was you.

You found yourself walking to a nearby university’s library on your day off, your apartment serving no purpose to clear your mind of boredom, and since you didn’t have any work to do, you chose to play a video game on your phone instead. The crowded atmosphere made you feel more productive about your day even if you were just on your phone playing games.

However, your focus on the offline game was broken when a presence appeared beside you, tapping your shoulder timidly. You looked up, finding a guy with a small smile on his lips as he greets you, “Hi, is this seat taken?” He gestured to the empty chair beside you and you shook your head, assuming he wanted to take to his own table, but was surprised when he sat down.

“Can I help you?” You asked cautiously, saving your game before placing your phone down.

“Yes, actually,” Soonyoung began, fidgeting with his fingers. “This might be a weird request, especially since we don’t know each other, but is there a possibility you’re interested in being my fake girlfriend to meet my parents on Sunday for lunch?” Soonyoung almost said it in one breath, and once the words were out, he held said breath, awaiting for your response.

The most expected response was to be cursed out, called a weirdo for thinking that his request was appropriate to ask the first girl he saw alone in a public place. He held his breath, waiting for the slap, or insults, or both as he stared at you processing it.

“Sure.”

“Yeah, I understa— what?” He was taken aback by your quick agreement to his bizarre request. “What did you just say?”

Your lips pursed as your shrug, turning to face him. “I said sure, I don’t have much going on in my life, anyway.” You were telling the truth. Your everyday routine was a back and forth of work and your apartment, because you weren’t necessarily happy at your job either, you never felt the need to connect with your co-workers about non-work-related things, minimizing going out.

The guy beside you also looked desperate, and you didn’t get bad vibes from him either, so it didn’t seem like a lose-lose situation.

“Really?” You nodded curtly. His hand rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous chuckle slipped past his lips. “Oh, well… Uhm, I didn’t know I’d get this far, to be honest.”

“Is there a reason why you need a fake girlfriend to accompany you have lunch with your parents?” You asked, hoping it’ll guide him into elaborating his plan more in depth than what his initial approach was.

“Ah, well, my mom is trying to set me up on blind dates, hoping that I’d marry before I reach 25, and obviously—” He gestured to himself, “—I haven’t even graduated yet.”

Your eyes widened, sitting up straight. “Oh, you go to school here?”

Soonyoung nodded, confused by your question. “Don’t you?”

You shook your head, his question eliciting a light laugh from you. “No, I’m just here because I’m bored—it’s my day off.”

He blinks a couple times, before asking, “You work?” You nod. “You’re older than me?” Again, you nod and he immediately ducks his head, bowing at you briefly. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine,” you uttered, waving it off. “I’m not too big on seniority. You can call me Y/N.”

He extends his hand towards you, and you shake it gently. “I’m Soonyoung, I think I should’ve start the conversation that way instead of, well, dumping it all at once.”

“It definitely kept me engaged in the conversation,” you reassured with a light chuckle. Before Soonyoung could utter another word, a guy approached your table, noticeably looking at Soonyoung before he glanced at you, with an nod of acknowledgement.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N, but I have a class to get to,” he apologizes, eyebrows drawn together in guilt. “Can I have your number? So we can further discuss our plan of action?”

“Sure, let me write it down.” He handed you a binder, opening it on to an empty page where you wrote your number and name. You then asked, “What about we meet outside the library tomorrow?”

“Oh yeah, sure, that’s easier,” he agrees, “around eleven, is that alright?”

“Yeah, it’s cool with me, Soonyoung.”

His smile widened, and he stands from his seat. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

You mirrored his smile, nodding. “You’ll see me tomorrow.”

“So… you just said yes?” You nodded, busy with blow drying your hair. You were meeting with Soonyoung again today, mainly to discuss of your game plan to when you’re expected to meet with his parents. Admittedly, you never really sat to think of the entire ordeal, you just agreed. Chungha, when hearing about your situation, couldn’t help but stare at you in bewilderment, especially at how nonchalant you seemed.

“Yeah.” Your eyes locked with your co-worker-slash-roommate through the mirror, her eyes blankly staring back at you as you blinked multiple times. “What?”

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Hearing her statement, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a dry laugh escaping past your lips before you put the hair dryer down and turned to face her. But before you could get a word out, she continued. “You barely know the guy, and you agreed to be his fake girlfriend to lie to his parents, and then, what? Should I emphasize that you don’t now him?”

“His name is Soonyoung, and he goes to the university nearby,” you answered, feigning innocent as you smiled at Chungha.

“And?”

“That’s why I’m meeting him today,” you told her, “we’re supposed to talk about how we’re going to lay it all out for his parents—talk about he and I met, what our plans for the future—”

“And what are those plans, Y/N?”

You lifted your shoulders to shrug. “I’m just going with the flow.”

“Exactly, Y/N,” exclaimed Chungha. “You don’t “go with the flow”—” she air-quoted, and you roll your eyes again, “—you plans things, you’re organized, I don’t get why you’ve suddenly agreed to become some stranger’s fake girlfriend out of the blue.”

“Maybe it’s that, Chungha,” you stated calmly. “Maybe I’m tired of being organized, doing things according to plan. For once, something really interesting is happening in my life, and to be honest, I just don’t want to think of the consequences over agreeing to do this.

“I’ve met the guy, albeit briefly, but I met him, Chungha,” you informed, “my radar to be cautious wasn’t blinking bright red or ringing any alarms, and later today, will confirm that I don’t have anything to worry about.”

Your friend stared at you, processing what you had just let off your chest. She’s known you since you both started at your company—you trained together, you got through the same struggles together in the past year, admittedly, she knows you well enough to raise her own suspicions over this entire ordeal. She knows that you’ve been burnt out from work, and the mundane routine of going to work, then back home, with barely any time for yourself. Despite wanting to reel you back to normality, Chungha only sighed. “Just keep me updated, Y/N.”

“I will,” you uttered, a grateful smile sent to her.

There was a beat of silence before Chungha spoke up. “You said he goes to the university nearby?”

“Yeah.”

Another beat of silence. “I didn’t think you’d go for younger guys, Y/N.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Your arm lifted a third time, checking your wristwatch to see that it was forty minutes past eleven—past the meeting time with Soonyoung. You were seated in the cafe besides the library, the iced tea you had ordered long gone, the ice melting and the condensation creating a small puddle surrounding your glass. No texts, no calls, radio silence from Soonyoung, and as the minutes ticked by, you’d begin to think that Chungha was right.

Maybe agreeing to something as out of the blue as a fake girlfriend proposal wasn’t the best idea. Maybe you should’ve just stuck to what had been planned. Maybe you shouldn’t have gone to the library, that wasn’t planned. You were bored at home, and needed fresh air, so you walked around, stumbled upon the university library and well, that’s that.

Heaving a sigh, you stood from your seat and pulled the strap of your bag over your shoulder. However, as you were pushing the chair back into the table, quick footsteps approached your table and an out-of-breath Soonyoung, sweat dripping from his forehead. “Y/N, I’m so sorry!”

“Are you okay?” Brows furrowed together in worry, you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder as he bent over to regain his breath.

“Y-yeah,” he heaved. “I had a—”

“Soonyoung, sit.” Obediently, he pulled the chair and sat, leaning back into the chair and inhaled deep breaths. You stayed quiet as he regained his composure. “I’ll get you water.” Without sparing him a glance, you headed towards the door of the café, but Soonyoung took ahold of your arm, stopping you mid-step.

“I’m sorry I’m late, Y/N.” The sincerity behind his eyes was similar to what you saw in him yesterday, the glimmer that made you agree to the proposal he had for you. Without uttering a word, you only sent a small smile, pushing his hand from your arm. You enter the café, buying him a bottle of water and returned, placing the bottle in front of him.

“I’m guessing you had a last-minute thing to do?” You asked, playing with your assumptions from how he was out of breath and ran from the opposite direction of the main entryway of the library.

Downing half the bottle, he nodded. “I thought it was going to be a brief meeting for a group presentation, but apparently they began talking about other classes, and I lost track of time. And before I knew it—” He paused, finding you staring at him, intently listening. “—I’m sorry, I have no excuses, I should’ve told you I’d be late instead of making you wait here without any info, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Soonyoung… for owning up to your mistake,” you uttered, notably shocked by his statement.

“Let me pay for your drink, Y/N, or I can buy you lunch?”

“It’s fine, Soonyoung, seriously.” You waved off with a chuckle, finally letting the tension disappear. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Eager, aren’t we?” He teased, earning an eyebrow raise from you. “Sorry… uhm, yeah. My parents are quite chill, nothing too traditional—they usually like to make sure I’m dating someone that is capable of getting along with others…”

“The bars are quite high, huh?” You joked, the both of you laughing.

“I think my mom is the one that possibly doesn’t believe I have a girlfriend, that’s why she wants to see for herself,” he explains. “I’m the youngest, and even though you might think that would be plausible reason for my mom to not want me having a girlfriend, she’s different. She believes being in the early twenties is the perfect age to get, uhm… married.”

“But we’re not getting married, right?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“Of course not, we’re not actually dating either.” You nodded in agreement, laughing with him. “But showing my mom that I have a girlfriend will get her to lay off me for a bit, and I won’t have to expect any brunches with potential in-laws anytime soon after tomorrow.”

“I see,” you mumbled, nodding, letting the information process for a bit. “But, by showing me, wouldn’t she be asking about us? Our plans and everything. I mean, you did say she thinks you should be marrying at this age, no?”

“That is true,” he realized, “but I’m sure if we establish that the relationship is still quite new and we’re still playing it safe not to take a life-long commitment just yet, she might understand.”

You let the idea marinate briefly in your head. What you told Chungha was true, you were tired of the mundane routine you’ve had all this time, it’s put you in a rut that you’ve always struggled to get out off. Maybe this was the world’s way of saying: “hey do something so your life isn’t just a monotone routine of work and sleep”.

It’s not like being in a fake relationship with Soonyoung would be long-term either, you’re sure that after the brunch with his parents, that the two of you would meet-up to keep the lie up for a while, before eventually parting ways and he’ll have to deal with whatever future in-law brunches because he’d have to break it to his mother that the two of you have broken up.

You’d like to think of it as doing it for the plot, your year was getting boring and it’s already past the third quarter.

With a sigh, you leaned forward, placing your clasped hands on the table, locking eyes with Soonyoung. “Alright, let’s set the ground rules and how we’re going to do this.”

Maybe in another life, you were an actress because how did you even get through the brunch without sparking any suspicion?

It started off rusty. You and Soonyoung had thought up the whole backstory of how you two met—your route to work fell into his routine, where you both met at a coffee shop, and he had accidentally spilled coffee onto your white shirt one day and profusely apologized, insisting he should pay the laundry bill to which you allowed it. It was a cute story, 50% inspired by Chungha’s last failed situationship, but it helped make your “love story” seem more real than what happened in real life. You obviously couldn’t tell his mom that her son just sat by your table and asked you to be his fake girlfriend.

You took into account the backstory, how many dates you’ve gone on now and how long you’ve been dating, but you forgot your own self. You forgot to discuss whether or not you’ll be faking your identity—saying that you were working in one of the top 3 consulting firms in the country, or if you were actually older than Soonyoung—you weren’t sure how his mom would react to her son dating an older woman.

So you played yourself. You told Mrs. Kwon where you worked, your day-to-day and how you were able to juggle meeting with her son, in the midst of your schedule. Conflicting emotions arose during the brunch, and the fear that you never acknowledged came into fruition—Mrs. Kwon was sweet, and she liked you. Conversation with the elder woman flowed smoothly, her crescent eyes and the smile that seemed stuck on her face the moment she saw you enter the country club, until the moment she wrapped her arms around you, uttering the words, “I hope we can meet again soon!”

As the afternoon had sunk in, it wasn’t just your interaction with Mrs. Kwon that drove you to silence, it was Soonyoung as well.

If you thought you were a great actress, then he had already secured his Oscar trophy with his performance.

“How was it?” Chungha had asked immediately when you entered the door of your apartment. Her excitement dimmed to stun and morphed to concern upon noticing your dazed face. “Hey… Y/N? You okay?”

You returned to reality when she snapped her fingers in front of your face, blinking your eyes repeatedly as you regained composure. “What did you say?”

“I asked how your date was? Or, “fake date”,” she asked again, using her fingers to quote. “Did his parents buy it?”

“Yeah… they did,” you uttered, voice trailing, “but…”

“But…?”

“I think I bought it, too.”

Her brows knitted together. “What?”

You shook your head, your fingers aggressively running through your hair as you exhaled a heavy sigh. “I don’t know, he just– we were in the middle of brunch, and his mom asked him what made him decide to give us a chance, and Soonyoung just– he just—“ You couldn’t process what had happened into words, articulating what you felt at that moment felt so complex—something you hadn’t felt in a while, maybe even ever. You can’t recall the last time someone made you feel this… valued.

“He just, what, Y/N?”

Your mind drifted to that moment, when it felt like everything between you and Soonyoung were real… The warm rays of the sun shining through the vines, tracing the outlines of his face, the light hitting his eyes just right to accentuate the golden flakes in his eyes. The way his lips moved as he articulate every single word, with a sense of sincerity that seemed to be too genuine to be said just for a fake relationship.

“Even though it feels like we’ve just met… I don’t know, I just felt that you would be the one. I mean, it feels like you’re the only one patient enough to deal with my spontaneous ideas and out-of-this-world proposals, that I feel whatever we might face during this… that it would be all worth it.”

His words echoed, the image of his honey-dripping eyes looking back at yours, unbeknownst to his mother’s eyes but your hands intertwined beneath the table, his thumb rubbing gentle circles as his cheeks puffed up in a sweet, innocent smile, as if the words were uttered were true and real—that what you two had was real.

“Y/N, for the love of God, please don’t leave me hanging—” Before Chungha could finish her plea of desperation, your phone vibrated between the two of you, Soonyoung’s name and face flashing on the screen, awaiting to be answered.

“Give me a second, yeah?” You rushed out, without waiting for Chungha to respond and climbed off your bed, leaving your best friend to stare at you with sorrow. You escaped to the hallway outside your apartment, swiping the screen and pressing your phone to your ear. “Hello, Soon?”

“Hey, sorry, I know I just dropped you off, but I’m downstairs because I bought something to say thank you for your help today,” Soonyoung informed, causing you to straighten your back, surprised he returned and with a gift.

“Oh, sure- uh, give me a second and I’ll be down.” You hung up, rushing back into your apartment to put on a jacket, ignoring Chungha’s questions of where you’re going and who called, before you were out the door and going down the elevator. Soonyoung was seated in the lobby, a box on his lap as he watched the elevator number go down before stopping, opening and revealing you with a soft smile and bright eyes. He mirrored your smile, standing and approaching you, extending his arms to pass the box to you.

“It was kinda a last minute thing, I just wanted to let you know that I really appreciated your help today,” he uttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “I hope you like custard-filled donuts.”

You tried suppressing the grin on your face, your cheeks warming at the sight of little note he wrote on top of the box. ‘Thank you for being a real one and playing my fake girlfriend <3’. “It was really not hassle, Soonyoung. I did have fun.” You sat down, patting gently on the spot besides you and he sat besides you. You opened the box, revealing the freshly baked donuts, offering him one which he smiled gratefully before picking up one and taking a bite. You followed en-suite.

“Did she believe it?”

Soonyoung glanced towards you, custard on the corner of his lips that made you stifle a laugh. “Yeah, she did,” he spoke, wanting to answer but still in the middle chewing as he tried to speak without opening his mouth as wide. Your chuckle shook your shoulders, before reaching out to wipe the custard at his lips with your thumb. You pretended to not notice the red that spread across his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

He cleared his throat, trying to hide how flustered may have looked, only causing you to smile wider. Payback for what you pulled earlier, you couldn’t help but think.

“By the way, Y/N…” You faced him, finding his features strewn with worry—brows etched, a crease created between them as his eyes looked back at you in guilt. “I know we talked about it keeping the boundaries, as well making it vague, and avoid being too sentimental, but I got caught in the moment and… and I was just so grateful that you would take up my offer that I didn’t know what came over me, you looked really pretty, too, and you smelled nice- I mean, wait that was a bit out of pock—“

Your lips pressed against his shut him up immediately. For a moment, he was taken aback, before he melted into the kiss with you.

“I like you, too, Soonyoung,” you whispered once you pulled away. A child-like shine sparkled in his eyes upon hearing your confession, something bubbling in his chest that caused a bright smile to break out, his cheeks seemingly fluffier than before.

“So, we can keep doing this? For real this time?” You nodded, your cheeks flushed as you came to the sudden realization of something, chuckling to yourself. Soonyoung cocked his head to the side, inquiring, “What’s funny?”

“I just…” You sighed happily. “I just never expected myself to fall for a younger guy…” You bumped your shoulder with his, adding, “You’re the only exception.”

He threw his head back in a hearty laugh, smiling back at you. “Well, I’m honored to be the one and only, Y/N.”

[beababoobies]

GIRL I LOVE YOU

What do you think of a Jealous! Satoru husband x Beautiful! Reader's wife where they haven't had gogogo for months, their relationship is cold and Satoru is distant, so the reader goes to a nightclub to dance and Satoru in the middle of her missions finds her and gets very jealous? And then they confess their love to each other and have a happy night?

All the love from Venezuela my dear queen 🇻🇪🔥

Hihi!! Venezuela??? Un nuevo seguidor de habla hispana!!! hola! This looked so fun to write, so I jumped right on it. Enjoy fellow QWEEEN. <3 much love from Canada !! 

warning: slight angsty, self-deprecation. This is unedited and not proof-read, so if you see any errors, please feel free to shoot me a dm! Thank you!!

There were some things you shared with your friends. Hobbies, personal details, clothes, but you couldn’t share how things had been going with your husband, Satoru. It would be way, way too embarrassing to talk about how you, first of all, hadn’t been intimate in months, and second all, barely spoke. You went to sleep in the same bed. You shared a closet. But the words exchanged between the two of you were so far and few in-between one could’ve assumed it had been an arranged marriage. The most you had gotten in the past handful of months had been a kiss on the cheek, and that was because you were visiting friends and didn’t want to look awkward. The drive back to your house was silent. You felt like screaming. 

There was a million things bottled up in your mind, and even more importantly, your body. There was a screaming to have intimacy, obviously, human instinct - but there was something so much deeper, an insecurity you had been picking at like a scab that never healed. The dreadful thought that this was entirely your fault, that he wasn’t attracted to you anymore, or maybe you had said something wrong. You kept coming back to it, at night when you missed the feeling of his arm wrapped around your waist, the way he just gave you a small nod whenever you asked if he liked your outfit. The way you couldn’t bring yourself to try and rekindle the raging fire you once danced in, now burnt out and nothing above an amber. 

So, one night, while the very man in question was out on one of his millions of missions, you let the insecurities get the best of you. You wanted to feel desired, you longed to feel as wanted and yearned over as you had when your husband took you out on those first could have dates. The way he tripped over himself when he used to open the door for you, feigning confidence. The memories lit a new flame in you - anger, as sharp as a blade and just as deadly as you dolled yourself back up, heels brand new and matching with the most scandalous outfit you owned - paired with your hair done up? Oh, you felt like your self-worth had turned from a penny to a fortune. Something not the richest men in the world could afford, not even your bum of a husband. 

You felt anxiety bubble up in your stomach on the way to the club you used to hang around before you and Satoru had finally put a ring on it. What if you truly had somehow turned into some gross form of a human in the years you had been married? What if your late-night suspicions were correct, and Satoru was justified in the way he drifted off from you? What if you didn’t deserve him anymore, and you were trying to convince yourself of something completely untrue, instead of just begging him to stay? 

The anxiety in your stomach melted away the second you stepped into the purple lights of the club. Eyes drifted to you, quicker than you had even anticipated. You almost felt dissected by the amount of pupils that dilated once they fell onto you. Like a sleek race car that had been kept in the garage for a decade, finally dusted off and speeding down the freeway, the wind in your hair. Sitting down the bar was easy, avoiding unwanted attention was not.

Okay, maybe it was a little unrealistic to want the looks but not to be approached. You did want to make Satoru jealous, maybe just a bit, but it would never cross your mind to actually cheat on your husband. To you, he was still the most handsome man you’d met in your entire life. The drunkards and men on other substances that approached you couldn’t compare if they tried, but you did end up accepting a couple free drinks. How could you not? Free alcohol.

So there you sat, alone, a shining star in an ocean of black, a little more tipsy than you were ever planning to get. The bar seemed to spin a little bit, and rejecting men seemed to get a little harder. Apparently, being drunk makes you automatically available. A new anxiety bubbled up in your tummy, and suddenly you missed your husband, you needed to lay on his chest more than you needed air. Tears threatened to fall down your cheeks, but you wouldn’t let them. You wouldn’t ruin the makeup you put on less than an hour ago. You pulled your phone out of your purse, sniffling softly as you planned to call Shoko and cry to her, finally talk about your situation. 

A tap on your shoulder made you jump a little bit, but you were used to it now. You didn’t look up from your phone as you mumbled about being married, shoving your ring in the direction of the person who was bothering you, before hearing the smug, soft chuckle you knew all too well, looking up, completely flustered. 

“What a lucky guy, huh?” Satoru said with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lip, eyes scanning you over. He looked mesmerized, almost entranced as you rolled your eyes, groaning as you started to get up to leave. You’d just survive the car ride home and be fine, like usual. But tears made your vision blur up as you let out a choked sob, falling into his chest. You didn’t care about getting makeup on his uniform, you just wanted to cry and yell at him. He was standing there, trying to joke with you, but all you wanted to do was scream about how ugly and unloved you felt. 

You were too drunk to remember being softly led out of the club as you sobbed quietly, only sobering up enough to be coherent and sentient when your husband was siting on the sidewalk with you, having you gathered up in his arms while you let out your last soft sob of anger and desperation. He just sighed softly, pushing your hair out of your face to press a kiss to your forehead. You turned your head away, against your own will, to try and remain pissed at him. He had to suffer the consequences of his own shit actions. He rubbed shapes into your back for a couple minutes, before finally speaking up.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He started, looking into the pavement of the road to avoid your teary-eyed gaze, guilt evident on his face as he continued. “I’m just.. scared I’m going to be the reason you get hurt. And, and I know - don’t give me that.” He said with a stifled laugh as you flared at him, knowing you’d reassured him you didn’t care since the day your met him. “But it’s different now. With Itadori having consumed Sukuna’s finger, there’s… a possibility that he’ll properly manifest. And.. if that does end up happening, I’ll be one of the first in the line of fire. And that means using you as.. bait, kidnapping you for money, whatever I just…” his breath catches in his throat before he can continue. You lean into him closely, head on his chest. His heartbeat is audible through his chest, and he swallows thickly before he starts speaking again. It’s rare you see your husband in a vulnerable state like this. 

“… I started having these.. awfully vivid dreams of you. In the position Suguru was, or.. even worse. I thought if I started being.. distant, or cold, you’d lose interest, even if it would break my heart and kill me from the inside out. If it meant you were safe.. I was ready to go through heartbreak again and again, I think.” He ends his sentence with his eyes locked on yours, and all you can do is sit in silence for a second, the ambience of the street outside the club being the only sound ringing in your ears. The bass of the music from the club, the cars driving past, people having small talk over cigarettes just a few feet away from you two. 

Your next move is to grab him by the neck of his uniform and drag your husband’s stupid, self-sacrificing lips to yours in a kiss you had missed feeling every single day you were without it. He was hesitant at first, the alcohol on your tongue, the mixed emotions still swirling in his head - but it quickly turned to a the hunger that had made you fall in love with him in the first place, lips crashing messily against yours before you finally pulled back to speak, leaving him flustered as he looked down at you, his breathing a little unsteady. 

“I knew the risk of being.. well, even just seen with you, since I first met you. And I wouldn’t have married you, not to mention.. dated you, or fallen in love with you, if I wasn’t accepting of those risks. I would die a thousand times over to whoever’s hands if it meant another day of waking up next to you.” The words fell from your mouth like word vomit, ramble and quick, barely audible sounds that he somehow managed to keep up with, even with your hiccup in-between the syllables. He just nodded softly, pulling you even more snug into him, resting his head on yours with a satisfied sigh. 

“I know. I’m sorry you fell in love with me.” He mumbled finally, a genuinely, tired, apologetic tone as he spoke slowly, holding onto you like you could fall out of his grasp at any second. 

“I’m not sorry I fell in love with you.” You said after another moment of pause. The warm, comforting feeling of being in your husbands arms filled your stomach, and you let your eyelids close, knowing that your husband would carry your sleepy body back to the car, or through hell and back, if he had to. 

[bitchimasnake-sss]

Hey love ❤️ I love the way you do Zoro angst. I was thinking like Zoro and the reader get pretty drunk at a festival and some guy sweeps her off her feet. Like she's all giggly and blushy and he's miserable about it. I was thinking maybe his perspective. She ends up not going home with this guy cause she knows Zoro's tendency to get lost. He's pissed off but also wasted so he doesn't make much sense. Maybe they argue. Maybe he drunkenly confesses. I think you can pick whether it ends well or not. I like pain.

mwuhahah i thrive off of angst (but i suck at writing it). this also shall have little bit of miscommunication trope (I HATE IT AS MUCH AS THE NEXT PERSON BUT IT MAKES FOR BRILLIANT ANGST HELLO!), and this ends in like unresolved angst and tension (cause i thought that was super funny of me). also a bit of crack included (cause im a jester and a clown and i enjoy making everything a bit stupid).

drunken liabilities ft. roronoa zoro!

set up: check above! the strawhat crew are invited to a celebratory party after saving an island from merciless pirates and somewhere between the drinking and the dancing, zoro finds himself yearning for a certain someone. warnings: dumb people, even dumber plot by me. mentions of alcohol, a fight, random party shenanigans; zoro gets jealous and petty. mutual pining by two idiots. "We're just crewmates" stfu no you're not. nami is the best thing in the universe. yeah, thats about it. wc: 2.7k

zoro saw you.

he saw your smile, and your ability to turn every one of his jabs into a nice, little argument. he saw the way you smiled, all self-satisfactory when you finally shut him up in those arguments. he saw the way you took him on in drinking competitions and how you giggled when he pretended to lose. he saw how pretty you looked, eyes hazy and cheek flushed after each of those competitions.

roronoa zoro saw you, whether you knew it or not.

but now, he saw you swaying your hips with your hands wrapped around a man. a maN?? A MAN THAT WASN'T EVEN HIM?

nami cleared her throat, raising the bottle of beer to her painted lips. she wanted to laugh at zoro's grumpy face, the way his eyebrows were knitted together. but being a woman of honour and virtue, she held back.

"fuck is wrong with him?" zoro muttered under his breath, mentally slicing up that man that was swaying with you. "why is he eye-fucking her?"

"you good?" nami laughed, finally.

zoro begrudgingly shifted his vicious glare from you and that stranger you were dancing with to nami. he gave her a shrug, "whatcha laughin' at, woman?"

"nothing, you're just murdering a man in your head again."

zoro said nothing, finding his words too simple to convey whatever it was that he was feeling. he didn't need to defend himself, after all.

it wasn't jealousy. pfft, ofcourse not.

maybe protectiveness? yeah, thats the word. you were part of the crew. and so, as the first mate, it was his duty to ensure that you were safe and sound from any imminent threat. even if that imminent threat was a man who you were dancing with. now, ofc, the swordsman wasn't a complete idiot. he knew that maybe he had a teeny, tiny-miny crush on you. maybe.

"i don't think it should be this normal for a person to be this casual about murder, zoro." the navigator egged him on.

"we're pirates, who cares." his shoulders slumped downwards as if to showcase his nonchalance about the subject matter.

"we care, we're the good kind."

"yeah, yeah. good kind." the former pirate hunter dragged the bottle to his lips, drinking in the intoxicating liquid as a light thump thump thump built in his head. he closed his eyes and tried to find a second of peace. but the people were singing too loud, and the makeshift lighting too blinding and if zoro recalled correctly, the sake he was chugging on was cheap as fuck. and he had had one too many as always.

typical celebratory things.

"you do know that she's single, right?" nami quipped after a minute, nodding in your general direction, "like, she isn't doing something morally wrong by dancing with a random dude. it's your own fault you're a pussy and can't ask her out."

he cracked open one eye, glaring at the red-head, "yeah okay, do you get paid to be all up in other people's business?"

"no," nami grinned, "but it's fun."

"right." zoro closed his eyes again and ran a light hand through his hair. he tried to guess where the other members of the group were. it wasn't hard to come to a convincing conclusion. he was sure that somewhere in the party, luffy, chopper, and ussop were busy playing some sort of food-related game. sanji was probably busy trying to pick up women. and the others mingling with the townsfolk. but you— what were you upto?

the swordsman's thoughts grabbed him by the collar and shook him like a wet, rabid dog. what if— what if you were swaying along with that man? your head on the stranger's chest, your ass hard against that man. what if that man took you through the unknown alleyways and up to his house and fu—

zoro whipped his face to look to where you were previously dancing. relief washed over his face when he found you on the dancefloor, still intoxicatedly dancing with the stranger.

but now the scene was different.

that guy had lifted you up in his arms. and the people around you (who were drunk out of their pea-shaped minds) hollered and cheered as you burst into a fit of giggles.

"hey, hey easy now." nami gently withdrew the glass bottle from zoro's grasp before he shattered it into a million pieces. the action from the navigator made the green-haired man looked down at his reddened palms in surprise. just protectiveness, right?

when nami spoke up again, she offered her (annoying) crewmate a sympathetic smile, "just go talk to her," zoro ignored the next part of her sentence, "when you're sober, okay?"

and that is how a very drunk roronoa zoro ended up in front of you on the dance floor.

the guy was swiftly carrying you away from the dance floor, to one of the darkened alleyways as you blushed and giggled when zoro approached the both of you.

"hey, i need to talk to ya for a sec." zoro's voice was slightly sluggish while addressing you, but the man turned around and gave him a confused look, "you want something, zoro?"

the swordsman shrugged, dismissing the well-natured man, "wasn't talking to you, was i now?"

drawing out your gaze on zoro, you scrambled off from the man's grip, standing up before answering, "sorry. what is it, zo?"

but it seems like whatever had been on zoro's tongue died within a minute of approaching you and that bastard. he resigned himself to a soft sigh, looking away from you. "nothin'" he grumbled, "nami was sayin that once you're done dancing, meet up with her."

"oh? is that all?" you asked softly, hoping that the stoic man would say something else.

but he was a man of few words, that you knew.

"yeah, well, she says she wants to walk back to the sunny with you. it's unsafe alone." he shrugged, "also, im heading back to the sunny."

"so soon?" and he nodded curtly in response. he gave the man next to you a quick side-eye before attempting to walk away from you at lightning speed.

by now the stranger had almost faded to the background as all your focus fell upon the man your captain called his first mate. as he walked away, his green hair were tousled, his walk a bit jagged up from all the alcohol. the overhead lighting plays with the dips and creases of his kimono and you found yourself following after him.

"hey!! where are ya going?!" the stranger called out after you but his voice faded between the rhythms and thumps of the songs and dances.

"zo!" you called after him, long forgetting the stranger that was spinning you around a few minutes ago. you caught up with him, "you know what? i actually wanna go back too, mind if i walk with you?"

he nodded solemnly, and you didn't mention that it was because you knew he would get lost and get drunkenly passed out on these unknown streets. and you didn't mention that you were worried about him, just because he was your crewmate. that's it.

the both of you walked in uncomfortable silence, as if something sinister was lurking around, waiting to ruin whatever peace remained between the two of you.

"you know." the swordsman voiced as he followed you into a dimly lit street. you were now far away from the celebratory festival, trying to take a shortcut to head back to the ship.

"hm?"

"you shouldn't get that close to a stranger." his words were innocent enough; a cautionary advice from one crewmate to the other. but it was his tone — dashed with a tiny bit of accusation — that made your skin crawl.

"well," you glanced back over your shoulder, finding his drunken form trailing you, "i don't really need you to tell me what to do. i can take care of myself, i know how to fight."

he scoffed, "oh, do you?"

maybe it was his tone. oh no, it was definitely his tone that pissed you off. so, you turned around. crossing your arms over your chest, you stared him down, "what's the problem with you?"

both of you were drunk, and the tension between you two ran high. one slip of tongue, one wayward action and the swordsman didn't know how the night would end— with you in his arms or with your dagger in his chest.

so, he decided not to take his chances. it was too risky, too bold. and the swordsman was never the kind to take uncalculated risks. so, he stifled his words and brushed past you. walking ahead now, he declared into the night air, "nothing's the problem with me, was jus' offering advice. don't take it if ya don't want it."

you followed suit, voice growing agitated, "why do you have a problem if i'm dancing with somebody else. or even making out or fucking them. it's none of your business. we're friends."

now it was his turn to turn around and glare at you, "i know that."

he paused for a second. were you really that stupid? did you not notice that whatever was left of his wretched heart belonged to you? or did you notice and you liked to stomp over it, anyways?

he finally sucked in a breath, steadying his drunken thoughts, "as you said, we're friends. you're part of the crew. and i was just l-looking out for you—"

"—well, you don't fucking have to. i am grown adult, zoro."

and just like that, whatever argument he had died within him. and he looked at you, dumbfounded. then, his gaze hardened and he stepped forward. were you really that stupid? or was he just that good of an actor for you to not see him the way he saw you?

he highly doubted the second one. maybe you were just very dense.

your breath hitched as he walked forward. if you had forgotten how scary the former pirate hunter can be, you were reminded right this second as you backtracked slowly. the two of you moved in tandem till your back was pressed against a solid wall and zoro stood directly in front of you.

towering over you, the menacing first mate said nothing as his gaze bore down holes into you.

"zo—zoro?" your voice was a meek whisper, eyes drifting downwards to avoid looking at him.

and suddenly, he was hyperaware of the situation he had forced you into. the closed proximity of it all, as you looked away from him. for someone who was a swordsman, he was certainly losing his patience. so, he simply pulled back, giving you some space. he sighed, he had clearly drunk too much tonight.

all that alcohol with all that pining was messing with his brain, "you should stay back, i'm going to the ship."

"what are you talking about—"

"—just go, enjoy. you're right, it is none of my business who you see." and with that the swordsman walked away.

"huh?? zoro!" you yelled after him, an unyielding resolve in your voice, "whe- where ARE YOU EVEN GOIN' ALONE? YOU'RE GONNA LOSE YOUR WAY!"

but in his classic avoidant way, he ignored you. taking long steps through the dusty road to reach the ship.

"oh my god, are you GONNA MAKE ME RUN TO REACH YOU?"

but he dismissed you again, clenching his jaw and continuing to walk. and you decided to jog to catch up with him, much to your dismay. he scoffed over his shoulder, fingers dancing along the hilt of his swords, "no need. sorry i ruined your plans tonight."

and that halted you dead in your tracks. to fuck with any apologies you had, who was he to pass around judgement for what you do?

"what's that supposed to mean? fuck you." you spat out, "i'm going back to the crew."

"fine by me." he grumbled, turning around to face you, "have fun."

"will do." you seethed, trying to raise his hackles, "make sure you don't pass out on the streets like a drunkard."

"even if i do, i'd be fine." he was getting more and more irritated, trying to raise your hackles right back, "why do you care?"

"ugh." you stepped forward, jabbing his chest accusatorily, "i was so dumb to leave that super nice guy to come chase after you! all you care about are your swords and your dumb sake."

he pursed his lips. what were you both even arguing about anymore? it made no sense, any of it. he wasn't even sure why the two of you were yelling at each other anymore. the nightly winds were unforgiving and cold. and all he knew was that as you yelled at him, blood rushed to your cheeks and your eyes came ablaze. your brows furrowed and lips fell into a pout as you awaited him to answer you. the gentle caress of the winds washed your hair over your face and you pushed them back in annoyance.

dammit.

zoro never believed in gods, but right now he would curse whatever deity sat above for making you so goddamn pretty. and making him so goddamn stupid.

as if looking at you would lead to his demise, now, it was his turn to look away. slowly drawing in a breath, he muttered, "jus' go back, there's no point arguing."

"fine. i'm leaving."

and wow, there must be some sort of cruel deity above. one who especially had a vendetta against zoro.

because, as if on cue, the man who you had been dancing showed up. he was slightly out of breath, as if he had run to come catch up with you, "hey! uh," he stopped short as he saw the stare off between you and zoro. "sorry, am i interrupting something?"

you turned around to look at the man, "what? no. nothing." you paused, giving zoro a short glace, "what are you doing here?"

"i uh—" the stranger shifted on his feet, a nervous smile on his face, "i- well, my friends forced me to come after you. i— i just... i know you guys are leaving in two days, but i was wondering if you would maybe wanna spend some time with me tonight? i, uh, i would really like to get to know you."

zoro stared at the man in a strange mix of jealousy and awe. was it that easy to confess?

"—it's okay if you're tired!" the man spluttered on, "i mean, i just wanted to talk— only if you want to, of course."

clearly, it was. because you turned away from zoro, giving that stranger a genuine smile, "you're too sweet. and, i was heading back to the party anyways, so might as well—"

"—really?" the man beamed and you nodded, walking towards him, mirroring his smile.

roronoa zoro watched you walk away, not even sparing him a sliver of a glance. and all of a sudden, the night air was too chilly and his headache too annoying and his heart, it ached.

before you turned to next street and disappeared with the stranger, you looked back at him. something in your gaze that begged the first mate to stop you, to call you back to him instead.

but he didn't.

all zoro could do was stand there, stupefied. you turned the corner, taking your gaze off of him with mild disappointment. before you turned, he saw you laughing at something the stranger had said.

zoro had no idea how long he stood there, transfixed at the ghost of you that was once in front of him.

roronoa zoro always saw you, right? well, now, he just saw you leave.

"what are you doing here? lost your way, marimo?" sanji asked as he materialized out of thin air on that street.

"huh?" zoro broke out of his daze, "what are you doing here?"

"hah," sanji looked smug, ignoring his question and blowing out a puff of smoke, "what did i expect from the idiot with no sense of direction."

"oh, go fuck yourself, shitty cook."

now, why did sanji show up at the exact moment zoro got his heart (whatever of it was left, anyways) broken?

the gods above must be laughing at the swordsman.

credits: to @bucciniexe for the format of the header; @chachachannah for the divider above! a/n: i don't know if this was nearly angsty enough, but i really do picture zoro as an avoidant who runs from his feelings for quite a long time. sooo, i hope this was angsty enough. thankyou @screaming-crying-screamingagain for the prompt, hope you like it mwuah <3

[vroomvroomcircuit]

Still Waters run deep

Summary: Logan learns that his girlfriend actually is the master of planning petty revenge. Let's listen to the tales she can share.

Wordcount: 1.7k

Warnings: Mentions of one toxic and mean ex, but other than that this is 100 % unhinged fluff

🏎Masterlist🏎 ________________________________

Date the shy girl, they said. Date her, she is an easy one. She will love you forever.

That Logan will open his hotel door to see several car door windows on the table was nothing that anyone had told him before chatting up the quiet girl in his math class in ninth grade.

But here he is, staring at three windows of different shapes. “Babeeee? Are you here?” Logan continues to keep his eyes on them, thinking they will disappear as soon as he looks away.

Currently he can’t find a single rational explanation of why those are in his hotel right now. Did someone break in and place windows on his table? And not steal something else?

Did his girlfriend sleep walk and buy windows?

There is not an explanation that he can come up with that fits the current situation.

“Babe? Why do we have car windows that are definitely not the ones for our rental in our hotel room?” The door to the bathroom finally opens and (Y/N) appears back into the main lounge. “Oh hi, Honey! You need to help me with something!”

Logan spots excitement and a hint of mischief on her face while she walks with a pep in her step towards the table. “You see, these windows are from Magnussen’s, James` and Lewis’ private cars. I also got glass staining colors, glue and a canvas. I thought we could smash up the glass to destroy the evidence and then make a mosaic kind of craft out of them! A cute little date night to finish off this awful weekend.”

He blinks at her a couple of times while listening to her explanation. “Baby, please tell me you did not steal car windows from people who wronged me.” His voice is soaked with a begging undertone.

“Oh yes, I did. I mean after James stealing your car, Kevin crashing you out and Lewis impeding on you without getting a penalty, I thought about how you can inconvenience someone, whose problem is not money.” (Y/N) continues to smile, elated by the devilry she managed.

But Logan shakes his head. “And you thought vandalizing their cars is the best way? How do you even know how to steal a car window? I don’t know how you would manage to do that without getting caught.” Exasperated, he sits down on the couch.

“Well, my dad taught me in high school how to do it. You know, for revenge reasons. I’m not the type to meet someone head on when they wronged me and my dad knew that. So he showed me how to steal car windows, knowing I’m not the confrontational type.” The smile on her face is contradictory to the crime she admits committing.

The American puts his head between his hands, understanding the weight of the situation. “We need to get rid of the windows. Did someone see you? How were you able to slink away with windows in your back?” But (Y/N) shakes her head. “Nobody saw me. I can’t tell you how I got away with it, in case you wrong me. I mean, I have other cards up my sleeve, but I can’t tell you those either. Just know, no one can connect you nor me to the theft. So now to the actual important question: Do you have a motive idea for the mosaic? Because I thought we could do a bouquet of flowers.” 

After that race weekend the couple leaves their hotel room with their usual luggage and an extra canvas wrapped up in bubble wrap.

Logan starts to wonder: what other kind of unhinged things has his girlfriend committed?

“Oh, you know how my ex-boyfriend was an asshole?” That is actually no news to Logan. From the beginning of their relationship (Y/N) has been pretty open about how she was treated by her previous partner. She felt like she had to explain to him why receiving his love in the way he gives it was strange to her in the beginning.

They dated during the time Logan and (Y/N) started talking. Back then, it wasn’t obvious to her what kind of person that boy was. Logan on the other hand was ready to ride at dawn for her the first chance he could get.

Her ex-boyfriend didn’t have many kind words in his vocabulary, especially for his partner. Logan caught this early on, making sure she knew her worth, even before she broke up with him.

He also wasn’t appreciative of (Y/N) and her gestures, the small and simple gifts indicating her love for him. Her doing small acts of service, showcasing she would inconvenience herself for him. These things were taken for granted. But not by Logan. He, to this day, makes sure to show her how much he loves and appreciates her thinking about him.

“So do tell. How did you get back at him?” Logan asks on the plane back to London. (Y/N) hinted earlier that she also took revenge on him.

“Mh, I don’t feel like repeating this one, so I will tell you. But keep this close to your chest, because it was genius.” Like usually during one of their secret trades, Logan holds his pinky finger out. (Y/N) links hers with his and whispers “If you break the promise, I will hack it off.” The American does not doubt that for one second.

The woman leans back into her seat, fiddling a bit more with the crocheting she brought onto the plane. How she gets the hooks, scissors and needles through TSA every time without a hiccup is another mystery to Logan.

“So, after I broke up with him I got a 500 pack of keychains off the internet. You know, those bright plastic ones, where you can write your name and number down, in case you lose your keys? Some friends and I used a whole afternoon to write his details on them and tag them with a ‘call this number if found’. I also ordered an ungodly amount of generic keys and we put them on the keychains. Next step was just to divide the keys between us and leave them everywhere. In supermarkets, public toilets, parks all over different cities. Just, everywhere where someone could find them. I heard from mutual friends that he still got phone calls regarding lost keys years later. Knowing he has been inconvenient this whole time every now and then, that gives me massive satisfaction.” (Y/N) smiles into the yarn, reminiscing in the feel of getting back at someone over and over again by doing something so simple.

Logan throws his head back, laughing. “I mean, he definitely deserved that. But this is also so so evil. I can’t believe that you’re the same girl that makes me order for the both of us anywhere we go. Do you have any other stories like that?”

She thinks about it, letting his question rummage in her head for a moment. There was one time where (Y/N) hid throughout their high school mini plastic babies in the most random places. She also once put yogurt into the mayonnaise glass, because her brother ate her snacks and made himself a mayo sandwich every day for lunch at school. Since then, her snacks remained untouched. Then there is-

“Oh, you know how I complained about your snoring and you didn’t believe me that it was that bad?” Logan nods cautiously, not sure where this will be leading to. “Well, I recorded your snores and put them on Spotify, so other people can suffer with me. Track ‘Logan snoring for 3 hours straight until he coughed himself awake’ has 150.000 streams right now.”

His laugh is quickly quietened. “You did what?!” (Y/N) pulls out her phone and shows him the evidence on her spotify. “I told you I would do it. Do you believe me at least now about your snoring? Because I got about 150.000 testimonials.” Logan scrolls through the page she showed him, finding several of his snoring recorded and uploaded.

“You know what, I will schedule an appointment with my doctor as soon as possible”, he agrees after listening to one for a few minutes.

Their flight back is used by trading more funny stories about all the ways she got her revenge in petty ways.

“What do you want for dinner?” (Y/N) asks him later in the evening since she just came back from getting groceries. “I don’t know”, Logan murmurs, eyes stuck on some data on his laptop. The woman nods to herself and vanishes into the kitchen. Noting the time, Logan decides to follow her to help in a couple of minutes.

Unfortunately for him, (Y/N) already beat him to it as she brings him a bowl with a fork. “Here you go, Darling, have a good dinner”, she gives him the dish with a kiss to his cheek. Surprised that she didn’t take even ten minutes to whip something up, the American looks into the bowl excited for one of her amazing dishes. He wonders about the lack of having a dish herself, but maybe they share this one.

Much to his disappointment, there is no food. Instead, he is met by a couple strings of paper with “idk” written on them. He looks up to his girlfriend. “You know, this really serves me right and you played this good.” He smiles at her, seeing the satisfied grin on her face. He gets up, takes his wallet and keys and ushers her to the front door. “Let’s go out to eat. I will also order for you too, don’t worry about that.”

Logan will never be able to get over her bright smile when he reassures her about the process of ordering. In these moments, he just wants to squeeze her cheeks and never let go of her. Maybe dating the quiet and unhinged girl is not half that bad.

Still, if he learned one thing since chatting up the quiet girl in his math class, it’s that still waters run deep. Oh, and they plan the pettiest revenge.

[waldau]

IF IM NOT TOO LATE #3 PLUS F2L DOKEY OR SEUNGKWAN 💅🏻💅🏻💅🏻💅🏻💅🏻💅🏻💅🏻💅🏻

@bookyeom 🫶🏻🫶🏻

“A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.” + dokyeom + fwb2l

six minutes doesn't count as late hehe. thank you for requesting!

dokyeom doesn’t have to, but he stays back and helps you put away the mess of pizza boxes and empty plates.

“you can go home like a normal person, you know,” you say, looking at the man who’s managed to find your vacuum cleaner from your storage and get it working, meticulously cleaning the carpet. “you don’t have to waste your time here.”

they’re the wrong words, and you know it. he looks up at you with something like hurt in his eyes, and you feel like you’ve wounded a puppy. now that thought hurts you, so you turn away from him and focus on clearing the glasses instead.

“it’s not a waste if i like spending time with you,” dokyeom says quietly, over the hum of the vacuum cleaner. he’s decibels lower than he usually is, and you have to strain to hear him. you want to apologize, tell him you didn’t mean that, even if those were the words you used, but he focuses on his task at hand and you find you have nothing to say to him.

“done,” he says, turning off the power. “can i take those plates for you?” he asks, pointing to the stacked pile on the coffee table.

“you don’t have to—”

“i want to,” he insists, and picks them up, gently brushing past you on his way to the kitchen. the feeling of his bare arms is enough to send a tingle through your body.

he’s been doing this a lot, recently. going out of his way to do things for you, things that wouldn’t be deemed normal for someone who’s just supposed to be your friend with benefits. first it was the breakfast he’d bought for you while you were still asleep. then it was the jacket on your shoulders when he dropped you back home, worried it was cold. compliments on how you looked.

tonight it’s the fact that he showed up to your birthday party and spent all his time by your side, making no attempt to correct your friends’ assumptions that he was your boyfriend.

you could tell yourself he might have wanted to spare you the embarrassment of revealing the dynamic the two of you share to your friends, but you know better.

you know dokyeom has feelings for you, even if he hasn’t said it outright, and you’ve been pushing him away every single time he brings it up. like right now.

“hey. you okay?” he asks, snapping you out of your daze. you didn’t even notice him standing in front of you till he spoke.

“yeah, fine. just…” there’s no way to ask him that, is there? him flirting with you is one thing, but you can’t just ask him if he loves you. “can i ask you something?”

“sure?”

you clear your throat. “kiss me.”

his eyes widen, and before you can back out and stammer an apology about it being late and your mind not being in the right place, he takes two steps to stand in front of you. he grabs your face in his stupidly large hands so damn gently that you bite your lip to stop any tears from welling up.

gentle dokyeom. he’s always been honest with you no matter what. when you first began your…relationship, he was the one concerned that it’d lead to a fallout one day. when he was sure both of you liked what you had, he’d never shied away from showing you his true feelings. and he’s not shying away now, holding your face as though it contains the answer to everything.

“do you…really want me to?”

“please,” you whisper, afraid you’re going to do it yourself with zero grace if he stalls for another moment.

he tilts your head up to face him just right, and this kiss is so different from the ones you’ve shared in the comfort of each other’s bedrooms. it’s soft, cautious, but loving all the same, and you realize you were an idiot to have denied yourself this all along.

“stay with me?” you ask, slightly breathless when you look at how starstruck dokyeom’s looking. “not for sex. we could just, you know…”

“sleep together. i know,” he says, grinning the grin that made you fall for him all those months ago. “i’ll do that. happy birthday, again.”

[castiwls]

you are in love - s.w

Paring; sam x reader

Prompt; 'Pauses and says, you're my best friend. And you knew what it was, he is in love'

Requested; anon

Notes; kinda made this sader than i meant oops. reqs and inbox are open !

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

Ever since he was a child Sam had been taught to fear the dark. Taught that all the worst things happened in the darkness of the night. Over time the childhood fear of creatures hiding in his closest had slowly faded away as he came to terms with the fact that those creatures did in fact not just live in the closest but also in the wider world.

He’d quickly learnt that his actual fears lay not only in the dark but also in the light. That was partly why he’d quickly learnt that his favourite time of day was dusk. The time of day when the world was almost in limbo, not yet dark enough for the monsters of the night to come out but also not too light for them to lurk on the streets.

Sleep seemed to come and go for him recently. More and more nightmares making appearances made sleep something which he’d simply rather avoid altogether, yet that had changed when you’d walked into his life.

Sleep seemed easier and safer whenever you were around, your body almost like a protection blanket in human form. The nightmares never seemed as bad.

Yet he still found himself waking in the late hours, a small jolt of fear turning his blood cold as his eyes stared up at the dark ceiling. Letting out a breath he shifted in the bed, turning to watch the rise and fall of your chest as you slept beside him.

A small smile pulled at Sam’s lips as the previous fear seemed to melt away as you subconsciously moved closer, a small huff leaving your lips. 

“Sam?” Your voice was quiet as you slowly blinked up at him. “What's wrong?”

He shook his head, his smile widening slightly as you leaned back slightly to get a better look at him. You were more than used to him being awake at almost all hours, you’d learnt very quickly that the smallest movement seemed to wake him up - much to your dismay.

“M’fine.” He brushed a hand through your hair. “Just trouble sleeping. That’s all.” He reassured.

You watched him for a moment your eyes tracing his face. He didn’t look stressed, if anything he looked relatively relaxed. You subconsciously relaxed realising that this wasn’t a nightmare situation and that he wasn’t trying to hide something.

“Okay.” You nodded a tired smile pulling at your lips as you stifled a yawn. 

You watched him for a moment longer before leaning up to press a chaste kiss to his cheek, your lips brushing over his cheek for a moment before pulling back. “Try and get some sleep okay?” 

Sam nodded whispering his agreement before brushing a hand over your cheek. His lips parted for a moment as if to say something before he stopped. His eyes moved from you for a moment, an almost hard look settling over his face.

He sucked in a breath before looking back to you, his face softening almost immediately. “Why did you do that?” You frowned.

“Do what?”

“That face, why did you pull that face?”

Sam laughed quietly. “I didn’t pull a face.”

“Yes, you did. You looked like you were in pain for a moment.” His smile dropped slightly as you sat up - him quickly following. “I know something's wrong.” 

Sam was quiet for a moment before he pulled his gaze from yours, an almost nervous look taking over his features.

“It’s nothing it’s just…I realised how much you mean to me and I guess…” He trailed off running a hand through his hair. “Everyone I’ve cared about in this way…It’s not ended well for them. I don’t want that for you.” His hand found yours, intertwining your fingers as he looked back up, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

Your heart pinched slightly at his words. You’d told him hundreds of times that nothing was going to happen to you. That he was allowed to love without feeling guilty, yet he still refused to say the words.

“You’re my best friend.” His hand tightened against yours as he felt his breath catch for a moment. You both knew you were more than friends. You had been for a while yet he wasn’t willing to risk saying those words for fear of placing a target on your back. You both knew the unsaid words which hung over you at all times. It was almost like a string waiting to snap as you both danced the line, neither willing to cross and finally admit that you were in love.

[sansaorgana]

Hi! Please take your time with everything's that's going on for you at the moment and if you don't want to write this that's absolutely fine!!

Today marks the 1 year anniversary of me getting out of an abusive relationship that lasted 6 years so it's been ups and downs today with celebrating and grief. If it's okay, can you maybe write a Buck fic where he's there for the reader (his girlfriend) whose in a similar situation? I've spent the day binge watching MOTA and I just want a cuddle from Buck aha

I completely get it if you don't want to write this because I know its pretty heavy stuff and I hope everything gets better for you soon! Enjoy that bottle of wine!!!

hi, darling! thank you for your request and I'm terribly sorry you had to wait so long because I have just checked and you sent it to me in the beginning of April 🤧 it is a quite heavy topic indeed and I hope I did it justice... Buck and Reader are married here but she had a husband before – I thought this sort of situation would suit this time period the most 💝

my requests are currently closed 🙅🏻‍♀️

Buck’s day started as usual – getting ready for work in the morning as he shaved his face, combed his hair and put the clothes on that you had ironed for him on the evening before. He walked downstairs to have breakfast and spotted a plate of scrambled eggs with bacon and a toast already waiting for him with a cup of coffee. He smiled to himself and approached you standing by the window to give you a kiss on the cheek before sitting down by the table to eat. From the corner of his eye he noticed that you were quite nostalgic and sad this morning but he didn’t want to push you into telling him what was wrong because perhaps the answer was “nothing” and you were just tired.

However, you were unusually quiet, staring out of the window with a cup of your own coffee in your hand as you watched the birds outside on the tree’s benches but the beverage was long forgotten in your hand. Buck hadn’t seen you sipping on it at all and he was sure it was cold now.

“Is everything alright, love?” He asked as he raised his eyebrows at you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you nodded your head with a shy smile but the look you gave him was brief and unusually unfocused as if you were trying to avoid his gaze.

Buck decided not to push you, especially now when he was before work. He decided to ask you more in the evening if your mood would still be so odd. However, when he was finishing his scrambled eggs, you suddenly opened your mouth again.

“You know, today’s the day… It’s the anniversary of my divorce with… With him,” you sighed and finally took a sip of your cold coffee.

Buck’s shoulders stiffened at those words. He had no idea about the anniversary taking place today out of all days and every mention of your ex-husband felt like a punch in the guts. Not because he was jealous or something – he had no reasons to be and he knew that – but because he was aware what that man had been like and how he had been treating you.

You had been already divorced when you had met Buck and some people had been warning him about getting into a relationship with a woman “with the past” but Buck had known better. He had known you and he had known “your past” from you. He couldn’t blame you for falling in love and he couldn’t blame you for leaving a man like that son of a bitch. He hadn’t known how to appreciate a woman like you, he had been taking advantage of your love and devotion.

Buck was not like that. He was patient with you, he was understanding, he was protective. He had promised to take care of you, to help you heal as you were helping him to heal after the war. It was a peaceful and cosy marriage that had lasted about a year now but he knew that the demons of your past would sometimes show up. Just like his did – they liked to come back in sudden anxiety attacks or unreasonable fear of loud things like the fireworks on the Fourth of July. They liked to come back in dreams, too – nightmares, actually.

You always knew how to comfort him, how to calm him down, to make him feel safe again. But now he felt awkward and helpless when it was his time to do the same for you. He didn’t know how to react properly. Should he congratulate you? Or tell you to forget about it? Both options seemed kind of wrong.

“I see,” he only cleared his throat awkwardly before taking the last sip of coffee and standing up to approach you. He kissed your cheek again and rubbed your shoulder in a comforting manner. “I gotta go now… Do you want to go out somewhere nice in the evening?” He furrowed his brow. “Like a restaurant? You wouldn’t have to cook today.”

“I…” You hesitated. “I don’t know. It would feel like celebrating and even though I have reasons to… I don’t want to think of him at all. I want this day to be normal,” you looked at him and he nodded before pecking your lips and wishing you a good day as he left for work.

However, he knew that it was easier said than done. You would still think of your ex-husband all day long. It was inevitable and only natural. Buck felt bad for you and on his way back from work he stopped by the store and contemplated on getting you flowers. Once again he had a dilemma because it would be a nice gesture that would make you smile but on the other hand it would feel like a symbol of congratulations and a celebration. You wanted this day to be usual but you were unusually sad and quiet so he wanted to bring a smile to your face…

Walking back to the store’s entrance door, frustrated, he walked past the alley with the toys and then he stopped at the sight of an adorable teddy bear as he suddenly got an idea. He bought it and took it home, a little nervous of how you would react.

In the meantime, you were growing impatient because he was late and the dinner was getting cold. Staring out of the window, you finally spotted your husband’s car and you went to the hall to greet him.

“You’re late!” You pointed out and Buck smiled at you.

“I’m sorry. I stopped by the store,” he leaned in to kiss your cheek and handed you a teddy bear.

“What is it?” You furrowed your brows at the soft toy in your hands. “It’s adorable but… Why?”

“I was thinking… I mean, it reminded me of you because it’s adorable, let’s start with that,” Buck chuckled. “But also, I thought… I want you to have it so he’s watching over you when I’m out at work or something, you know. And when you’re sad, you can look at him and smile, yeah?” He scratched himself behind his neck awkwardly.

Your heart swelled in your chest at his words as the corners of your eyes pricked with tears. Despite your words from the morning that you didn’t want to think of your abusive ex-husband, he had been occupying your thoughts all day long. And you wished you had asked Buck to call his work and tell them he was sick, just to stay with you. But you would feel guilty if you did that. So, you spent most of the day dwelling on the past and trying to fight back the bad memories. And now, your husband’s sweet gesture meant the world to you.

You wiped your wet cheeks and threw your arms around his neck to hold him close.

“Thank you…” You whispered. “Thank you so much, I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart. The most in the whole world,” Buck rubbed your back and kissed your temple.

“Go wash your hands and eat dinner now because it’s getting cold,” you took a step back and caressed his hair to fix the reckless hair strand.

You went to the kitchen, too and you sat the teddy bear on the window sill by the kitchen sink. He would watch over you every day as you cooked, baked or washed the dishes. You couldn’t stop smiling widely at it and Buck’s heart was growing in his chest out of happiness at the sight.

Sometimes he fantasised about finding your ex-husband – wherever he was now – and teaching him a lesson or two. Not even about killing him, no; dying would be too easy for that bastard. But he knew it was not worth it. He knew you wanted to let go of the past and your ex-husband was not worth going to jail for either. But seeing you, Buck couldn’t believe that someone had wanted to hurt something so lovely and pure. He just couldn’t comprehend how anyone could want to cause pain to his wife.

When he was done with his dinner, he washed the dishes in silence, not even letting you know that he had already finished because you’d insist on cleaning since he was “tired after work”. He didn’t want to interrupt you reading a magazine in the living room, so he washed the dishes himself and only then he joined you on the sofa.

“You’re done now, baby?” You looked up at him and put the magazine away to stand up.

“Stay,” Buck put his hand on your thigh. “I’ve already washed the dishes.”

“Oh, baby, you shouldn’t have! You’re so tired after work,” you pointed out with a pout.

“I’m completely fine,” he chuckled. “Come here,” he invited you to sit on his lap, so you happily did as you crossed your hands behind his neck and he pulled you closer. “Are you happy, darling?” He asked, more seriously now.

The question left you speechless for a moment but you knew where he was coming from. The bittersweet anniversary of your divorce had been occupying his mind as well for the whole day – not only yours.

“I am,” you nodded your head and bit on your lower lip. “The happiest,” you assured him. “Being your wife makes me feel happy, safe, proud and fulfilled. And I would tell you if something was wrong. Like we have promised each other to be honest and open,” you caressed his hair and leaned in to rub your nose with his. “And one day I’m going to have more wedding anniversaries with you than I have ever had with him and I’m going to forget his face and his voice completely and I can’t wait for that day. But perhaps I had to survive him to be able to meet you,” you shrugged your arms. “And just because of that, I can’t regret anything from my past because everything has been leading me to you.”

Buck only nodded at that before joining your lips together in a sweet kiss. He knew what you were talking about because he would go to ten more wars and survive ten more captive camps if it meant that he would end up as your husband.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[tragedyofdevotion]

disregard

Yandere Neuvillette x reader

Mentions of torture and blackmailing

Implied nsfw, not explicit

I hate you.

I wish you died.

These are the words you swallow up everyday as you wake up and see him looking gently at you.

You ignored him and his damned lovesick gaze in favor of the more important task to do: to get out of bed.

Despite the impression he gave as a respectable gentleman, he was never restrained during his nightly routine with you, always leaving you bruised and tired and legs too weak to stand properly. After all, a dragon will remain a beast, an animal, no matter what kind of titles as he accumulated in living among humans, pretending among humans.

The Iudex, a beloved Chief Justice of the Fountaine, a symbol of Fairness.

Under his watch, no instances that might go against the ideal of the country is allowed.

But even before you personally knew him in this way, you could not understand the trust people had on him.

If he truly valued justice, will he allow the trials to be used as entertainment for the public as if it was some kind of theatrics?

Would your best friend's father be wrong accused and meet untimely death?

Would the true culprits behind your father's death be running amock while your best friend is trying the most that she could to prove her father's innocence?

No, they wouldn't.... if Neuvillette truly valued justice and tried to find the truth behind the incident like the blonde traveler who finally uncovered the real culprits of the incident.

You hated Neuvillette for pretending something he most certainly wasn't, a human with humanly emotions.

So, you were never a fan of his.

However, back then, you weren't fully aware of how much of injustice he was willing to commit to secure his lover treasure.

As you pull back the bed sheets and tried to get up, he offered to help you, like a lover facade he is dead set on continuing.

But you ignored him, and got up on your own wobbling and shaky.

Your body was littered by his artworks of kiss marks, bite marks and hand prints. But he admire them on you as if you are the goddess of beauty herself.

"Good morning, my love."

He said his voice sweet and sugary unlike the tone he made when declaring your lover guilty for a murder you were sure he never committed.

In exchange for securing your boyfriend a safe and peaceful life in meropide fortress, you had to jump into the jaws of the awaiting beast. (So, the rumors that the Index was good friends with the Duke were true. Or at least, they were close enough to be partners in crime in making your life miserable.)

You again ignored his voice and put on your dress to cover up your body from his disgusting gaze and walked into the bathroom.

You wonder if your best friend is still trying to find you. The poor girl has just lose her two most trusted subordinates. You want nothing more than to run to her and hug her tight to say that you are okay, you are fine, you are not going to leave her.

You felt arms around your waist, hugging you from behind. The person, predictably, was none other than your husband.

You pushed away his hand and continued washing your face.

In the mirror, you could see Neuvillette looking at your reflection with puppy eyes begging for an ounce of affection.

Oh, just how much you want to poke out those eyes with a knife.

But you refrained from actually doing it because

1. He is the Hydro Sovereign whose strength rival that of Archons so your attack would probably be ineffective.

2. If you so much as point anything sharp in his general direction, your boyfriend has to face the tortures that would make grown adults to faint just by hearing it.

(You once tried to attack Neuvillette using the power of your Anemo Vision but not only did it not work, the Duke made you watch your boyfriend being tortured in front of you.)

After freshing yourself up, you ate the breakfast as silently as the morning before.

If there was one good thing about Neuvillette, he has to go out for the whole day.

So, if only you endured the most agitating breakfast of him staring at you as you eat, you will have the monster out of the house.

"I will be going out. I will try to be home as soon as I can."

You opted out his voice and laid back down on your bed and pull up covers to get some sleep to compensate for the loss of it last night.

You heard him going out of the room to go to the court for whatever trials awaiting him.

It rains in Fountaine today, too.

[paradlselost]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄

black noir x female reader

⎨ 𝐀𝐍 ⎬ this is set in SEASON FOUR so obvious spoilers ahead . this is just a drabble , i will post more about black noir in the future but i really needed to get a smut out for my own sanity 🙏 i need both earving and noir II . also that’s me under the table with him (:<

⎨ 𝐂𝐖 ⎬ second person point of view , mentions of mourning , straight up smut : p in v , unprotected sex , semi - public sex , zero pullout game .

How could he explain it to anyone who would happen to walk in? That it was a mistake? A heat-of-the-moment interaction? It certainly didn’t feel like an accident; the way you gripped his dick like it was a lifeline. Maybe in this moment it was, truthfully, it felt like the only thing keeping you grounded to this earth.

The once cool glass table below you rocked back and forth as if uncertain on the legs that held it up. At some point you would be worried it would break below your combined weight; but the mushroom-like head of his cock slamming back into a certain bundle of nerves drained every thought from your mind.

Visitation was extremely limited thanks to everything Homelander and Sage were doing, but a special exception had been made for you. Earvings closest friend, his unrequited love come to gather some semblance of closure from the new person under the mask. Wearing his suit as if years of unrelenting loyalty to Vought was dumbed down to him being a character any actor could play.

Maybe it was stupid to think otherwise, to hope there would be any kind of memorial for the man you had loved so dearly; how could everyone move on so fast from someone who had been there for so long? It wasn’t fair; but maybe his memory was better off out of your mind - out of pain and suffering and with his friends for eternity. Whatever eternity looked like.

New Noir may be a bit clueless when it comes to his role, but he’s not stupid. He could pick up on the way you avoided looking at his mask at first or how you apologized under your breath every time your hand brushed his armor. You were the best lead he had to figure out how to play this character he was thrown into. Not for a second did he believe his predecessor was only a brain dead maniac.

And he could be wrong, but he had a feeling his hunch of Earving loving you back was true. How could he not? You were gorgeous, head tilted back and jaw slack, knuckles turning white from your grip on the other side of the table. He didn’t remove his mask, only the cup that covered his crotch was off. He had to be acquainted with that area of the suit as boners against the covering hurt most of the time, and taking off the suit to get off in a bathroom stall was far too difficult.

Closure, what a funny word for what was happening. Maybe you could imagine it was Earving behind you, pounding against your cunt and creating those sweet wet sounds that vibrated through the room; but at this point nothing but the rhythm of his cock slipping in and out of you at such a pace could stay on your mind.

The cameras watched you two, no doubt, it was the meeting room after all. Your warm breath and the sweat that trickled down your form had created a slight fog against the once cool desk, a surface slippery enough to make him grab your hips to keep you in position. Hard, like he didn’t know his own strength, but you wouldn’t mind the bruises in the shape of his gloves, would you?

Cock-drunk, fucked stupid but still smart enough to feel the stutter of his hips and the throb of his dick inside of you. Fantasies of Earving often ended in him fucking his cum that leaked out of you back in, but you were suddenly acutely aware that this wasn’t him. You didn’t know if he was sterile; an important question you had accidentally skipped right over.

“Wait wait-“

Too little too late. Just as you had suppressed your eyes from rolling back into your head for the millionth time; he let out a groan. Grabbing your hips to stay impossibly close to you and pushing inside as far as possible, letting himself paint the walls of your cunt with his cum.

Panting, a gloved hand traveled from your hips to the very front of your thighs. His body pressed against you; keeping you on the table as he caught his breath - mindlessly playing with your clit, as if it was second nature. After a moment or two he seemed to realize what he did; you could hear him hiss softly from behind you, embarrassed.

“Oooh fuck - I’m sorry.”

[trafal-gah]

ᴍᴏᴍᴍʏ, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ....𝕸𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖞....

Pairing: ❦Vinsmoke Yonji x Dom! Fem! Reader

Sypnosis: Yonji was being mean to Sanji again after you specifically told him not to so you decide to punish him for his disobedience.

-first time writing smut btw, let me know if it's good please-

Genre: smut | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Warnings: (I'm not used to writing warnings so if I missed anything please let me know) Teasing, Mommy kink, cum eating, masturbation, foreplay, face sitting, slight degradation, name calling (needy slut, naughty boy ecetra), begging, orgasm denial (m receiving), oral (m&f receiving and giving) slight humiliation? Established relationship.

You watched as Yonji and his brothers kept repeatedly teasing Sanji, calling him weak, a failure and other crude things. It honestly pissed you off because you knew that Sanji was much stronger than the three of them.

Sanji was one of your friends you made on sea, knowing him through Luffy and the rest of the Strawhats. That is, before you met Yonji and settled with Germa 66.

And to your surprise he came back to Germa 66, even though it was against his will, you were also shocked to find out that he was a Vinsmoke since he was nothing like his family.

You had told Yonji repeatedly since Sanji arrived for the wedding with Pudding to not be mean to Sanji, better yet, to leave him alone. But knowing him, he was quite stubborn and hardheaded, never listening. So you decided to teach him a thing or two about obedience.

"Yonji?" You called out to your lover, making not just him but also his brothers to turn and face you.

"Yeah, babe?" Yonji replied, ignoring the teasing from Ichiji and Niji.

"Can you come here for a sec?" You asked as you waved your hand at him making him rush over.

"Something wrong, baby?"

"No, not really. Just.... I've been feeling quite strange and I was hoping you could help me with this feeling."

Yonji smirked, knowing fully well what you were implying. He turned to face his brothers.

"Y/N and I will be gone for a while, have fun." He said in a rushed tone before grabbing your hand and rushing to your shared bedroom.

Once there, he immediately shut the door and pinned you against it, kissing you almost immediately. The kiss was rough, reflecting nothing else but hunger. You both moaned into the kiss, his arms gripping your waist.

You slowly pushed him off you and made him lay on the queen sized bed, he let out an 'ouf' at the impact.

You crawled on top of him, straddling him while rubbing your clothed cunt against his half hard clothed cock.

You took off his shirt and carefully intertwining your fingers with his, taking his hands above his head.

"Babe, what are you doing?" Yonji asked, taking immediate notice in your strange movements.

In one swift move, you cuffed his hands together.

"Babe? What's going on?" Yonji asked again with a slightly nervous tone.

"I remember telling you to not be mean to Sanji, right, love?" You asked as you sat up, your pussy still against his cock.

"Well.... Yeah... You did...."

"So explain why exactly were you treating him the way you did today?" You trailed your fingers around his exposed nipples making him shudder.

"It.... It was just a pass time, baby.... We were just having fun.... Sanji didn't mind...." He whimpered slightly as you tweaked his right nipple.

"Didn't mind, you say? Did you pay close attention to his reaction? The scowl on his face as you were 'having fun'?"

"W... Well no... I didn't..."

"You've been a really bad boy, Yonji. Think it's time for you to be punished, hopefully, this time, what I say would stick."

You leaned down and circled your tongue around his left nipple and tweaking his right one.

"F.... Fuck.... Baby.... Y... You know how sensitive those are...." Yonji managed to say.

"I know. Exactly why I'm doing it."

Yonji let out soft moans, shutting his eyes tight as he felt your touch flow to his cock. He thrusted his hips upward, trying to get some sort of relief, but you immediately pushed his hips back down.

"Don't you dare move." You said in a commanding tone, letting Yonji know you most definitely weren't playing around.

"S.... Sorry." He whimpered

"Just 'sorry'?" You asked.

"Sorry, Mommy.... I won't do it again."

"Good boy... Maybe I should give you a little treat?" You trailed your hand on his collarbone, touching all his sensitive spots.

"Y.... Yes.... Please, Mommy..."

You got off his lap and slowly trailed your hands up his thighs towards his crotch. You began to rub his already hard cock through his pants, making him whimper even more and throw his head back.

His reaction made you giggle as you freed his hard length from his pants. He let out a shaky moan, enjoying the feel of his cock finally being out in the open.

"S.... Shit...."

You pumped his cock agonizingly slowly, wanting to hear him beg for you to go faster or take his cock in your warn little mouth.

"I've barely even done anything and look how hard you are.... Like you've been craving my touch.... Have you been craving my touch, Yonji?" You asked as you licked the tip of his cock slowly.

"A.... Ahhh... Y... Yes, Mommy.... I've been craving your touch.... F.... For so long.... Nngh.."

"Tell Mommy what you want"

"M... Mommy... P... Please... Take my cock in your mouth.... Please.... I.... I'll be a good boy.... Please..."

"Such a needy slut... If anyone saw you now, they wouldn't believe you're the same ruthless prince of the Vinsmoke family... " You began pumping his cock faster.

Yonji's moans got louder even though he attempted to keep them at bay by biting his bottom lip.

You leaned forward and finally took his length in your mouth, immediately deepthroating it.

"S... Shit! Mommy... Mommy... Mommy.... Ahhh...."

His moans got to your core, making your more wet than you already were. You trailed your hand between your legs and below your waistband then you slowly started rubbing your clit.

You moaned around Yonji's cock, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you used your slick as lubricant, pumping your fingers in and out of your throbbing pussy.

"M... Mommy... I... I'm gonna cum.... I .... I'm gonna fucking cum..." Yonji moaned

His words snapped you out of your erotic trance, you pulled away from his twitching cock, taking your fingers out of your pussy.

"W.... Why'd you stop?.... I.... I was so close.... P.... Please let me cum... Please... Please... Please, Mommy... I.... I'll be a good slut.... I'll be good.... Please...." He begged as he felt his orgasm slip from his grasp.

You only smirked at this and took your fingers which were covered in your juices toward his mouth. He opened his mouth and you pushed your fingers inside. He sucked on your digits so desperately.

"Look at you, so needy, it's almost pathetic. Naughty little slut." You said with a smirk.

Your words of degradation only aroused Yonji more, he moaned around you fingers, swirling his tongue around them, drool dripping down his chin.

You pulled your fingers out of his mouth and smeared the saliva around his mouth.

"Mommy.... You taste so good.... Please let me eat you out.... Please... I've been a good boy.... Right?" Yonji pleaded.

You knew how much Yonji loved eating you out like you were his last meal. He could spend hours between your thighs if not for the fact that you get overstimulated and sensitive after your fourth orgasm and push him away.

"Will you be a good boy?" You asked with a coy smile.

"Yes! Yes! I'll be a good boy.... Just please let me taste you .... Please sit on my face..."

You giggled once more, finding his desperation cute.

You moved upwards on his body and sat on his face. His tongue immediately delved into your pussy, sucking and licking desperately, wanting to taste more of you. You arced your back while moaning, loving the feel of his mouth and tongue working against your pussy.

Yonji moaned against your sopping cunt, drinking up your taste, the quick and precise movement of his tongue brought you closer and closer to the edge.

"F... Fuck.... Yonji.... I.... I'm cumming.... Nngh... Ahhh...."

You came in his mouth and he eagerly swallowed your juices, getting even more obsessed with your taste.

You got off his face, noticing the smear around his mouth and his half lidded eyes, looking up at you with pure lust.

"We're gonna have a loooong night, baby." You smirked deviously.

This is my first time writing an nsfw story and I really hope it was good.

@fanaticsnail and @honeyshiddendesire I really admire your works so I would really appreciate it if you went through this especially the place with the warnings ❤️

[ubescoups]

la la lost you

you both know it ended a long time ago. you were just scared to admit it.

pairing: seungcheol x oc

tags: angst, exes, talks of wedding, in denial, hurt

author's note: this piece is commissioned from twitter

...

“I’ll go now.”

You look at Seungcheol for the last time, trying to memorize the face of the man you used to call yours for the past four years. He’s heading east, trying his luck at the concrete jungle. 

He kisses your forehead. You let his lips linger on it for some more, knowing that he will never be back in your life once he turns to the door. He stares into your eyes with a kind smile on his lips. 

“Take care, will you? I won’t be around anymore to remind you to eat on time,” he says softly. 

You only nod, knowing that even a single squeak from you would send you to tears. 

This was never intended to end this way. 

You have always imagined a grand wedding with Seungcheol in your seventh year together. 

Seven 

That was your magic number. Seven years was your limit for long-term relationships. Whenever you hear the number seven, you hear the clanging of the wedding bells as you envision the long trail attached to your ivory-white wedding gown. At the end of the altar, you see Seungcheol in a black tuxedo, and his hair is long enough to cover the back of his neck. His eyes are wet with tears, joy evident on his face as he sees the woman he’s been with for seven years. 

Then you snap out of it. 

“Goodbye, Alexa,” Seungcheol mutters with reverence.

“Bye,” you reply, avoiding his gaze this time. 

Where did it go wrong with us, Seungcheol?

His back is finally facing you as he walks out the door. 

thud 

Out he goes from your life as his figure disappears after he closes the door. You grab the back of the sofa for support as you cover your mouth to muffle the sobs wracking your body. 

It’s for the good, but why does it still hurt?

It started when his kisses didn’t make your heart flutter anymore. Your mother told you it’s normal for couples to lose the feelings they used to have for each other as time passes. She said those feelings are usually replaced with more profound respect and love that isn’t measured by how one can show it superficially.

Yet, deep down, the thought of you and Seungcheol falling out of love lingers like the dark shadows in the night, disguising itself as newfound comfortability and calmness. 

The nights when you would turn your backs away from each other increased, hugging pillows to seek comfort.  You thought, “We are both just tired from work.” You were telling yourself that, ignoring the arising feeling that would get caught in your throat, making you cough painfully as it would make you feel suffocated.

You would fall asleep at night as you felt tiredness consume your body. You would wake up in dreamland, tossing and turning to see a different man beside you. You did not recognize him anymore. That wasn’t your Seungcheol. Consumed by your dream, you would sit up during the wee hours of the morning, looking at your snoozing lover—relieved would be an understatement to see his face upon waking up from that recurring dream. 

Are you still my Seungcheol?”

You were afraid to answer your question. Maybe it’s because you have gotten used to his existence, or you were starting to realize the answer deep down. You knew you were not yet ready, still holding on to the hope that maybe your mother was right. 

“Hey,” he smiled as he felt your lips on his neck the morning after a night of interrupted sleep caused by that recurring dream. 

“Can I lay my head on your chest?” You asked. 

He nodded and welcomed your body with his arms as you laid your head on his toned chest. You stayed in his arms, hoping it would prove you wrong.

“Nothing is changing,” you assured yourself, subconsciously tightening your hold on your lover.

It was as if holding on to him would help you convince yourself. 

“Alexa,” Seungcheol called out. 

“I love you. I hope you know that,” you said, looking up to see his face. 

He only nodded. 

You gave him a small smile and stayed there for a while. 

“Will marriage solve this worry of mine?” You asked Lara, your closest friend.

She shook her head as you both lay on your living room carpet one afternoon. You poured your heart out to her, hoping that your best friend would be able to assure you. 

Seven years was just your limit. If you and Seungcheol were really sure of each other, he could’ve married you in a heartbeat. 

“Your mom could be right, you know?” She trailed. 

“But?” You asked. 

“Seungcheol has the answer. You will have to ask him, Alexa,” she finished. 

You were afraid to do so. You didn’t know what was happening in your lovely boyfriend’s mind. 

“Do you still love me?”

If you asked that question a year ago, you know Seungcheol would answer yes naturally, as if his tongue was created to give that answer smoothly with the roll of it. Yet, when Lara brought it up almost two months ago, you didn’t know anymore. You were unsure and scared to hear Seungcheol’s answer. 

Why did it become so difficult to be sure of something you used to have confidence in? 

You used to be sure. 

Alexa and Seungcheol forever, right? 

Whatever happened to that love? 

The answers to your many questions came unexpectedly in the form of a velvet box collecting dust on top of your cabinet. 

Your weary mind couldn’t process anything you were trying to feed it to assure yourself. You decided to clean the master bedroom of your shared apartment with Seungcheol. You decided to do general cleaning that day. It was something your mind wanted to keep off from the things you were worrying about. 

You opened the box, and there was a diamond ring, a princess cut, to be specific. It was the heirloom ring passed down by the Chois to the next family bride for each generation. 

“Alexa?” Seungcheol called out. 

You were frozen in place like a deer in headlights. You felt like running. 

“You were not supposed to see that,” he sighed, dismay evident. 

“Since when did you have this?” You asked. 

“Since Pops’ birthday,” he replied. 

He was holding on to the ring for almost a year. 

“You were holding back,” you answered. 

He sat on the edge of the bed, trying to find the right words to say. Silence flooded the room, and you were trying to hold your breath as if under that water and trying not to drown. You handed him the box and just sat beside him. The sinking of the bed as you sat on it felt dizzying. You just had a confirmation of your fears. 

“Did I do you wrong?” You asked.

He shook his head. 

“You have always been wonderful, Alexa,” he answered. 

“Why were you holding on to that goddamn ring?” You croaked, fighting the sobs that were arising from your chest to your throat. 

“Life suddenly started for me, Alexa,” he told you. 

“I thought my life would end with me marrying you and having a big family with you like what Pops did, but the band happened. I didn’t know that a reunion with the old band I had back in high school would give me an opportunity of a lifetime,” he continued. 

You looked at him, betrayed. 

The band. Seungcheol was a vocalist and guitarist for an alternative band in high school. He used to boast that to you, telling stories of how he was playing with them at bars, events, etc. 

“End?” You shot. 

“You think your life will end when you finally marry me?” You asked. 

“It’s not what I’m saying, baby,” he sighed. 

“Your own words are betraying you, Cheol. Don’t call me baby, too. This conversation will not end until you finally tell me what’s on your mind,” you told him. 

He went silent once again. For a while, you were just sitting quietly. You wiped your eyes and your tear-stained cheek as you wept quietly. You could not believe the words that came out of his mouth. 

“When our performance from the homecoming went viral, and Jihoon reached out to us, I suddenly felt alive. It was just like the old times again. I felt free from all of my constant worries,” he explained. 

“You felt free from me as well,” you concluded. 

He shook his head. 

“When Pops handed me the ring, I realized what was coming for me. I have to marry you. I have to make sure you will have a promising future with me. I suddenly realized I was still behind on things I needed to take on for us to have a comfortable life,” he told you. 

You were lost for words, so you let him speak his mind, hoping to hear that he still loved you. 

“Those worries would keep me up at night, Alexa. Then the band happened. I got excited when I saw the comments online, especially from those who used to watch us back then. I realized that I do not have one ending. I am still the one who gets to decide on my future. Life suddenly became exciting for me,” he said. 

You were a witness to that sudden change in his aura. When the reunion happened, and the invitations to play at events started, you saw how joyous he was. It just didn’t occur to you that he was burdened with the future with you that everyone pictured for the both of you. 

“The future with me felt like a chore,” you pointed out. 

He cried softly, muttering apologies. 

“Do you still love me?” You asked. 

“I do,” he cooed softly, holding your hand to kiss it as the tears flowed down his cheeks. 

“I just don’t know where we stand anymore,” he admitted. 

You sobbed and pulled away your hand. 

“You can’t do this to me, Cheol,” you said. 

He apologized again, crying. Your questions finally had their answers, and none of them were the things you wanted to hear but the confirmations to your fears instead. 

“The band’s flying out to New York in a month,” he told you. 

“Alright, let’s break up on the day you leave,” you replied. 

“Alexa,” he trailed. 

“I do not want to hold you back, Cheol. I can’t put my life on hold for you as well. I want to get married to someone who is sure of me or doesn’t think that the future with me is a responsibility,” you told him. 

“We are partners, Seungcheol. Our future together is a collaboration for me. I see us building that future together, hand in hand. We are equal. Your problem is mine as well. Why do you think of it like I would only sit on the corner and watch you do anything?” You ranted, tears falling continuously. 

“I was raised to be like that, Alexa,” he answered. 

You only shake your head. 

“When do you leave for New York?” You asked again. 

“On the 30th of June,” he replied. 

You nodded. 

“When you leave on that day, we’ll be done. Don’t hold yourself back for me. You deserve to be happy,” you tell him. 

After that day, it was as if life was playing a cruel joke on you. In everyone’s eyes, you were still Alexa and Seungcheol, the ever-perfect couple with a happy ending on the end of the horizon. Things started reminding you of what you would have if things had never changed. 

You almost cried when you saw Seungcheol holding your niece in his arms during a family dinner. It was as if you were reminded of what could have been. You always saw Seungcheol as a doting father to a daughter who got his eyes and lips and always cried for him. You always imagined him chuckling to his wailing princess, shushing her little sobs with the assurance that he’s with her always, in all ways. 

“I dreamt of the future with enthusiasm,” you told him as you lay on the bed you shared. 

“I did, too,” he admitted. 

“What was the future you always pictured?” You asked.

“Our first child would be a boy. He adores you the way I do and would cry for you. In my head, he’s my best friend. I imagined him running to me after a long day at work. His grubby, little hands would reach for my face to kiss my cheek. His hands are dirty because he enjoyed the snack you gave him, so he could wait a little bit longer for the dinner so we could all eat together,” he narrated with a slight smile. 

“It was so vivid,” you told him. 

“I know. I was so sure of you, Alexa,” he said. 

“Was,” you repeated. 

“Sorry,” he quietly said. 

Was

The word repeated on your head over and over again like a dagger being pressed deeper into your chest. You breathed deeply and cried yourself to sleep, wishing that the pain would finally go away. Yet, it won’t. Instead, you realized Seungcheol’s version of your future differed from yours. It was evident with how you pictured your kids. Seungcheol envisioned you as a stay-at-home mother. Though you love the idea of being focused on your kids, you know in your heart that you want to identify as something else aside from being a mother. You want to continue with career aspirations and have money for yourself. Your mother taught you that when she was still separated from your father. 

Sleep didn’t come to you quickly as you counted off the days before Seungcheol left for New York. You were racking your brain, trying to understand when you felt the relationship was about to end. 

Maybe you were also changing your mind about the future with Seungcheol, and the seven-year limit was your safety net. 

“Did I rely on that limit to distract me from the fact that that future might never even happen?”

You knew it wasn’t just him who was ready to jump from this sinking ship. You were just in denial because you were already accustomed to thinking it would be him in the end always. 

Were you just like Seungcheol, who saw it but did not look at it as one should when deeply in love? 

Did your relationship end a few months ago, and you were both cowards to admit it? 

You hug your knees to the floor, crying after Seungcheol finally walks out the door. There is no turning back now. You were the one who decided on this. When he leaves for New York, he leaves everything about you and him as well. 

While you understand that this breakup was happening before you both realized it, the pain remains. It still feels like the half of you is torn and tossed into the ocean of flames. You still want to scream your head off. 

Because you know that nothing is more painful than living with the fact that you have wasted years of your life with someone who doesn’t see the end of it with you, nothing is more hurtful than living out the remaining days of a shared relationship that should have ended with wedding bells and a kiss after the priest said so. Yet, this is your reality now.

Seungcheol will be in New York riding subways and taxi cabs going places when you have always imagined him driving the family car with you in the front seat as your kids sat in the back sleepily as the drives always lull them to dreamland. 

You will always feel cold in San Francisco but never freezing like he would when the cruel winter visits New York. You think of how whiny he gets when cold, especially when the heat packs on his coat and his hands don’t warm him enough. 

You will start your life again with half of you still in the thoughts of him out there without you. You love him, that’s for sure, but with everything that has happened for the past few months, you know that it’s for the best that you won’t be marrying him. 

You just know that your mother was wrong. 

You did not love him any deeper. Being deeply in love doesn’t equate with having lesser affection for someone you’ve been with for a long time. It’s not maturity or having profound reverence towards your partner. 

You fell out of love with Seungcheol, and he was the same as you. 

You were in denial, and he was scared to tell you the truth as he was used to the idea of you beside him. 

You lie down on the carpet of the living room like you always do, letting the new reality of being alone in this apartment you used to share with someone you called the love of your life for four years. Everything is still here except his things. It’s complete and decorated, but it’s half empty in your head. 

You repeatedly remind yourself that it’s the only right thing to do, that it’s best to be free of him before you waste more of your years for nothing. Yet, you’re only a mere mortal dealing with a pain so unbearable that you wallow and weep. 

You just ended a relationship you were once sure of, and even though you have given yourself a month to face the ending of your greatest love story, it did not brace you from the impact of the pain it’s giving you now. 

You close your eyes and pray to the god you used to believe in, wishing he’s there and merciful enough to take away the pain that you’re feeling—wishing for him to fast forward to the days when you won’t feel this pain anymore. You never want to remember this feeling again. 

You wish never to experience the pain of being fully aware that you’re losing someone who has gotten half of you. 

[soloroomies]

lifemate (Chapter 4/ Sakusa x f!reader)

summary: talking about the details of your arrangement with Kiyoomi word count. 2.4k cw. marriage pact au, mature content, suggestive a/n. it's here!! the marriage is happening!!(＞0＜；；；) Masterlist

When you step inside your apartment, your heart starts to pound hard. The full realization dawns on you quickly. The fuck. You can't be like this. You fan your face, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. You kind of feel like screaming. “You can't be like this,” you repeat the words loudly to yourself.

Why do you feel this way, though? You despise yourself for it. Maybe the idea of tying the knot with someone is really getting to you. You walk to your kitchen and gulp down some cold water to hydrate your throat. You need to be logical about this. Gosh, you need your best friend, Tami, right now. But she’s probably asleep already; it’s almost 1 am. So, you send some urgent texts to her, telling her that you’ll meet Sakusa tomorrow. You also send her a message that says something like, “The marriage plan is happening!! I’m gonna make a list of things that I need to discuss w him. Please give me ideas for some important topics!:( Love u.” You know your best friend can at least give you some pointers, especially since she's been married for four years.

You start to clean yourself up, changing your clothes, removing your makeup, brushing your teeth, washing your face, and doing a quick skincare routine. Now that you’re more comfortable, you might think more clearly. You check the time on your phone and lie down on your bed. Okay. You’ll make a few points yourself first.

You try to think hard, but nothing substantial comes up. So, you search for it on Google. You click on some articles and jot down notes in your notes app. You can't write much because you find some topics aren't relatable to your situation. Some of them are too real couple things. For example: "How to spend the right time together?" or "What happens if you feel like you’re drifting apart?" type of questions. That’s totally not relatable, right? A few topics that you’ve written down are: finances (how will you split the bill?), where you will live, personal space, and how you will divide the chores. Before you know it, your eyes start to close as you drift off to sleep.

When you wake up, it's because of the constant vibration from your phone. You check it and see that it’s still around 7 am. The vibration is from Tami’s texts. You quickly check her responses.

She lists a few topics, some of which are already written in your notes app. Then, there are some you haven't listed before:

1. Who is allowed to know about this pact? Damn, she’s right. You'll need to create your version of a love story either way.

2. How would this marriage be? Can each of you date other people, or do you want to be exclusive? Oh. Right. You’ve thought about this before, too. This is important.

3. The wedding. How big should it be? Yup, you still need to talk about this.

4. Physical intimacy? (P.S. Please talk about this, girl! You’re stupid if you’re not getting that dick) 

You roll your eyes. This is so her. But then you start to reflect on yourself. Sex? Of course, you're no virgin. You’re sure he’s not either. But, to be honest, you can’t really remember the last time you had sex. Damn! You think it was years ago with your last situationship. Yes, you’ve had your share of one-night stands, but that was in your early 20s. You just know that those kinds of activities are not that safe. Not that you judge anyone who does it, but for you, you usually do it with someone you trust pretty well. And there aren't a lot of men that you can trust to do that. Plus, the act is often disappointing. So, sex isn’t your top priority nowadays. Yes, you have your needs, but you could always take care of yourself. So far, so good. It’s manageable. You’re not sure how to bring this topic up to Kiyoomi, though. It feels wrong too to imagine stuff like that with him. You huff. You won't bring this up.

5. Children? Hmm, you haven’t really thought about this topic. 

Do you want children? Yes, you do, but it's not like you really want them. You guess it’s just because of an image of a perfect family you had in your head since you were little. This discussion will also complicate some financial topics. And you don’t know whether Kiyoomi wants children or not. So, you might skip this part. This is not something you considered when agreeing to this anyway.

6. Deal breakers? You can’t really think of what this would relate to in your relationship right now. Since there’s no romance involved, right? You might as well skip this part.

You type your thanks profusely to Tami and then start your Sunday morning by snacking on your energy bar. You'll have your breakfast with Sakusa. Then, you take a shower and get ready. After you finish getting ready, you check your phone and see some messages from Sakusa saying he’s on his way to your apartment. His trip to your place usually takes about 20 minutes. So, you sit on your couch and continue watching the series you haven’t finished.

A few minutes later, your phone vibrates. It's a text from Sakusa saying he’s arrived. You quickly respond and make your way downstairs. Spotting his car, you knock on the passenger seat window. He opens the door, and you slide in.

"Hey," you greet him.

"Hey," he replies. "Where do you want to eat?"

You suggest a restaurant not too far from your apartment that serves good avocado toast and truffle mushroom benedict. He agrees and starts to drive there.

As he drives, you take a moment to look at him. He's wearing a dark green corduroy jacket over a white shirt and black shorts. He’s not wearing his mask, but you notice the mask box between your seats. He smells good, a pleasant combination of his shampoo, soap, and cologne. He always smells good, you realize.

The car ride is quiet but comfortable, the kind of silence that feels natural rather than awkward. As you approach the restaurant, you feel a mix of anticipation and nervousness about the conversation that awaits.

As soon as you arrive, both of you order avocado toast and coffee. You finish your breakfast first, then you start the discussion. “So? Where do we start from here? Do you have anything in mind?” you ask.

Sakusa nods. “I do. Do you?”

“Yes,” you reply. Then you start to run through your list. For the financial topics, Sakusa insists on paying all the bills related to your living place: housing, electricity, and water. But you're confused. “Then, what should I pay for?” you ask.

“Some of the groceries, I guess.” Sakusa replies.

“What? No. I can’t. At least let me pay for the water or something, too?” you protest.

“Please. Just let me pay for that,” he insists.

You have never seen him plead before, but seeing his face now, you think this might be as close to pleading as he gets. “I’ve told you, you can leave some of your jobs if you’d like. It’s better for your health, too, I guess…” you can hear a hint of concern in his voice.

You're silent for a moment but then accept his offer, albeit reluctantly. Maybe you should try to relax a bit more. Isn't that one of the perks of this marriage pact? You then move to the next part, which is the living place. He suggests you move into his apartment, and you think it's more reasonable since he has three rooms in his apartment, allowing you to have one as your own room.

“How about personal space?” you ask.

“What about it?” Sakusa responds.

“Do you have a room or place that you won’t allow other people, like me, to enter?”

He’s silent for a bit. “My room.”

You nod your head. You’re no stranger to his need for personal space. In fact, you remember some of his past girlfriends complaining about it. He's the type of person who’s quite rigid about his boundaries. You'll try your best not to cross any of them. You express this concern to him, asking him to please let you know if you ever step over any boundaries. He answers with a simple "okay."

Next, you start to discuss the chores. You both conclude that he’ll be the one who cleans around the house, and you offer to be the chef. You’re not the best cook, but you’re also not bad. You'll do this since you'll have more spare time after letting go of some of your side jobs. Laundry will be done alternately each week.

Then, you start to discuss the topic list that Tami has given you. You both agree that the only ones who will know about this pact are the two of you, Komori, and Tami. You already told him that you shared this with her, and he’s understanding about that. He tells you that he already informed Komori about this plan as well. You’re a bit surprised, wondering whether Komori has known since the New Year party or before that. If he knew, he seemed nonchalant about it. But, he will definitely tease you about this.

The love story for both of you will be simple. You know each other since high school, secretly liked each other, and have been secretly dating for a year before deciding to get married. That’s just perfect. Your parents also know each other, and your mom has teased you about him before. Quite early in your friendship, even though you clearly stated to her that you considered him just a friend. Well, she might be quite shocked and cocky, having her “I told you so” moment upon hearing this wedding news. It’s okay; you’ll just have to deal with it for a bit.

You then mention the wedding and tell him that you actually want to have an intimate one. He agrees and chimes in that he needs to inform his manager as well since there will likely be some media coverage for an athlete's wedding. You nod, remembering Komori’s wedding. You hope there will be no big commotion from the public. You know he has some persistent fangirls and just hope they won’t give you threats or anything. Fingers crossed, you sigh. This is for Kiyoomi’s benefit too. You remember he always says he struggles with rejecting gifts and random confessions; maybe this marriage will reduce those kinds of things.

“How would this marriage be? Can each of us date another person, or do we want to be exclusive?” you read from your notes. He stares at you. “I think it’s up to you.”

You nod at his statement, understanding that it’s also up to him. It’s reasonable. Why would this marriage stop him from getting any girl he wants? You don’t know much about his hook-up activities, never inquiring about them either. He’s very private about that. You sigh mentally, feeling a tinge of insecurity, which you think is stupid. You can’t be unfair to him. “Yeah, let’s just be careful about it. We can’t let people know, though. It’ll look bad on us,” you respond, staring down at your phone.

You don’t hear his response and see the notes on your app, deciding to skip some of the topics that you're not sure how to bring up. “Is there anything you want to add?” you ask him.

“Will you take my family name?” he asks.

You think for a moment and nod. “I will.” Then, you start to repeat your name with ‘Sakusa’ in front of it in your head. You kind of want to laugh, thinking that you used to call him by his family name during your early years of friendship. Now, that name will be yours too.

After that, you delve into detailing the aspects of your wedding. You had stated earlier that you wanted an intimate ceremony, so you emphasize making the wedding small and estimating the budget, aiming to keep it as economical as possible and split it 50/50. Sakusa interjects again, insisting he’ll just pay it all. You don’t mind the budget since it’s much cheaper compared to what some of your friends usually spend. You also have enough savings for it. After a bit of disagreement, you settle on an 80/20 split.

Your wedding will be held in mid-February with a garden party theme, which you suggest. All the preparations will be handled by a wedding organizer that you both found together. Sakusa is actually very cooperative, offering to contact the wedding organizer and jotting down some of the information you discuss together on his phone’s notes. You thought he’d be bored with such detailed discussions, but he had even done a lot of research beforehand and gave you insights about the wedding experiences of his relatives and friends. You heard from some of your friends that their partners didn’t really put in the effort and handed it all over to the woman. So, you’re very glad he’s not like that. After all, marriage takes two people to make it work.

You both then decide that everything sounds good and finalize the plans. As you’re about to stand up, he suddenly grabs your hand. You look at him and see him hesitating a bit. 

“What? Is there something wrong?” you ask.

He then pulls you down, prompting you to sit again beside him. You stare at him curiously as his hand moves inside his jacket pocket, taking out something. It’s a box. A ring box! You realize, flabbergasted by his action. Your mouth falls open.

“Wait, wait. What?” you stammer, staring at the navy velvet ring box. 

He proceeds to open it, showing a silver ring. You notice that the ring features a row of detailed Forget-Me-Not flowers running into delicate leaves on either side of the band. You’re totally speechless. You didn’t expect him to give you a ring right now. You thought you could just buy some matching rings together that simply show “Yeah, we’re married.” But this ring in front of you looks expensive as hell.

“I know this kind of marriage is something you never expected. I know this is not something you dreamed of either. But let me make this a bit proper. I want you to have this,” Sakusa says.

You feel like crying, touched by his sentiment. He then slides the ring onto your finger, and you can’t help but thank him and hug him, driven by your emotions. You widen your eyes, taken aback, and mumble a quick apology, afraid that you’ve invaded his personal space or something. But he hugs you back.

It seems like this marriage pact isn’t so bad, after all.

[bitchinbarzal]

CASUALTY | J DOOHAN

Summary: in the battle between love and war, you were just a casualty.

-

The sneaking around wasn’t to benefit you, you didn’t really think it would change much. However, Jack thought it best to keep it all a secret. Not wanting to have a single thing tarnish his name on the come up to Formula One. He couldn’t be seen to be fucking the social media girl, not now.

This set up worked for a couple years, supporting him from the sidelines during F2. Never getting to congratulate him on the wins in public the way all the other girlfriends got to but you just accepted that, this is how it was.

You assumed that one day this set up would come to an end and that you would go public, you could post him on social media and vice versa, stopping the thirsty girls in his comment section.

As time crept on you came to realise this would never change, he was always going to hide you from the world. Leading to the screaming match you were having after witnessing him get awfully friendly with a girl in the club post Charles’ Monaco win.

“You always do this!”

“Do what? Dislike my boyfriend openly flirting with people in public like I don’t exist?!”

“You know I can’t do that with you, babe you understand-“ he stressed but you scoffed

“I actually don’t! I don’t get it how we’ve been together for years and we can’t come out about it! I want to be proud of you in public”

He sighed, pinching his forehead “We can’t”

“And why not?!”

“Because you work here! We can’t ever be public!” He bellowed, startling you with his volume.

Your brows furrowed “Ever? As in, you don’t ever intend to tell people we’re together? Like this has been a waste of what, two years of my life?!”

Jack’s face went from one of anger and outburst to worry upon seeing the tears lining your eyes “This really does mean nothing to you, god I’m a fucking idiot!”

“No, no it does! I love you, of course I do”

“It doesn’t feel like it!”

“Y/N just calm down” his hand dropped onto your shoulder and you just pushed it away “Don’t touch me”

The room fell silent, the only sounds being those still partying in Monacos streets.

You bit your bottom lip in an attempt not to sob

“Babe please, say something”

“I think we’re done Jack”

He nods “Ok, good idea we go to sleep and just clean slate in the morning” turning to his side of the bed.

You stayed still, shaking your head “No, no we’re done Jack. We can’t be together”

The sounds that escaped him weren’t comprehensible “You don’t mean that, you’re angry”

“You’re right, I’m hurt, angry and heartbroken and anyone who truly loved me wouldn’t make me feel that way. I’m gonna go share a room with the social team, see you around Jack”

He didn’t know what to say, speechless as he watched you collect your coat and kiss him on the cheek on your way out the room.

He couldn’t comprehend what was happening. This wasn’t real. In the morning he’d find you and you’d all be fine, this was just a fight.

He was wrong. In the morning he found out he’d been removed as a follower on your socials and you were gone from the hotel along with your team.

He hadn’t heard from you until he received a box to his door with your handwriting, the contents being stuff he’d left at your apartment. The memories from the past two years of his life squashed into a cardboard box.

He couldn’t stay stuck on it, he was moving quick and fast with Alpine. He knew you’d know.

When the call came in, he’d be driving in Canada he was ecstatic. Not only for the drive but he knew he’d be seeing you again. That you’d be there on media day.

The team knew he was looking for you when he walked in. They exchanged knowing glances.

“Jack this is Aaron, our social media manager. I don’t think you’ve met!”

Jack scowled “where’s Y/N?”

“Y/N quit…”

His heart dropped “W-what?”

“She just quit after Monaco, I don’t know”

He never drove in Canada. Sure this was his cosmic karma for what he did.

When the call came in during Saudi that he’d be an Alpine Driver for 2025 he wanted to call you immediately.

He paused before hitting call, unsure you’d care or that you hadn’t blocked him.

It got to two in the morning before he called, getting your voicemail

“I did it. I’m going to be fucking f1 driver, I really did it and i really wish you were here. God, I miss you”

The off season was spent in the gym, getting into the best shape he could.

Australia.

His home race was his first.

He was beyond nervous.

Social media, Aaron hadn’t stopped harassing him and while he appreciated it was his job Aaron didn’t seem as stealthy as you.

He qualified in the top ten and he was feeling on top of the world. Only one thing would make this better.

All of his family were there, all hosted in Alpine’s hospitality. He was just missing you.

On Sunday, despite his nerves he finished P9. Top 10.

He was celebrating as though he’d won the WDC.

His family were waiting for him in his garage, navigating to them when he stopped in his tracks.

You, stood with your old colleagues chatting away. The room fell silent when he saw you and you looked up with a cautious glance

“You’re here…”

“Congrats J, P9 that’s-“

“Shut up” he mumbled, striding across the room to kiss you. You melted into it, grasping at his forearms to balance yourself.

When you eventually pulled away for air you gasped lowly “shit, everyone-“

He shook his head “I care about you and only you. They do not matter. I’m really really sorry it took you losing your job to see that”

You didn’t get the chance to reply before Alex passed by the front of the garage “Hey Y/N! See you at work Monday?”

You looked up bashfully at a confused Jack

“So… I’m back on the grid I guess?”

“As long as you’re back with me, I’m supporting you wherever you go”

[asvterias]

𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 ~ 𝘥𝘪𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘫𝘰𝘩𝘯

dior masterlist

warnings: none

pairings: dior goodjohn ✘ black!fem!reader (not a celebrity)

summary: in which spending time with your girlfriend after

word count: 1.4k+

tag list: @addil244 @onxlyficcharacter @wtafidh @mymyapplesigh @cosmopretty @starless-nightz @silent-phantom120 @glwmcres @f4riedimples @babyzzlove @lov3rgiiirl

author’s note: kinda just got this idea and decided to flow with it.

being a teen actress wasn’t as fun as it seemed, there were pros and cons to that title. for instance, the overdue long hours of filming and attending to their personal lives afterward.

thankfully, today’s practice music session was soon over. dior knew if she spent one more hour in the studio, she’d go absolutely crazy in there. she needed a break, from overworking herself to the limit, despite you warning her about this numerous times.

once her friend said everything was all good, indicating the end of music practice, she instantly rushed out of there and started her journey to your house.

stumbling into your room, she watches you occupied by reading a book.

you looked so cute when concentrated, all caught up in your own world. she loved your quiet moments, giving her the chance to admire you as long as she pleased.

her eyes were slanted and tired, still holding some annoyance, a frown set upon her lips as she sluggishly held her bag against her shoulder.

“what’s wrong, baby?” you asked, discarding your book on the bedside table. instead of replying to your question, she shook her head and released an exhaustive moan from her mouth.

your girlfriend’s mood immediately brightens up at the sight of you, her tense shoulders and slanted tired eyes relaxed.

very begrudgingly, she sauntered over to you, crawling on the bed, and instantly snuggled up into your touch, gently resting her face on your chest. playing with her loose thick curls, you massage her head as you feel her sigh against you.

“nothing baby,” she finally spoke, partially muffled by her face in between your breasts.

“you don’t have to lie to me,” you reassure her.

she sighs yet again, nuzzling her head further into your chest.

“i just don’t wanna talk about it right now…if that’s okay with you.”

seemingly, you understood her statement with a soft nod, despite the small frown tugging at the ends of your lips. now wasn’t the time to be curious. she just wanted peace with her favorite girl and you were going to respect her wishes, no longer bothering dior on the subject any further until she’s ready.

you just wanted to comfort her, scratching her scalp slowly as a way to ease her worries.

from the moment dior laid eyes on you, she never knew how hard she’d fall for you, and if she could unconditionally fall in love harder with every moment spent with you. no one else made her feel like this before, completely smitten and in love, vaguely expressing her softer side, the vulnerability that weighs heavy in her heart can wither away just as easily. only you could achieve this and dior was determined to keep it that way.

“hmmm that’s okay with me, babe,” you pressed a soft kiss on her forehead. her forehead creases in response but relaxes.

dior was blessed to have such an understanding and caring girlfriend who never failed to comfort her with your affirmations. your thoughtfulness and unwavering support were a source of comfort and reassurance for her.

“thank you, you’re the best.”

“…do you wanna get on instagram live with your fans? i know it always calms you down,” you suggest, with a warm grin massaging her head.

all she did was hum once and slightly raise her eyebrows at the suggestion. as always, you were right, it was a good idea. somehow, she unleashes everything on instagram live, disposing of her worries, by just talking with her fans but not this time. in fact, it wasn’t even the idea she had in mind, wanting to rather display those needs right now. for you and to you.

“maybe later…” dior shuffled on you, leaning her head closer into your neck, “i’m too comfortable with my girl and she’s so addicting to not eat up right now.” she seductively whispered in your ear, her voice hoarsely as flush appeared on your cheeks.

“i thought you were tired,” you murmured, staring down at her. the butterflies in your stomach erupted widely, fluttering all around.

focusing your attention, ignoring dior’s intense stare, or how dangerously close her freshly done nails are teasing upwardly against your exposed thigh.

you knew what dior expected out of you. for you to give her a reaction, giving her the upper hand in this situation. normally, you’d always give in, handing dior’s dominance over you directly on a silver platter, but this time will be different. you refused to give her this satisfaction of dominance.

it was time for things to change, and they were going to change now and for good.

“i was,” she admits, looking down briefly at her fingers trailing across your thighs. you shuddered slightly, holding your breath, hoping your girlfriend wouldn’t notice. sadly, you were mistaken and she did notice, deciding to tease you even further, pretending to turn a blind eye to your small reaction. dior stares back up at you with an evil smirk, “but not anymore,”

“the sudden switch up is insane,” you flustered underneath her alluring gaze.

“well…what can i say, you’re my medicine, mamas,”

“whatever makes you happy,” you retorted with a heavy sigh.

“you; you make me beyond happy,”

“aren’t you quite the flatterer?” throwing a playful wink at the curly-haired girl.

“only for you,”

you inhaled softly at her comforting touch as her lips trailed down to your neck.

“don’t you wanna relax, though?” you asked her, goosebumps appearing all over your body from her magnetic touch, “with all the filming and the release of your first song, you really need your head in the game, you’re an aspiring actress after all,”

“oh, really?” she looks at you with a raised eyebrow with an unimpressed smile, “is that all i am to you? a multitalented aspiring actress, nothing else?”

“stop doing those rhetorical questions. you know i hate it when you do that,” you hit her shoulder, watching a smile form on her face, “we both know that you’re much more than that to me.”

“then stop treating me as such, and let me love you,” she finished her sentence with a seductive smile.

you felt your heart drop, a pit in your stomach forming massively, whether it was from an undeniable excitement or an unspoken fear, you didn’t know. either way, you wanted to remain unaware and live in the moment, the adrenaline pumping through your veins, your thoughts running wild, and your heart pounding against your chest.

you wanted to spur her even further, push her to the tipping edge, want her to lose all self-control, and have her way with you. fortunately, the perfect statement swiftly came to mind, and all that was needed was to confidently assert it.

“so, what’s stopping you then?”

she fell right into your trap, as the goodjohn girl leaned in for a kiss, and with a warm smile, you accepted it, hypnotized by her lips. both of your movements were slow-paced and gentle, and her hand caressed your cheek, deepening the intense kiss. slowly but surely, her lips trailed down to your jaw, settling into your neck, placing small wet chaste kisses there. she sucked on your neck, tugging at the bare flesh, almost nipping at it, reveling in your soft whimpers and moans. if anything, your noises of pleasure only further encouraged her to create a small hickey and she did just that, allowing you to throw your head back.

oh, and she did love you alright. she loved you so much that your neck was covered in hickeys, leading up to the point where it was absolutely embarrassing for you.

due to your brown skin color, it wasn’t that noticeable unless someone was really observing your neck very thoroughly and pointed it out.

clearly, it was very stupid of you to give her that suggestion with your approval. you shouldn’t have even made that remark. of course, your mouth moved faster than your brain, telling you to dive headfirst and forget about the consequences.

next time, you definitely weren’t underestimating your girlfriend’s tactics.

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© asvterias, 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works onto any other platforms without my permission.