#that you are part of this place that has made my world brighter

[pearlymel]

"The Masks We Wear"

Summary: as a journalist, you are itching to find the identity of this mysterious hero. But could it be that the hero is closer to you than you think?

Wc: 7.3k eat up

Warnings: Wriothesley x afab!reader, gn! reader, modern au, hero and villian au (one of each), reader is a journalist/cameraman, fluff, making out, crack (i laughed a lot writing this), angst (oops), one small sex scene, slightly under the influence, cursing, it's pretty unrealistic, petnames used: sunshine, love, and sweetheart.

Notes: i poured my heart and soul into this, i think it's my best piece so far ^^ give it a chance, maybe you'll love it. (Pleasepleasepleaseplease) Rbs are greatly appreciated!

Credits: banner art by the great @/danijaci

Click!

The city is absolutely beautiful today. No, no. It’s not because of the lights that makes the place brighter and a bit more magical, how it seems livelier with a group of teenagers laughing together while buying street foods together, or the old couple that seem still very much in love, the gentleman kneeling down and tying her shoes just to make sure she wouldn’t trip this time.

Humans can be cute, you think.

But of course, among those innocent ‘humans’ are those who desire destruction.

This time, you think you might have caught something in the shadows, and you stare intently at your camera, zooming it in to see the faintest color blending in with the darkness. Hair? A part of clothes? You don’t know, but you got it.

you have this obsession of finding out who the hero of this city was, or even the villian. Although, you would be technically be walking into death if you try finding out who the villian is.

Where did this hero come from? No one knows. Sure the crime rate has lowered, but it felt like the world became even more messed up.

It all started a couple of years ago when you were in your college days, one day almost dying from a falling building, and you thought you saw the scythe waiting to take your soul at that very moment but, no.

The mysterious hero of the city that you never thought you would never encounter carried the building with his super strength power, apparently.

He who has no name, took your hand and lead you into a safer area with the police.

cliché story, right. But that’s what got you into journalism and media now.

And let’s say… you’re too far into the deep black hole to back down now.

The almost blinding light made you come back to your senses, the sounds of engine roaring in the air as the bike approached you, and your shoulders were already slumped.

“How did you find me?” You raise your voice due to the loud engine running, covering parts of your vision from the light.

“Lucky guess.” Wriothesley replied gruffly, pulling his helmet off and shaking his head slightly to fix up his messy strands.

“Care to explain what on earth are you doing here in this shady alleyway? At nine thirty where the moon is out and wolves could be coming for you?” He starts scolding you, quirking an eyebrow when you give him the bored expression, and he immediately mimics it back.

“Taking pictures.”

“Of the rats?”

“Wriothesley.” You shoot him a look and he raises his hands in the air. “I understand your… obsession. But it could hurt you in the process, mentally and physically.”

You know he’s saying all this because he cares so much about you. Loves you too much that it would break his soul piece by piece if one day what you’re doing will hurt you.

“Hop in, sweetheart.” He hands you the extra helmet, and you take it with a sigh. Securing it around your head before taking your place behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he revved the engine.

The whole ride back was silent, yet traffic, which entirely ruined the whole mood. With the constant car horns ringing in your ear.

You tap at his thigh to grab his attention, “Why’s it traffic?” You grumble, rising yourself from the seat to look at the row of cars trying to get through.

“Not any holidays or events i can think of,” he responds back to you.

Red mixed with orange fills your vision, suddenly the car at the very front explodes. The car parts flying in the air and landing at the other vehicles which makes you frozen in shock.

Wriothesley’s clenches his hands tightly as he turns the bike around, speeding his way far away from the scene. “Hold onto me tight, and don’t look back, you hear?” He yells enough to grab your attention, and your arms tightens around him, but you have your head turned around to see the people yelling and dashing out of the vehicles. You want to capture the moment with your phone so you could submit it in for the news, but you know more than to ignore Wriothesley right now.

It’s not rare to see destruction happen in your city, it’s just… terrifying every time anybody witnesses it.

Maybe it wasn’t an accident, maybe it was planned.

“You’re not allowed to go out after seven.” Wriothesley makes it clear to you with his firm tone as you both step inside your shared apartment, locking the apartment with a click. He then tosses his keys into a bowl on a small table, before turning to look at you.

“Are you seriously setting a curfew for me? Please. what happened was not new—”

Your face is now being cradled by his rough hands, but the way he swipes a thumb under your eyebags really makes you melt. And you forget what you were going to say when his lips curl the slightest.

“I don't want anything happening to you. Ever.” He takes you in his arms, holding you like you were the most precious thing he ever held. “I didn't mean to pressure you like that. I'd hate it if you were in the position of those injured people.”

You pat his back to reassure him that hopefully nothing like that will happen. “And, if, hypothetically, something like that happened; What would y—”

“I'll kill everyone.” he doesn't even let you continue before he answers, though the chuckle against your hair followed after makes your tense shoulders relax.

“maybe not to that extent,” he lifts your head up to lean in and press a tender kiss on your forehead.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“what is it?”

“… something or someone.”

Your boss gives you a nonchalant sharp look when you eagerly showed him the bits you managed to capture last night before you were interrupted by your great boyfriend.

His eyes squints at the more of a blurred photo that sits on the display of your camera, taking the glasses that hanged from his collar.

The sigh afterwards makes you feel discouraged when he hands you back your camera.

“i see it.” He starts and you perk up immediately.

“it looks like a blurred image of a fucking bird taking a shit on the electrical cords.” You press your lips into a thin line at his description. Too detailed of a description,

what a bastard.

It.. certainly didn't look like that.

You clear your throat, pinching the bridge of your nose to compose yourself.

“You're lucky i like your determination or you would've been fired,” he utters out in a lax tone, resting his glasses on his big bald head that you want to spill with ketchup.

“Keep looking, i need the hero's face, details, anything. Just think of the money you and i could both earn.” He seems too enthusiastic about it, showing you determination with his fists pressing together and his wide ear to ear smile.

You leave work early that day, starting your daily walk of looking around for at least two hours or—one hour?

No, Wriothesley would be too worried if you came back after… nine. Your words not his.

You need to rearrange a schedule in your head.

Step one: somehow convince your boss that you need to leave early everyday.

Step two: search every nook and cranny of the city, ask every shady person if they get to talk to the hero in person or got a glimpse of his name.

Step three: go to the dark web— is that car flying infront of you right now?!

Shit. Just why does everything have to go down wherever path you go?

The people around you panics, and you equally panic with them because you're no fucking hero to tell them to get away from that flying car.

You take your camera out hurriedly from its case that slung around your shoulder, pressing record while frantically looking around. The ground shakes, it shakes so much that it feels like an earthquake almost.

“it's him! The villian!” Someone shouts from the distance, and just like that the screams that follows are in sync.

You know why the ground shook, the street has become a battlefield for the hero and villain fighting together with all their strengths, the air is filled with tension as they both clash in an epic confrontation. The ground trembles beneath your feet again as they traded blows, sending shockwaves through the battlefield. The once tranquil street has now been transformed into a chaotic arena of power and destruction. As the battle rages on. The hero and villain continue their fight, each strike more powerful than the last, their movements a blur of speed and precision.

You try capturing anything with your camera, but your hand shakes that it was impossible. When the villian lands a powerful punch on the hero’s shoulder, sending him way back, it makes you think it's time to leave.

You run with the rest without stubbornness this time. You should've listened to Wriothesley, why did you always have to be so curious about everything?

This curiousity will kill you next after the cat.

“Taxi!” You shout, waving your hand at the yellow vehicle, but every taxi seems to ignore the people's pleas, determined to save themselves instead.

Guess it's time to burn calories and run back home.

You were a panting mess once you reached back to your comfort space, eyes zeroing at the running television in the living room. Watching the newscaster talk about today's battle and how it affected the shops and buildings.

It seems like the battle lasted twenty minutes before the villian gave up and fled away.

Your head snaps to the bathroom once you hear the sink water drip, you didn't even think if he would be here this early.

“Wriothesley,” you say breathlessly when you swing the door open, arms squeezing his side as you take a deep breath in.

“woah, easy there. What happened?” He takes you in, hand rubbing at your arm.

“i was…” nevermind. Maybe you shouldn't tell him what you have witnessed, he'll know once he checks the news.

You only realise that he was chest bared at the moment, and you furrow your eyebrows once you see a bruise on his shoulder.

“What happened?” It was your turn to ask, talking a gentle finger and running it over the bruise, earning a hiss from him.

“was changing the car oil at the repair shop.” He mumbles, gaze turning to the mirror, “then accidentally hit my shoulder once i got up.” he turns his arm, swinging it slowly.

“but you don't work at a car repair shop?”

“it's a side hustle, sunshine.”

“why didn't you tell me?” You press on, and he hangs his head low, both of his hands gripping the sink bowl.

Okay, maybe you have annoyed him a little too much now. Upon sensing your incoming apology, Wriothesley smiles at you.

“don't worry your pretty little head too much. The bruise will fade.”

“i can massage you later?” You offer, and he lets out a breathy chuckle. “You're the best.” He gives you a chaste kiss on your lips on his way out, which makes you feel a little fuzzy.

The evening gave way to the night sky, and you found yourself lying on the bed, replaying the video captured on your camera. The footage was far from perfect, shaky and lacking in clarity, but it still managed to capture fragments of the intense confrontation between the hero and the villain. You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement as you watched the brief glimpses of the clash that had taken place earlier.

How the villian managed to blow a punch on the hero’s shoulder, sending him way back. Must've hurted.

It's almost like the same spot Wriothesley got his bruise on.

…

Wait, the same spot?  You sit up on the mattress, replaying the video on repeat of their fight.

The hero was about the same height as him, the same physique, same cake—

You shake your head, focus. Wriothesley can't be the hero, no that's impossible. He was a busy man, doing… side jobs and whatnot.

Sure he was kind, always helping everyone, even walking the neighbors dog because they got sick one day.

But then again… you never saw Wriothesley and the hero at the same time,

Or was it merely a coincidence, a random alignment of physical features?

“Sunshine?” You gasp when you snap your head up to find Wriothesley leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

“y-yes?” You set the camera aside on top of the drawer. He moves closer, seating himself on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixated on you then glancing at he camera.

“dinner's ready.”

You nod, silence fills the room after. You know he's waiting for you tell him more, on why you were so shocked.

“was looking at the hero's pictures.”

“not mine? I'm wounded.”

You roll your eyes, a slow smile creeping up your face, and he loves it. He takes it as an invitation to lean closer, suddenly pinning you down on the bed to capture your lips with his.

It's slow, and gentle. It makes you hum softly, taking his face in your hands to kiss him back, moving your lips together until you were gasping for air.

You forget you were even suspicious of him a second ago.

Your fingers lightly trace his jawline and you feel the pricks of his growing facial hair. A small smile plays on your lips as you inform him in a soft tone, "You need to shave." Wriothesley chuckles softly, the sound warm and low. He reaches up to your hand, gently taking hold of it and bringing it to his lips, pressing a kiss on your palm. "Is that why you stopped kissing me?" He says, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "No! I find you more.. attractive. Plus it.. yeah, it feels like little needles on my face.” you admit quietly.

Wriothesley presses his face into your neck, his lips tracing soft kisses along your skin. His hands begin roving your body, each touch sending a gentle shiver across your flesh. He whispers quietly next to your ear, his voice low and smooth as he responds, "I'll shave after dinner." The sensations of his lips against your neck and his hands exploring your body mix together, creating a heady combination that heightens your senses and ignites a slow fire within you.

“I'll.. help.” You whisper, bringing both of your arms to wrap them around his back. “What a sweetheart.” he uttered out, voice muffled from trying to mold into your skin.

Your mind stops working for a second when he presses his knee gently between your legs to pull them apart, “Wriothesley, what about dinner?” You frantically ask him, tugging his hair up so both of your gazes could meet. And the almost drunken expression he has on makes you let out a shaky breath.

“later,” he drawls, his fingers tracing lazily along your sides.

Hero? Pftt, what hero? This is just your wriothesley, it's quite impossible for him to be the hero.

You snap out of your daydream when your colleague hands you a cup of coffee, he raises an eyebrow at you and you smile back awkwardly.

A sip of the coffee to get a bit of energy, but only just a bit, since too much caffeine makes you nervous.

“You filmed the crazy battle yesterday?” Your colleague sneaks from behind you, watching the video replay again on your camera.

“they do movies about them now, insane huh?”

“well atleast the hero knows he's popular.” You reply bluntly, taking anothsr sip from your hot beverage.

“flash news, someone heard that his name starts with the letter ‘W’ or som—”

You spit out your coffee all over your white attire. You both exchange surprised looks, but you quickly wipe your mouth using the back of your hand.

“where exactly did you hear that?” You get straight to the point, gesturing them to sit next to you.

“from my father's friend’s cousin sister.”

His reply makes your eyes twitch, from who and who?

“Okay…” you whisper, turning around and thinking of the utter nonsense they spouted.

“you don't believe me.” he sighed, “I've been telling this to everyone in the building but no one is believing me! Just tryna’ do my job here.”

Let's say maybe you believe him. But the dots are connecting too fast that you want to refuse from believing it.

Was your target closer to you than you had expected?

“I'm clocking out, can you cover for me today?” You inform your colleague, and he crosses his arms while eyeing you up and down.

Your roll your eyes, “I'll be the cameraman for next week. So you could get three days off.” You force a smile and they smile back enthusiastically.

Wriothesley is definitely home. Earlier than the usual time he'd be back.

Oh, he's asleep on the couch. Leaning back tiredly with an almost stern expression on, but his body seems relaxed.

Now is the time to do anything. Investigate? Go through his things without his permission? That sounded all awful… surely he's not hiding any—

“go search his things.” You furrow your eyebrows when the devil on your left shoulder speaks, it makes you rub your face in annoyance.

Then a sudden white little angel poofs on your right shoulder with a disappointed face, “no, don't do it. He's a little scary when he gets mad. But he'd never betray you!” you feel reassured at it's words and you nod in agreement.

“don't listen to it. He could hurt you if you keep it a secret.” The red devil whispers again and it makes you shiver a bit.

“he would never hurt you.” The angel frowns.

“yes he would, he's a man.”

“a good man.”

“yeah? You're no better than me, you just want that—”

“okay shut up both of you. Shoo.” You brush both of your shoulders off before taking a deep breath to brace yourself.

You'll just search his.. clothes.

You feel guilty once you pocket his jackets and pants in his side of the wardrobe, checking every hidden pocket thoroughly while glancing at the door once in a while to make sure he doesn't wake up.

As your fingers brush against his jacket, you notice an unusual sensation – a cool, metal feeling hidden underneath the fabric. Your eyes widen in surprise as you recognize it to be the form of a gun's handle. A mixture of curiosity and concern floods through you, freezing you in place.

It really is a gun. You study it carefully, turning it around and feeling it's heaviness in your palm.

But you feel your heart run out of your ribcage when two pairs of arms wrap tightly around you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

Shit.

“hi,” he whispers next to your ear, but you're too nervous to even look back at him.

“nice thing you got there.” He muses, and you feel like you're losing oxygen once he tightens his grip around you even more.

“… i just found it.” You mutter, mostly to yourself. Your head hanging too low to avoid his eyes.

“Could've just asked me, no?” He clicks his tongue, almost in disappointment.

“i have it on me because—”

“because you use it for the good, right? Because you're the hero?” Your voice is shaky when you ask, the gun in your hand shaking with you, and you're afraid to drop it.

“hero?” Wriothesley repeats, shaking you gently awake and you gasp harshly, taking in big breaths, your boyfriend immediately trying to soothe you.

it was a dream.

“you were mumbling something about a hero in your sleep. Are you okay?” He asks in concern, brushing a strand off your face. You were sweating too much for your liking.

“when did i get here?” You look around, taking your palms to rub the sleepiness off. “Right when you got off work. You slept on the bed without changing your clothes.”

Oh… so you never checked his clothes. Deciding to just sleep instead.

Your head turns back to the wardrobe, staring at it intently. Could the jacket be in the same arrangement as you found it in your dream? Or will the gun also be there?

“you're going to poke a hole through it if you keep staring.” He stifles a laugh, and you couldn't help but try to smile as well. “Drink up. Slow sips.” He offers you a glass of water, and you hold the glass firmly in your hand.

“so… what was your dream about? Even this hero appears in your dreams? Can't say I'm not jealous.”

“You'll have grey hairs too early from overthinking.” You tease, sitting upright in bed, “oh no, you already do, old man.” you frown, tracing the grey strands along with his black hair. He watches in amusement.

Wriothesley lets out a deep sigh, “give your old man a break. They're a badge of wisdom and experience,” he rests his head on your lap, nuzzling close as you massage his scalp.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Breaking news: the ‘’lola” flower shop sets on fire just three hours ago. Our dear hero saves the day yet again, protecting the old lady just in time before her shop explodes. The cause of the fire is still unknown…”

Destruction out of nowhere again. Accidents out of nowhere again.

The voice of the newscaster on the television fades away in this little diner you're in. You drive your attention away from it, instead focusing now on the Polaroid pictures laid out infront of you.

The hero always wore a mask to cover his identity, obviously. But even after watching the countless of interviews he had, the deep tone slightly matches Wriothesley’s voice, or maybe he's changing his tone on purpose. You can see it by zooming in on the video, how he's catching his breath everytime he speaks when he's just sitting down.

Asthma? Nah.

You tap your fingers impatiently on the table, this is not helping at all, and the slightest itch in your brain worsens as the time goes by.

You think about giving up on this, but the possibility of finding the answer on how or why did all of this happen is probably closer to you than you think.

“Bad guys never end with their schemes. Bunch of attention seekers.” The hero speaks on the television, and you hum curiously as the hero salutes the camera playfully before disappearing from the crowd.

Is it possible that there are multiple heros? Working all together in some basement and taking turns to go out and do a better job than the police?

Possibly, and you write down your new theories down on your little notepad.

You check your phone next, Wriothesley still hasn't answered you back from your most recent text to him.

It's nothing to worry about, but the thought that he's busy saving the city is gnawing at you.

Batman?

You shake your head again, gathering your things to stand up from your seat. You should be blunt asking him about it tonight.

It's cold. Colder than usual. Was the air conditioning on? No. But the windows are sure wide open. You look around the living room before closing the windows and curtains from the outside world, as you draw the curtains, the outside world becomes obscured, leaving the room in a soft semi-darkness.

“Wriothesley, honey?” You call out softly, peeking through the bathroom, not there. The bedroom? Nope.

That leaves the kitchen, you slowly peek your head in he kitchen, and sure enough, he was there.

Wriothesley was rubbing his face in exhaustion while mumbling words under his breath that you can't quite hear. Having one singular glass of some drink in his hand.

“hero this.. hero that..” you finally listen to his mumbles, which makes you furrow your eyebrows together.

"Wrio...?" You call out softly, flipping the switch to turn on the light. His sharp eyes immediately dart up to look at you, and you can't help but shiver under his intense stare. You let out a small gasp of surprise as he suddenly stands up, the glass in his hand slipping from his grip and shattering on the ground along with its contents.

Taken aback by his sudden movement, you instinctively take a step back as he approaches you. But before you can even register what's happening, he crashes his lips against yours in a hasty, rushed kiss. Caught off guard, you cling tightly to him, desperately seeking support to prevent yourself from toppling over.

“You love me,” Wriothesley's voice breaks through the heated kiss, his words coming out in a low, guttural groan. He grips the back of your thighs, hoisting you up against the wall and wrapping your legs around his waist. “right?” His voice holds a hint of vulnerability and desperation, as if seeking reassurance and affirmation of your feelings for him.

And when you don't answer him right away, he takes your lower lip between his teeth, nipping at it gently, “answer me.” He almost growls.

“love, what are you taking about? Are you drunk?” You ask breathlessly in concern, your lips feeling swollen.

His jaw clenches, “Why can't you say it?” he inhales your perfume, your scent filling him that it makes him groan, his mouth lavishing your neck and collarbone, leaving kisses and littering marks then soothing the area with his tongue that it makes your pant softly, pressing your face into his hair while your fingers weaving through his black-greyish strands.

“i love you,” you utter quietly, and it suddenly makes him start grinding his hardened length against you. “I'm sorry in advance, sweetheart.”

One minute you're confused about his words, and then the next he's pounding so hard into you like there was no tomorrow.

Strings of “don't leave me,” and “i love you’s,” are echoed in the air. Wriothesley's mouth moves against yours with a sense of urgency and haste, his tongue gliding and tangling with yours in a fervent dance. The bed creaks so loud underneath you that you think it might break anytime, the embarrassment of the headboard banging against the wall immediately gone once he hits your sweet spot rapidly.

Poor neighbors

"Wrio... Wriothesley?” you slowly flutter your eyes open, still in the hazy realm between sleep and wakefulness. The sunlight streams through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room, and you blink a few times as you take in your surroundings. A quiet sense of contentment washes over you as you remember the events of the night before, the memories of Wriothesley's body against yours and his lips on yours still fresh in your mind.

You prop yourself up using your elbows, only to look down at the sight of your sleeping lover with his head pressed up on your chest. You collapse back on the bed with a tired sigh.

You still couldn't understand the reasoning behind his.. desperate actions last night. He seemed so pent up and stressed, you'll forgive him this time.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• It's the day where you're covering for your colleague, being the cameraman for tonight's news. Yes, tonight.

Wriothesley would kill you if he knew you were working so late at night, but only because he cares about your safety. Good thing he's out of the city for a day.

Or he claims to be out of the city for some important work.

You press the button on your video camera, adjusting the lens to focus on the newscaster standing in front of the camera, holding the microphone with a serious expression. The news van is parked in front of a desolate, run-down neighborhood known for its high crime rate and dangerous reputation. The newscaster speaks into the camera, her eyes boring into the lens as she reports on the neighborhood.

“We are now standing in the heart of one of the most dangerous areas in the city. This neighborhood is notorious for its high crime rate and volatile atmosphere.”

Your senses are heightened at this rate and you really try to focus but the moment you hear the faint crunch of leaves, you lose composure just a bit.

Okay you're a bit scared, but as long as your workmates are he—

a group of armed gang members suddenly appear from the alleyways between the buildings, surrounding the news van and the camera crew. The newscaster, taken off guard, gasps and steps back.

The gang members brandish their weapons, circling the news crew menacingly. One of them shouts at the newscaster, waving his gun in the air. “Hold it right there, pretty lady. This is our turf! You ain’t gonna be broadcasting nothing about us!”

You're about to shit your pants for real this time.

“Drop your cameras and get outta here, or things are gonna get real ugly real fast,” he growls, and one of them points the gun right on your camera.

“I'm talkin’ to you too.”

Yeah, you're not going to fight anyone and act all big. You simply drop the camera on the ground to raise your hands in the air.

As the gang members close in on the news crew, the atmosphere is suddenly shattered by the sound of footsteps pounding against the pavement. Everyone turns to see a tall, muscular figure approaching from the distance.

It's the hero.

You watch in awe as the hero strides towards the group of armed gang members, his movements fluid and precise. With a swift swing of his fist, he lands a powerful punch on the leader's face, sending him stumbling backwards. The other gang members are taken aback by his sudden appearance and the display of force, their eyes widening in surprise and fear. They exchange nervous looks, realizing they're facing a much stronger opponent than they anticipated.

“Hey, let's go!” Your workmate calls for your name. Her hand waving at you so you could all retreat back to the van.

And before you could follow, the van explodes.

The sudden explosion catches you off guard, jolting you out of your stupor. Shouting in surprise, you recoil from the loud blast, ducking instinctively as debris and fragments fly through the air. Your colleague, sitting next to you in the van, lets out a terrified yell as the force of the explosion propels the driver backward. The van shudders and lurches from the impact, the windows shattering and various objects sent flying.

“in the building! Let's go!” All three of you dash to protect yourselves inside this tall company building.

“I will call the police,”

“but the hero is here!” the driver of the van speaks, almost yelling in frustration.

“the hero is also a human. Just a strong one. We can't rely on him—” but before you could continue, you all cover your ears once you hear gunshots come from outside.

Ohmygosh. It’s—it could possibly be Wriothesley who's getting hurt right now. What are even the chances?!

“Fine! Just call the fucking police!” The driver gives up, leaning back against the wall while breathing heavily.

You want to go out there. You want to see. It's your chance to see who the hero is if he got hurt. Just to get the crumbs of news in exchange for your life apparently.

When it grows quiet, you peek outside, “it's clear, I'll take a look—”

“No, you're not.” her hand is firm as she grips your wrist, “just let them go.” He, on the other hand, scowls.

“Be safe!” She shouts at you as you make a run for it, running down the alleyway while looking left and right.

Someone's in the area.

You dart behind the nearby dumpster, heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline courses through your veins. Hiding as best you can, you press yourself against the rough metal, trying to keep your breathing steady and quiet. Peeking out from behind the dumpster, you cautiously scan the surroundings, trying to catch a glimpse of someone nearby. For now, the area seems to be clear, but you can't shake the feeling that someone is in the vicinity, lurking in the shadows.

“Where ya at, lil’ birdie?” You cover your mouth when you hear someone speak, it sends a chill down your spine and you can feel your heart drumming in your ears.

Your sharp eyes turn to your side to find a metal rod, you don't hesitate to grab it before smacking the shit out of the guy.

No that did not happen, but you wish it did.

Instead, the minute you see his feet pass the dumpster, with a swift movement, you grab hold of both of his ankles, using your weight and leverage to pull them out from under him. He lets out a pained shriek as he suddenly loses his balance and topples to the ground, his body hitting the pavement with a thud.

Alright, you can be cool sometimes.

Stepping at his hands to hear him cry again, you run put of the place, making turns and finally spotting the hero sitting down against the building wall while panting, seemingly exhausted.

“…” you take slow steps once you approach him, looking down at him with your eyes already glistening.

This is it, you just have to confirm it.

Your hand pulls at his mask, “Wrio—”

Huh?

This…

Is not

Wriothesley.

“Ah, what the fuck?” He grunts, the blonde grabbing the mask from your hands and you take a step back.

“Elias?!” You yell out in confusion, it's your colleague that you're covering for supposedly today's shoot.

“You're the hero??”

“not a word. Scram, you freak.” he mutters, eyes diverting away from you and staring up at the roof. “The roof,” he whispers to himself, making the effort to stand back at his knees.

Is this bitch serious? He's the last person you expected to be the hero. With his stupidly arrogant and lax attitude.

You give him an almost death stare, studying his features again before making your way out.

You need to check the other people that were with you.

But when you arrive back at the building, they were gone.

Did the police arrive? You don't hear any sirens. Could they have possibly went up on one of the floors to hide?

You find yourself in the elevator next, watching as the doors close with your hands clasped infront of you nervously.

You take deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart and steady your nerves. Hey, at least there's nice elevator music.

As the elevator comes to a halt, the doors slide open with a soft ding, revealing the rooftop and the figure standing in the open space.

There's a figure standing at the edge of the building, you can see the person's silhouette clearly now, but you can't make out their features just yet.

Your steps are hesitant as you slowly approach the figure, the wind gently billowing around you. The city lights twinkle below, but your attention is entirely focused on the person standing at the edge of the roof. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever may come, and call out tentatively, "Hello?”

Your voice rings in the air, that the person's shoulders tense.

When they look around, you're met by the same blue eyes you've known for three years now.

“Wriothesley.” You whisper, in shock, breathlessly under your breath.

He's holding.. a gun? The same gun you remember seeing in your dream.

Something in his mind snaps when you turn around, in fear. Like it was a mistake to ever see him in the first place.

Wriothesley doesn’t even give himself time to think before his body suddenly reacts, suddenly reaching out and circling his hand around your wrist to forcibly tug you back.

He yanks hard enough that you lose your balance and fall against him, his other arm coming up to wrap around your shoulders, preventing you from going anywhere.

“W-wrio—”

“think it's time we talk, sunshine.” He speak into your ear.

When you try to move the slightest from his hold, he grips you around him tighter. You figure it's best to stay still for now.

“what? Are you going to kidnap me now?” You manage to chuckle out, nervously though, your voice coming out more shaky than you intended to.

“Is that going to satisfy your little fantasy? What, I should play into it and shove you into a corner, keep you under my thumb until you’re begging me to set you free? Or no… you want to be saved by the hero.”

"You know you're not helping with your case, right? You really sound like the bad guy now.”

You’ve definitely found his breaking point because that comment makes him snap.

Wriothesley suddenly whirls you around so you’re facing him before he’s pinning you against the nearest wall, his body practically covering your own.

“Well…” He whisper, raising an eyebrow calmly in the way you look being at his mercy. “Aren’t I?”

Your jaw practically hangs at his words. Is he... Playing the bad guy now?

Or was he really… not the opposite of the hero?

He sees the shiver you try so hard to suppress and smirks at that, clearly satisfied with your reaction, “What’s wrong, sunshine? Finally realize that the man you’ve been dating isn’t the hero you've obsessing over?” He chuckles.

“i… i knew it—”

“You didn’t,” he says, his tone suddenly becoming cool and firm.

Wriothesley leans forward, pressing into you so that you’re smashed between him and the wall. His hand suddenly comes up, cupping your jaw so that he tilts your chin up to look directly into his eyes.

“If you’d known, you’d never have come within twenty feet of me. You’d never have been alone with me or spent a single night in our bed.”

He's right. And you hate it. You feel betrayed, lied to, even.

It makes you rethink your life choices.

You've gotten too comfortable with him that you didn't even think about him being the villian. You've gotten too close while you were being a complete idiot.

“you hid it.”

Wriothesley laughs, the sound almost sounding cold, “of course I hid it, sunshine. I wasn’t going to just come strutting in wearing a big, red sign saying ‘look at me, I’m a bad guy!’ was I?”

You clench your fists together, “you tricked me.”

“Tricked? No.” He shakes his head slightly. “I simply… left out key details.”

“Why?”

“ah, there it is.” He steps back, giving you space to breath, to recollect your thoughts.

“why? Because the hero isn't a hero. He started all of this destruction. Why? To get fame, recognition, power, and to be seen, to look like he's doing something when he's not.” He lets out all in one breath, and you lips part again.

“four years ago when the building almost fell on you? He did that, on purpose. then saved you to make it look like he's the one that everyone needs.”

What the hell?

“Wriothesley, we were strangers to each other four years ago. How did you know?” You don't hesitate to step closer to get more answers out of him, but he only stares at you.

You swallow thickly when he draws infront of you once again, “i did this all for you, love. I-i will do everything in my power to stop him, i will kill him so you wouldn't get hurt—”

“Okay, fucker. Out of my way,” Elias, the ’hero’, suddenly barks, and without warning, a gunshot rings out. The bullet pierces through Wriothesley's shoulder, causing him to flinch and stagger backwards.

Your eyes widen in horror as you watch the scene unfold. "Wriothesley!" you cry out, watching as he turns around despite the injury and charges towards Elias.

Despite the pain he must be in, Wriothesley doesn't relent. Ignoring the gunshot wound, he barrels towards Elias with unmatched determination, closing the distance between them.

"Bastard," Wriothesley manages to grit out as he collides with Elias, knocking him off his feet and sending them both crashing to the ground.

You don't hesitate to rush forward, with adrenaline fueling your actions, you move quickly towards them as they roll dangerously close to the edge of the roof.

"Stop!" you shout, your voice filled with desperation. "You'll fall!”

And surely enough, Your two hand clamps down on Wriothesley's, desperately grasping onto anything you can to prevent him from plunging off the edge.

Meanwhile, Elias grips Wriothesley's leg, using his strength to anchor him in place. The three of you hang there, suspended over the city, Wriothesley's body along with Elias’s dangling in the air.

“Sweetheart—”

“shut the fuck up I'm not letting go.” They're both too heavy, the feel of his fingers slipping away from yours increases everytime you try to pull them up.

Elias is purposely pulling Wriothesley's leg down to drop them both, your lips quiver, crying when two of his fingers slip now.

“hey,” his voice is soothing when he calls for you.

“at least… i protected you till the very end, right?” He tries smiling but it only makes the lump in your throat grow.

“i love you.”

“Wriothesley!”

…

“Wriothesley—!” You gasp harshly when you open your eyes so wide, finding that your hand was already reaching out for nothing.

You rest your hand on your chest before leaning back on your seat.

“are you okay?” The newscaster, the friend you made, offers you her handkerchief so you could swipe the sweat off your face.

“i think… continuesly searching about this, is making you stressed.” She points out, looking at the papers and drawings splayed out on your desk.

More theories of the disappearances of the hero and villian. Not their death. Their bodies were never found.

“it's been a year.”

The realization is like a punch to the gut as you bring a sweaty palm to rub at your temples.

“This is not over.” You whisper, more to yourself than to her. “We got no more trouble. No more heroic or bad guy news. The world is back to normal, almost like they never existed huh?”

Never existed.

She then suddenly gasps, which catches you off gaurd, “are engaged??” She eyes at the gem resting on your left ring finger.

The ring you found in one of his jacket pockets when you sorted his things out.

“yeah…” you decide to drawl out before sitting upright on your seat.

“now, if you'll excuse me, i got work to do.”

You're never going to stop searching, to find another answer of the question; 'why?'

Even if it will mean risking your life this time.

[blkkizzat]

WFH!Nanami

Work From Home Nanami = best house husband

a/n: lol this is nanami brainrot while I wait for my Toji fic to get beta'd so I know how dog it is. ETA: FYI, this is a semi-repost of a self-ship collab with a now deactivated account. I repurposed my selfship part to reader and expanded to WFH. cw: smut (pussy pounding, gagging on CAWK) fluff, nanami being the perf husband and male specimen per usual wc: 1.6k

WFH!Nanami doesn’t have to worry about waking up early to go into the office but he still rises with the sun to get his day started and do his favorite thing, which is to spoil you. Waking you up with gentle kisses, placing a hot espresso by the bedside and being your personal snooze button when you tell him 5 more minutes (he is so punctual it will be 5 mins on the dot). 

You will still likely end up strolling into the office late regardless though because knowing you, you can’t start your day until you’re squirting all over daddy. But this is Nanami, he is nothing if not efficient so your early morning romp is definitely in the shower where he can clean you up after in order to get you out of the door sooner, your breakfast is already packed to-go. 

WFH!Nanami love language is acts of service. You never stress about what to do for lunch either because there’s always a Michelin star worthy bento waiting for you next to your keys before you leave for the day. 

In fact, what Nanami doesn’t know is that his bento is famous not only around your office, as your envious coworkers gather round to see what your perfect husband has prepared for you today, but also on TikTok. The ‘KentosBentos’ TikTok account you made has over 350K followers who not only watch for the mouth watering yet nutritious bentos but to also hear you gush over the cute little notes your hubby leaves for you. 

Your top video has over 2.5 million likes and thousands of swooning women in the comments when WFH!Nanami made you an extra special lobster bento for your birthday and left you the note: ‘In all the world there is no love for me if I don’t have yours. Happy Birthday to my lovely wife, whose smile shines bigger and all the more brighter than the sun, moon and stars.’ 

Continuing with acts of service WFH!Nanami always has an equally delicious dinner ready for you when you get home. On days you work overtime and arrive home late, there's always a warm bubble bath waiting for you first. You love to rest with your back laid against Nanami’s utterly ripped torso in the tub while his thick arms envelope you. Relaxing into the safety of WFH!Nanami’s hold, your doting hubby kisses your temple and gives your keyboard fatigued hands a delicate massage. Nanami is nothing but a patient yet active listener while you recount your stressful day at work.

On days when you both get the opportunity to work from home you email WFH!Nanami a meeting invite to block off his calendar for 30 min during lunch. The invite is always titled ‘Ken and Barbie’s Lunch Meeting’. The location? ‘Pound Town’ The time? Noon, sharp!

Of course WFH!Nanami never actually schedules it on his work calendar lest his boss sees the meeting. (Gojo would never let him hear the end of it). As a result, since he never actually has the time officially blocked off, on some rare occasions he does actually get booked for a real lunch meeting at Noon that he cannot reschedule. 

Meeting or no meeting though you are determined to keep your lunchtime dick appointment with WFH!Nanami. A noon dicking is a noon dicking and it’s a non-negotiable for you as you don’t often get to stay home from work! 

WFH!Nanami is focused and poised during his camera-on meetings with his team. Therefore he doesn’t hear you open his office door. Nor does he see you as you drop to the floor with feline grace, hips swaying seductively as you crawl right under his desk. In fact, Nanami does not notice you at all until your soft hands grip his thick powerful thighs and you’re sliding your body up between his legs. Never faltering on-camera, WFH!Nanami’s stiffened jaw and tensed shoulders are the only tell-signs of you palming his rapidly hardening cock under the desk.

WFH!Nanami who tests the absolute limits of the stress ball he keeps handy (usually for tough negotiations) when he feels you press your hot mouth on the fabric covering his dick. You know your stoic husband won't ever outwardly falter when on the clock but you know inside he is a mess. That much is clear to you by the girth bulge straining against his tan fitted slacks.  

WFH!Nanami who knows you are upset about him working through your ‘lunch meeting’, but wishes you wouldn’t torture him like this while he’s on the clock. He can tell you are enjoying yourself though as your sinful little tongue drags tiny kitten licks over the hard bulge in his pants. Soon though you are pawing at his zipper and pulling his girthy cock free through the hole, not even bothering to undo his belt. Taking him fully into your mouth, WFH!Nanami bites his inner cheek, when his boss Gojo makes a comment on how he looks more tense than usual when he should be thrilled after closing the biggest deal of the year. 

WFH!Nanami who takes a long moment to deeply clear his throat before he calmly relays to Gojo that he is very pleased with the win but already thinking of the next big acquisition for their company. Yet Nanami’s voice hitches ever so slightly when your pink stiletto nails dig into his muscular thighs. It fools the rest of the team but Gojo merely raises a brow before cheerily moving on to the next subject. 

WFH!Nanami spares a look downward at you once the work conversation has shifted to see you gazing up at his mouth full of his cock. You wear an angelic look as if he can’t tell the hand that left his thigh and is now slotted between your own isn’t furiously rubbing at your clit. He knows you are pleased at finally drawing a reaction, even a small one, from him while on the clock.

WFH!Nanami whose eyes twitch when he’s closing the call he sees his boss Gojo’s knowing smile and hears the start of the question, “So Nanamin… is Y/N, working from home to–”

WFH!Nanami doesn’t stay to hear the end of the question, quickly exiting the call and ignoring the message pings full of raunchy emojis he receives from Gojo. 

WFH!Nanamiwho is still seated grabs you by your hair and ruthlessly face fucks you as soon as his camera turns off. He forces you swallow all eight and a half inches of him as you gag and slobber around his girth. Your jaw begins to ache but your eyes still roll back into your head with pleasure and you go limp in his grasp. You are willingly allowing your loving husband to turn your throat into his personal cocksleeve as you rub your cunt up against his leg, so close to cumming from the chafing of his slacks against your cunt.

Frustrated and annoyed it isn’t long before WFH!Nanami cums himself. His leg you are riding jerks up into you giving you the extra push you need as you moan around his cock and cream on his leg leaving a wet spot. WFH!Nanami has you choking down his thick seed. His cum and your drool dribble down the sides of your face when he finally slides out of the warm cavern of your throat cunny, leaving you panting as you try to catch your breath.

WFH!Nanami wordlessly wipes your face with the tissues he keeps on his desk and promptly ushers you out of this office, locking the door behind you. You aren’t upset though as you know what's in store for you once his work day is over. The locked door is more to keep him IN, than keep you OUT. Nanami would have to take the rest of the day off if he were to properly discipline you now. You being forced to wait and wonder how long he would take to finish his work was part of the punishment anyway.

You know WFH!Nanami is ready to administer your punishment once he calls you out by your FULL government name “Y/N Nanami!” Tonight is different and there is no dinner nor warm bath for you. Just a tired Nanami, weary of his bosses teasing and ready to take out all his frustrations on his wife’s naughty little cunt. 

Your cunt in question nearly starts voguing in anticipation as heat pools between your legs once you are called into the bedroom. You already know what time it is once you see WFH!Nanami loosen his tie and take off his belt slowly while sternly saying your name once more.

The belt and tie? 

Oh, the belt is used to tie your arms behind you and the tie is now a gag, for having such a filthy cock-loving little mouth he will tell you. It’s not long after that until you are face down, ass up getting pounded into the mattress as WFH!Nanami nearly cracks the headboard with the force he is using to thrust into you. Your cries of “K-Kento!” are muffled into the makeshift gag when a firm slap causes your ass to ripple more aggressively against his pelvis. 

Nanami growls deeply into your ear.

“Welcome to Pound Town, Barbie.”

Any muffled cries for mercy fall on deaf ears as WFH!Nanami is too focused on his retribution for your earlier antics as he continues to wreck your pussy from behind. His heavy balls smack against your clit and your sloppy cunt echos vulgar squelches that bounce off your bedroom walls and erotically ring in your ears. The hand pressing your head further into the pillow beneath you is the same hand Nanami wears his wedding band on. It glimmers brightly even in the dimly lit room.

WFH!Nanami loves seeing his ring and remembering his vows in the moment. 💖

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or graphics, do not translate.

a/n: Nanami brainrot overload (i wfh! lord god when is it my turn, bring me a nanami i BEG) and day 18 without adhd meds lol, finally finished something though. Nerd!Geto and The Nursery ft. Toji is soon I promise!

reblog to get your on WFH!Nanami but comments and likes are always appreciated!

[hayatoseyepatch]

Description: Three words, eight letters, a phrase that is felt more than it is spoken. This is my take on how some of the Wind Breaker characters say "I love you" for the first time. Characters: Hajime Umemiya, Tasuku Tsubakino, Haruka Sakura, & Hayato Suo. Word Count: 2.6k Not proofread, oops. Contains: Fem!Reader x Multiple Charcters (separate). Fluff. Some slight hurt/comfort if you squint.

Author's Note: Fluff? Something other than smut? From me? Wow. We love character development. But this has been on my mind for AGES so I finally am getting it out. I haven't been feeling the greatest either so please enjoy some very self-indulgent fluff. (¯³¯)♡

You and Umemiya had been together for a while. You both adored each other, tender kisses and lingering touches were commonplace in your relationship. You had met Kotoha, and the others at the group home and have been attached to his side for almost a year. He wasn’t sure what was holding him back from saying those three little words. Perhaps it was his past, he had lost those who he had nearest and dearest to his heart. Their end unraveled right before his very eyes. Umemiya had so much love to give, and so many people he loved to give it to.

But often, he found it next to impossible to let the words slip past his lips. Instead, he showed his love in different ways. Bringing Kotoha patrons and supplying her with crops from his garden for her restaurant. A warming smile and a promise that Bofurin’s big brother would keep his found family safe. Always the first to offer a listening ear or a shoulder when needed. But never those words. Three short words, one syllable each. He knew he could say them but something deep down was stopping him. An irrational fear that if he had, the one he said it to would go too.

That was before he met you. Umemiya hid his darkness well. A well-placed smile and a childish affect cleared the thought anyone could ever have that the feelings he buried so deep even could exist within him. One you found easily. The light you had brought into his world shone brighter than any darkness that could ever threaten to shroud him. The warmth that settled in his chest when you looked his way. His laughter more genuine since you had come into his life. He knew from the moment he had met you, the moment he had first lost himself in your eyes, that they were the eyes he wanted to get lost in every day for the rest of his life. So why, even after all this time could he not say he loved you?

You had always joked that you had a grey thumb, unable to grow anything and that you were fortunate enough to have his abilities for gardening. One of the things he loved most about you was the amount of effort you put into his interests. He was coming up to the rooftop, it was late summer and he was excited to see what was ready to harvest. He was surprised to hear your voice, looking around the corner he saw you watering the plants. Just as he had shown you how to. “You're looking beautiful today, growing nice and big and strong.” You sighed, feeling ridiculous, shaking your head. You jumped, nearly out of your skin hearing Umemiya’s giggles. “Sunflower what are you doing?” He said between peals of laughter

“I read online that talking to the plants could help them grow, I don’t know how well it’ll work.” You sigh shaking your head feeling a little silly. However, Umemiya’s heart was soaring, you had taken it upon yourself not only to express interest in something important to him but to go out of your way to care for it even when out of his presence. His eyes softened, cupping your cheek he leaned down to slot his lips against yours. The embrace was gentle, lips molding together as if they were only made to be with the other. He parted from you after a moment, breaths fanning against your lips as he spoke. “I love you, my sunflower.” He smiled against your mouth as he kissed you once more, knowing no matter what came next he would be by your side until he drew his last breath.

Tsubaki had only felt comfortable in his own skin in recent years. Having spent so long conflicted with himself regarding his appearance. He was so fortunate that for those who didn’t support his choice in his appearance, he had so many who were right there by his side, rooting him on. But it wasn’t always like that. For longer than Tsubaki cares to remember he was all alone. Forced to walk his path in constant fear of ridicule. He was teaching himself to fight to protect himself from those who would try and hurt him on the sole premise of being true to himself. Those days felt like a lifetime ago. Because now he had Bofurin, because now he had you.

Tsubaki couldn’t forget the first time you had both met even if he tried. He was just starting to dress more feminine, his hair an awkward shoulder length. Still learning how to apply makeup. There were a few boys from his grade who were taunting him, calling him names, and throwing things in his direction. Normally he would have stood his ground, beating them to a pulp for what they were doing. But Tsubaki was tired, tired of having to defend himself, tired of having to be so strong just to live as he chose to. How he felt most beautiful. He wasn’t that strong by choice, he was strong because he had to be. Because Tsubaki had to be stronger than their ignorance. Tears welled up in his vision at their harsh words, about to get up and defend himself once more.

Before he could get to his feet, however, he heard a voice call out, capturing the attention of his assailants. Stood there was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, delicate features enhanced by the soft cosmetics that had adorned your face. He watched with wide-eyed fascination as you ran up, the closed fist of your manicured hand coming into contact with their leader’s jaw, sending him to the ground upon impact. Tsubaki couldn’t move, he watched, frozen as you gracefully fought the group that had been trying to bring him harm. Tsubaki was strong, and more than capable of handling them on his own, but in that moment he learned that he didn’t have to. He didn’t have to fight his battles alone anymore, because now he had you.

He remembered stumbling over his own name when you had asked for it, cheeks a dark shade of red when you smiled at him. He remembered the way your hand had felt in his grasp for the first time as you dragged him back to your house to get cleaned up. Humming as you wiped the dirt from his cheeks, in a very similar manner as you were doing right now. He lay in your bed, your thighs straddling his waist as you hummed, swiping the brush along his cheek, applying the peachy blush you said paired so well with his complexion. You paused in your humming meeting his eyes that gazed up into yours with adoration, giggling softly. “Welcome back, that was some daze you were in. What’s on your mind gorgeous?”

Tsubaki’s cheeks flushed deeper than the powder that painted his skin. Tucking your hair behind your ear, you sent him a smile, soft and full of tenderness. Tsubaki wasn’t sure he believed in love at first sight, but he knew from the moment he met you that he loved you, and over time that love had only grown. Reaching up a hand, thumb swiping your cheek as he returned your loving gaze. “Just thinking about how much I love you, that’s all beautiful.”

Haruka wasn’t familiar with love. Often times he found it nearly impossible to express his feelings. Before coming here, even something as simple as kindness was a foreign concept to him. Being so often judged upon first glance he never got the opportunity to even try to build relationships. So after a while he had given up trying, That was before he came here. Before he was welcomed in with open arms. Before he found the only place he felt like he truly belonged. But you. You had opened up his world to so much more. You showed him what love could feel like, An emotion he never thought he could ever feel let alone have bestowed upon him.

You were much more open with your love, taking care of him when he got sick after a fight, making sure he was eating and taking care of himself. You had teased him relentlessly when you first met. Adoring the deep flush in his cheeks and the reactions you could pull so easily from him. Eventually, that teasing morphed into affection, which blossomed into love. You still had a habit of teasing him, but it was never ill-mannered always coupled with your beautiful laughter. And if he got to hear that beautiful sound bubbling past your lips, he would deal with the heat that graced his cheeks and the pounding in his chest.

You both had been together for quite some time, well past the point of the outbursts you had first been met with when openly showing your affection. Long past the point where he would feel the urge to run for the hills the second you called him one of the plethora of pet names you had bestowed upon him. But he still struggled to verbalize his feelings for you. He knew you were well aware of his feelings toward you. What he couldn’t express through words he showed through his actions. He was eternally grateful to your seemingly unending patience with him. Being well aware of his past you knew he would say it when he was ready. It wasn’t as if he had never said it before, but those times were when you were fast asleep next to him. His fingers carded through your hair as he gazed upon your relaxed features, whispering those three words in the silence of night. But as you lay here in his arms, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours he knew that he needed you to hear how he felt. Not just feel it. Leaning down he brushes his lips against your own, lips slotting together like two puzzle pieces, perfectly fit to one another.

His eyes are soft with fondness as you pull away from the kiss, head tilting to lean into the touch of your hand. His eyes locked with yours, lidded with adoration. His lips melting against yours, arms encircling your waist. He hums thoughtfully against your lips. His heart felt warm, pulling away he looked into your eyes, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You know, I sit and I think to myself sometimes ‘god I can never love you more than I do right now’ and you consistently test that theory by making me fall more in love with you every day.” His heart raced in his chest, never the best at expressing his emotions, but in this moment Sakura needed to tell you how he felt. Never one to back down, despite being able to hear his heart racing in his ears as he continued to speak.  “Your smile still makes my heart pound, your laugh still makes my head feel fuzzy, and your kisses still make me feel like I’m floating. I love you so much.”

He gives you a soft smile pulling you close once more to kiss your lips, hand now coming to rest at the back of your neck to keep you in place as his lips meld with yours once more. Before moving here Sakura could confidently say that he had never felt at home anywhere. He was alone, perfectly fine never planting roots, he had believed it would always be that way. What he didn’t realize was that home was more than where you returned to at the end of the day. It would be something he found in you. Because his home was right here, in your arms. His home was you.

Suo hummed to himself, walking through the isles of the florist, perusing the flowers. He had made it a habit from your first date to always have fresh flowers for you, showcasing their beauty that in his eyes was rivaled only by your own. When he had presented you with the first bouquet, you had scrunched up your nose reporting to not understand the purpose of a gift that would eventually die. From that moment he decided he would always have fresh flowers to decorate your space. Showing you that their beauty may be temporary but the flora could hold deeper meaning.

He was fascinated by the symbolism of flowers. But he very specifically took delicate care in every single flower that was showcased in a bouquet he arranged for you. For a man like Suo, someone who never showed a crack in his armor, never showing his true feelings often relied on subtle ways to show his love. The first flower he had selected for the bouquet were violets, their heart-shaped petals reflecting their meaning of everlasting love and devotion. Historically a gift of violets was a declaration to always be true. These flowers were common amongst the arrangements he curated with their placement, a promise to offer you the same. The next flower to join the arrangement followed a similar sentiment. Representing strength and love was the gladiolus. It was once believed that the beauty of the gladiolus could pierce another’s heart with love, the same could be said for the way you had done to him. Their purple hue paired nicely with the violets, the color symbolizing the beauty in the love you shared. The flowers to follow would showcase similar significance. Baby’s breath for undying love, calla lilies for beauty, and pink camellias for longing.

Suo was always deliberate in each flower he chose for you, choosing to convey his emotion through the meaning behind each flower he placed delicately in the arrangement. Smiling to himself, satisfied with the selection he had chosen. Sitting at his table as he placed them in their wrapping, being sure to pluck one from the bunch, placing it in a vase so when it began to wilt he would know it was time to gift you a new arrangement. Once he was satisfied, he set off to your apartment, knocking on the door. His signature smile graced his handsome features as he took you in. “Hello there beautiful, I have something for you.”

You smiled at Suo, taking the flowers from his grasp, and replacing the old arrangement with his assistance. You were very aware of Suo’s knowledge of flora, he would often tell you the meanings they held while out together. So much so that you began to look into it yourself. Taking what you knew of the flowers now to assess the arrangement. Eyes soft as you turned to your boyfriend. Hand curling around the back of his neck to pull him down to your level, lips brushing against his. The both of you melted into the tender kiss, your other hand coming to cup his cheek as his found purchase on your waist. Pulling away, you pressed your forehead against his looking into the rich auburn of his visible eye. “I love you too, Haya.” Your words were met with his gentle laughter. Taking one of your hands in his own, his lips brushing against your knuckles. “I love you, more than words could ever express, my sweet baby.”

Suo smiled looking down at you, knowing each flower he had plucked from your bouquets had been dried and coated. Keeping a memento of how despite your initial feelings on the gift, even flowers that have died could still be enjoyed. Those flowers were placed in a special place, kept safe. One day he planned to have the dried flowers arranged into their own bouquet. One he would present you alongside a ring, a promise to love you until the very last one died, knowing these flowers never would.

Dividers by saradika-graphics. Writing & character banners by me. If you enjoyed it, consider taking a look at my masterlist: here.

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about Megumi Fushiguro only showing his vulnerable side around you.

And it's not like he doesn't trust his friends. It just happens that he doesn't feel safe showing that side of him near them. He thinks that it makes him seem weak. And he definitely doesn't want to look weak.

He didn't even use to show his sensitive side around you at first. He never initiated cuddles, kisses or even hugs. Maybe, if you were lucky, he'd wake up feeling brave and would hold your hand. Once in a blue moon.

But bear with him! It's his first relationship, so he has zero clue about what to do in this whole dating thing. He needed a patient partner, and, luckily, you were exactly that: never forced him to do anything he didn't want to do, never initiated anything without his consent first and never complained about his lack of experience. You were perfect for him.

One day, he was on his way to Jujutsu High after a difficult mission. His whole body was aching from head to toe, his head was hurting and he had some really bad cuts that were gonna scar for sure. The fight with a special curse had taken a toll on his body, even if he wasn't alone during it. And, honestly, even though he was literally limping, he couldn't think about anything else other than you.

His favorite part of the mission was the aftermath, not only because it meant that the problem he was choosen to solve was over, but because when he came to the dorms he knew you would be there, waiting for him with your arms between your thighs and a gentle smile. The thought of you always made him smile like a lovesick fool. Perhaps he was, indeed, a good old fashioned lover boy. Maybe he had, in fact, become one of the hopeless romantics he used to despise, because, on his way back to Jujutsu High, despite feeling like he was literally being eaten from the inside out because of how much pain he was enduring, he still found the strenght to squat and pick a pretty flower he saw on a bush. He handled it with so much care, his eyes literally sparkling with love when he looked at it. It was so beautiful. It reminded him of you. He imagined your reaction when he gave you the flower. Would you smile and smell it, looking for a vase to put it on your desk so everyone could see? Or would you laugh at him in an affectionate way and hug it close to you, smiling at how smitten he was for you? And you would be right (as you always were), because he was, indeed, smitten. He would burn down the entire world if you asked him to. He would do anything just to make sure that you were always smiling. He would rather be skinned alive than make you cry. You were his light, the one who guided him through darkness. He couldn't even remember how his life was before he met you, and he honestly didn't want to remember. You made everything so easier, his life had so much color with you in it and the sky seemed brighter. It looked like the birds were singing a soft melody made exclusively for you both, and everything was sunshine and rainbows. Life had never seemed so bright.

"Megumi? Did you even hear what we just asked you?"

"We're losing him. I bet he's thinking about his girlfriend again."

"Ugh, he's such a loser when it comes to her. It's so sweet it makes me sick."

"What happened to bros before hoes, Fushiguro?"

"I don't know what you idiots are on about" Megumi sighed after snapping out of his trace "And I was not thinking about my girlfriend." It's not like he's embarassed of you, but he didn't feel like being mocked by Nobara and Itadori just because he thinked about you once in a while. Maybe not only once in a while. Maybe he did think about you a lot. More than he'd ever admit.

"Suuuree. And that flower is for who? I bet it's not for me or Nobara." Itadori pointed to the plant on his hands

"Shut up." Fushiguro blushed, placing the pink flower (very carefully, may I add) on his pocket. Yuji and Nobara smirked at eachother, enjoying the abashed state their friend was at.

"As we were saying, we wanted to know if you're going with us to Shoko's. She probably has something to help us with our cuts. And some of these are nasty! I really hope they don't scar, because there's a really big one on my face. That will make my modeling job harder, I'm sure. But my pretty face will make up for it"

"I think the scar will be the least of your problems..." Itadori murmured

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing!" He sweatdropped and quickly changed the topic "Anyway, are you coming with us, Fushiguro?"

The black haired boy sighed.

"I don't think so. My cuts are not that bad. I just need a little rest. If they hurt, I'll go seek help."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, you guys can go without me"

"Okay then. Bye Fushiguro!"

"I still want to know what you said earlier."

"I said nothing, what do you mean?"

Hearing his friends playful chatter disappear in the distance, Megumi's thoughts drifted to you again. He was honestly so tired that he could only think about cuddling with you or laying on your lap.

He must have been really entretained by his thoughts, cause he didn't even notice he had gotten to your dorm before he literally knocked on the door.

"I'm coming!" He heard your sweet voice saying.

"Megumi! You're finally back! I missed you!"

No feeling could ever surpass the feeling of you holding him, your arms wrapped around his torso in a strong hug that made him weak. He hugged you back as quickly as possible and nuzzled his head on the crook of your neck, closing his eyes and ihnaling your scent that drove him half-insane. It was like a drug. You were like his drug.

"I missed you too" reaching for his pocket, he grabbed the flower and gave it to you, as if he was trying to show you that, even during his missions, he still thought about you constantly. "Here"

"No way. Gumi, you shouldn't have..." you said, taking the flower from his hands and sniffing it, a content smile on your face.

"But I wanted to." He returned your smile, grabbing the flower from your hands and putting it behind your ear, removing a strand of stray hair from your face in the process.

"Even though I'm absolutely loving this moment" you said, cupping his face "You stink. Please go take a shower."

Crap! He had forgotten to shower! Now you were going to think he was stinky! Ugh, how could he be so irresponsable?

He quickly grabbed a towel and some spare clothes he had in your dorm (he went there a lot. It was practically his second home or something like that. Actually, his home is wherever you are. So, it happened that your dorm felt like home, too) and took the fastest shower he had ever taken in his life. He just wanted to go back to your arms in less time as possible. He wanted to merge with you, wanted you to hold him so close that you became one.

"I'm finished" he said, going to your room. He had to put some bandage in his larger bruises, so he was still shirtless. That being said, you could literally see how big they were.

"Oh dear God! Megumi, did you go to Shoko's? These injuries look bad!"

"They're not as bad as they look" he said, laying beside you and staring at your eyes. He didn't know what came over him, but the next words he said made even him surprised "But I bet they'd get better if you cuddled with me"

It was the first time he was initiating something. You'd be a fool to let the opportunity go.

"Well, if you say so" you smirked, looking a him with a glint of playfullness. "I really hope I can help you with that. Not sure if I'm capable tho. Don't know if my cuddles are good enough"

"Don't act ridiculous, of course they are"

"Let's start with your treatment, then." You laughed. And oh, how he loved the sound of your laugh. He loved it even more because he was the cause of it.

Carefully, you slipped your arms around him, hugging him closer to you. Your legs linked together, and he buried his face on your boobs (he didn't even have any indecent thoughts behind that action. It just felt comfortable). And, just when he thought it couldn't get better, your hands found their way to his hair. You gently unraveled all the knots, one by one, while massaging his scalp. He let out a peaceful sigh and began moving his hands up and down your back, as if massaging you, and drawing random things in your exposed skin with his fingers, like little hearts or silly smiling faces. Everything was perfect at that moment. He felt safe with you, something he didn't feel with most people. He felt completely at ease. Nothing and no one could ever ruin that moment for him.

*Click*

Until something did. Or even better: some people did.

"KUGISAKI! I TOLD YOU TO TURN THE VOLUME OF THE CAMERA DOWN"

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT I DON'T KNOW HOW YOUR STONE AGE PHONE WORKS. MY GRANDPA HAS A BETTER PHONE THAN YOURS"

"What. Are you guys. Doing here." It came out more like a comand than a question. Megumi felt frustrated that they had interrupted your alone time, and, honestly, even though he loved his friends, he just wanted them to go away. When they barged him uninvited, you had stopped playing with his hair, and he just wanted to feel your hands on his head again.

"Well, Gojo-Sensei asked us to come check if you really didn't need Shoko's treatment. But it looks like you have everything under control. We'll be going now. Just pretend we were never here..." Nobara said, trying to run away as quickly as possible before Megumi got even angrier.

"Hey! Isn't that the flower he grabbed on our way back? I knew it was for her! Look how cute, she even put it on her desk!" Itadori clearly didn't get what Nobara was trying to do.

"You idiot! We need to go fast, or else he'll get mad! Let's show the photo to Gojo-Sensei! I bet he'll find it funny. We can also use it as future blackmail, but we need to go before he gets us." The brunette girl whispered, but it was loud enough for the whole building to hear

"I can hear you, you know?"

"You're right! Let's go!" Megumi was promptly ignored.

In a normal occasion, Fushiguro would probably go after them, trying to get them to delete the picture. But he was just so tired that he didn't even have the strenght to.

"Ugh, I hate them"

"No you don't" You smiled, booping his nose and resuming your hands' work on his hair "you just need sleep. You're clearly tired, and the mission made you hurt. You deserve to rest. I'll be here when you wake up"

"Thank you." Should he say it? Oh, screw it. You needed to know. "I love you"

"I love you too, Gumi"

Honestly, he couldn't be happier right now. And so, with the feeling of your skin close to his and your hands on his hair, Megumi Fushiguro drifted off to a peaceful slumber, with the sweetest dreams he ever had. Of course they were sweet. They were only about you, afterall.

You were his everything. He loved you. And you loved him back. That was something he would forever be proud of.

~ A/N: I need sleep.

Masterlist

[dancingwithreality]

romeo and juliet t.w.

gif not mine!

pairing: toto wolff x verstappen!sister

word count: 3.1k

summary: red bulls golden girl has been in a long term secret relationship with the team principal of mercedes, and it gets harder to keep the secret.

warnings: implied sexual content, jos verstappen 🤢, fluff, light steam but no smut

a/n: yes she’s a little child prodigy, but it works better for the plot. if this gets love 'n y'all really want more i'll do a second part maybe :)

please don’t take my work! enjoy and interact :)

JOS VERSTAPPEN was not a nice man, and an even worse father. He was demanding and mean, pushing his driving legacy onto his children. Well, onto Max. When his first child was a girl Jos was not happy. He didn’t think a girl could uphold such a prestige, so he never tried hard. You gave your all to impress your father but it was never enough for him. Then a few years later, he got Max, and when Max was of age he immediately started karting. You were quickly pushed to the back of his mind.

Through the years, even though you did better than Max, he still never cared about you as much as he did Max. Which is definitely saying something. You made your career as the youngest female driver to ever get second in the F2 Championship at 16 years old. At the last race, when you solidified your position as second in the WDC, you will always remember how your 12 year old baby brother went running up to you, pride swelling in his eyes.

He kept chanting your praises and hugged you tightly around your waist. Tears were brought to your eyes and you hugged him back. You took Max up to the podium with you and celebrated with the whole world watching. Except, Jos. His arms were crossed as he barely spared you a glance. That was the last time your heart broke because of him. You swore to yourself, you’d be there for Max how your father never was, and you’d stop relying on him to validate you.

Your success put you on the radar for many teams. The one you went with, was Red Bull. You joined their academy and were their first female reserve. There you met Daniel and became quick friends. Years later, when Max joined Toro Rosso you’d been driving for Red Bull for years already. You were the one that pushed for Max to be your reserve the following year, and everything fell into place.

Now you were 28. You had four consecutive vice championships under your wing and were driving alongside your two-consecutive championship winning brother. Everyone called you the ‘Wonder Twins’ and your family legacy had never burned brighter.

You were having a relaxing dinner with your brother and best friend, reminiscing on your life and how lucky you were. While Daniel and Max took over most of the conversation and were laughing the entire time, you memorized this night to remember it forever. Unbeknownst to Max, your boyfriend of four years was sitting further back in the restaurant having his own night. Glances were being passed back and forth between you to as your relationship was still a secret.

•••

It was 2018, after the Singapore race. The whole grid was out at some club and even some principals and team members joined you.

You and Danny were having the best time dancing and drinking, when you felt someone’s eyes on you. Finding the source gave you a shock and surprise to see Toto staring at you. When your eyes met, he sent a wink your way that made you blush and look back at Daniel. Hurriedly you whispered to him what had happened and the Aussie was at a loss for words. He knew of your little crush on the Austrian often teased you about it, but he never thought the crush would be reciprocated. Nonetheless he matched your excitement and decided you would do something about it.

Danny fluffed up your hair, and your ego, while encouraging you to go talk to him. ‘Open, lemme see your teeth,’ Daniel made a face at you telling you to do the same. You did and he confirmed that nothing was there. ‘Right, go at ‘em!’ He started to push you towards the bar.

‘What am i supposed to say!’ You started panicking while trying to look calm.

‘Turn up that Dutch charm or something! You’ve got this,’ Daniel winked and sent you on your way with a gentle pat on the back.

You were skeptical that Toto would even follow you to the bar. But he did. And somewhere in the night, small talk and glances turned into light touches and smiles. Which turned to laughs and close proximity, which led you going back to the hotel room with him for more privacy and a nightcap. The night was one to really remember as it started what you could only describe as the best thing to happen to you. The morning after wasn’t a walk of shame, no, your held was high and you were filled with joy and you stumbled all the way back to your room, eager to tell Danny all the details.

•••

You were brought back to reality as Daniel kicked you under the table and cleared his throat. Your face burned from how long you kept eye contact from across the room, while your brother sitting a foot away. ‘Sorry, I spaced out,’ you laughed and took a sip of your wine.

'You spend too much of your time with us,' Max sighed and looked at Daniel for his agreement.

‘Max,’ you chuckled, ‘You guys are my best friends, and you’re also my brother, why wouldn’t I spend time with you?’ You asked.

‘I’m just saying, you’re with us all the time. And when you’re not you’re always in your room or by yourself,’ Max stated like it was fact. Daniel let out a quick laugh at the idea of you always being ‘alone’ when he knew where you really were.

This time you kicked him, ‘And what’s wrong with that?’

‘Darling we can’t be your only friends,’ Daniel teased. You shot him a deadpanned look and pretended to laugh.

‘I’m serious!’ Max looked almost offended that you and Daniel weren’t taking it as seriously as he was. Both of you immediately turned to him and looked concerned. ‘Daniel has Heidi, I have Kelly, you’re not getting any younger and you don’t have anyone.’

Your mouth was agape, did he just call you old? Daniel couldn’t hold his laughter in anymore and in classic honey badger style, he bursted out and was laughing so hard he couldn’t breath.

‘Max, I can assure you, you don’t have to worry about me.’ You tried to calm this conversation and put it to an end.

Much to your chagrin it didn’t really end. Max went on for a little while longer and you couldn’t have wished to not be there any more. When he finally got up to go to the bathroom, you slumped down in your chair.

Daniel was trying to get his breath back and was drinking his water. 'What was that? Max never cared about my love life!' You pinched your nose bridge and put your head down on the table.

'Why don't you just tell him? It's been four years, I don't think its too fresh anymore.'

'Oh yeah like it's that easy, 'Oh hey Max! I've been dating the Team Principal of Mercedes for years now, i just never told you!' You pretended to smile and used the fakest high pitched voice you had.

'You sarcastic little girl, it's not that big a deal. If you love each other, what's the big deal?'

'Okay don't call me a little girl you're like a few years older than me. Ugh, I miss the days when we had a PR relationship for publicity. No one asked me about my love life back then,' You groaned and took an even larger sip of your wine, the cup almost empty now.

'Just eat your food and stop sulking. You're secretly dating tall, dark, handsome, and hunky, like your life is so hard. Poor Romeo and Juliet.’ Daniel cut a piece off his steak and went back to eating. 'You're leading the championship and getting dicked down-‘

'Daniel!'

•••

You were all at Silverstone now. You just finished qualifying and the feelings were mixed. Max had unfortunately not done as well, but 6th wasn’t horrible. He was sure to make it up.

You were on your way back to your hotel when you got a message from Toto. Unfortunately for him, Lewis and George struggled a little more than they’d prefer. Toto had asked the front desk for an extra key to his room and had given it you prior. He wanted a bit of comfort tonight. He already let out his anger in the garage earlier, he would need another headset for tomorrow, and he wanted you to spend the night. you told him you’d be right over as soon as you were ready.

So a shower and an outfit change later, you were running over to his room and sliding the room key in as quick as you could. You always had to make sure no one saw when either of you went to the others room, so you’d gotten fairly good at it over the years.

As soon as you closed and locked the door, behind you came a pair of arms what wrapped themselves quickly around your waist. ‘Oh, meine liebe,’ the arms sighed in the crook of your neck.

‘Hello my darling,’ you leaned backwards onto the strong chest of your boyfriend and rested one hand around his neck, where his head was pressing kisses on yours. ‘How are you?’

He spun you around in his arms so he could rest his forehead on top your head. ‘Qualifying was piss poor, it seems we can’t get out of 7th and 8th.’

‘If it makes you feel any better, Alonso hasn’t been doing too well these last races. If Lewis manages to move even a few places the gap will tightens between them.’ You rubbed your hands up and down his back, trying yo offer some comforting words.

‘How can you be so impartial?’ He pressed a long kiss to your lips. ‘We’re from rival teams, shouldn’t you pray for our downfall?’ he kissed you again.

This time when he started to pull away you went to your tippy toes chasing after him, ‘We can both succeed without hurting the other.’ One of your hands was behind his neck, the other in his hair. ‘Well, so long as I’m winning.’ Each time he kissed you grew more passionate and desperate than the last. Neither of you had even realized that you’d walked backwards onto the bed until Toto’s legs hit the frame and you both fell.

After his back hit the mattress and you braces yourself on his chest you both erupted into laughter. You laid with your head and arms in his chest as he put one behind his head so he could see you properly. ‘It’s only a good race if you win darling,’ the look in his eyes was so intense you could feel your whole body get hotter.

Your ears grew red as you two kept the silence and just, stared. ‘I love you,’ you softly said.

‘I love you,’ his thick accented voice soothed your heart and made it swell four times the size.

‘I wish we didn’t have to keep everything so secret,’ you uttered in a sort of defeated tone.

‘Meine liebe, I’d get all those silly little social media apps just to tell the whole world about us if you asked.’ He sat up, and pulled you with him into an upright position. You were straddling his lap, arms around his waist, as he pulled you in for a deep kiss, all in an effort to emphasize his love for you.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t like it when he held you like you weighed nothing. At eye level with him now, you couldn’t hold back anymore and jumped at his face. You kissed him so quickly and deeply you could’ve sworn he gasped. You nibbled on his lip and he let out a groan that you immediately swallowed, the sound only sending you into hyperdrive. Your intensity fueled him and you both became hungry for each other. Hands roaming and bodies moving in sync with each other.

His hands gripped your thighs and you tightened your legs around his waist. Once again, like you weight nothing, he took advantage of your tightening around him and lifted you up so he could further up the bed. Not once did you disconnect from each other as the night began to escalate.

He laid you down on your back and hovered over you, only a mere few inches from laying on you. Lips swollen and eyes dilated in lust you uttered ‘I love yours’ once more before connecting your lips for what feels like the tenth time that night.

All you were was a mess of sweaty skin, hushed breaths and some of the most explicit sounds that would make anyone blush. Nights like these, we’re you were able to care for each other and pretend the world outside didn’t exist were your favorite. Nights where you two could just be in love, not Mercedes Team Principal and Red Bulls Golden Girl.

Nights like these where you were Romeo and Juliet, fighting against your families and becoming your own.

•••

It was the last lap of Silverstone and adrenaline was running high. Your father had shown up to this race which already put you in a sour mood, you just wanted him to leave. You had Lando pushing behind you, granted the gap was 11.63 seconds but you wanted it to stay that way. Your only goal now was to get fastest lap to really tie it in. All these years later and you were still desperate for your father to see how good you were. See how you did it all by yourself.

You knew that behind Lando was Max, and even though you would always wish the best for the papaya boy, you knew that if max couldn’t overtake Jos would not be happy. His permanently disappoint disposition still hurt Max and it hurt you to see it.

Tension was running high as the race was coming to a close. There wasn’t a sound you could hear besides your own heart and you crossed the finish line. Lando followed behind and Max just .01 of a second behind him. It was close, and you were just so happy for both of them that you didn’t care if your brother didn’t overtake him.

When the final lap was over and you parked your car, the first thing you did was take off your helmet and look at the crowds. Amongst the cheering crowds, McLaren going wild and Red Bull screaming at the top of their lungs you watched as your brother pulled into the third spot and got out. Max made eye contact with your father and you could watch his heart break. Although he had preformed so well Jos was never pleased.

This ignited something in your veins. You watched him cross his arms and stand silently in the crow of cheering Red Bulls, the cameras showing off the orange army going insane in the bleachers. Yet somehow, the happiness couldn’t rub off on him.

You were tired of him.

You couldn’t take a single second of his attitude anymore.

So with all your courage and fire, you arm over to where Mercedes had piled off to the side. Your pushing through the crowds caught the cameras attention and all eyes were on you.

There in that second there was only one thought in your head. One idea: and you were going to follow through. You always do. You found Toto looking around shocked and confused as to why you were right in front of him. And in that second, you kissed him.

You brought both of your hands up to cup his face and you smashed your lips against his. As if the world melted around you his hands found your hips and the two of you were pushing so hard into each other, it was hard to tell where you ended and he started.

Just like the night before, you were one. You weren’t Mercedes v. Red Bull. You were boy and girl, hopelessly in love.

The crowd and gone silent.

You two pulled away ever so slightly, foreheads rested against the others as Toto supported your weight so you didn’t have to strain your feet too much to reach him. Despite just hard launching your relationship without any kind of talking about it before hand, the two lovers embraced each other.

‘The world knows now,’ he whispered in your ear.

‘Let them.’ You smiled as you hugged him tighter. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you.’ he whispered back.

Cheers and whoops erupted around you. Despite the initial shock of your relationship people were just happy. It was a good race with an even better surprise at the end, how could they complain?

The two of you pulled apart and smiled at each other, the world so unused to swing Toto so domestic and soft. You have him one more hot kiss before walking back to do the post race interview and award ceremony.

‘I guess she isn’t so alone, huh..’ Max looked star struck as Daniel laughed and patted him on the back.

You walked back and Jos was furious at your vulgar and inappropriate display. You’d never seen him so mad. It made you audibly laugh.

You put your Rub Bull cap on and walked right up to David Coulthard and smiled, waiting to start the questions.

‘Well that was something,’ He laughs in a slightly awkward manor. ‘Can I assume there’s something going on between you two?’

‘We’ve been dating for a while, I love him.’ You never smiled brighter.

‘A congratulations is in order then, for the race and for your love!’ He barked out in laughter as you thanked him and giggled.

Your eyes never left Toto, even as the anthems played and the trophies were handed out. Even as you sprayed each other with champagne and celebrated. Neither of you looked away. The smiles so evident on your faces and that in love glow never left. At that moment, neither of you cared about the repercussions that would follow. The PR mess and the scolding from Christian. It was just you two, in love.

The love you shared didn’t have to be bottled anymore. You two didn’t have to hide anymore, you could be together freely and honestly. That was all you wanted in life. To be with your love, in love, with no secrets or shame. You loved each other and that was all that mattered.

fin.

[utterlyotterlyx]

A Ballad of Storm and Shadow

Azriel x F!Reader

Part Four

Summary - Rhys had been content in taking the darkest secret of his family to the grave, but when the threat of Hybern increases, he has no choice but to send a message to another world and pray to the Mother that his call is answered.

Warnings - fluff, mentions of war, Feysand 🫶🏻, bit of a filler to build relationships but worth it, mentions of loss and grief

Part One Part Two Part Three

This is a crossover series, some aspects will differ from that in the books. Physical attributes are described in this fic, it is essential to the storyline of the character

The day after her return had proven to be Velaris' brightest day yet. The sun beat down upon the city, causing the citizens to close up the shops until the evening and descend upon the fields and streams to bask in the heavenly glow and gentle breezes that danced throughout the city.

"Do you think this is linked?" Feyre had asked, finger idly drawing circles in her fresh teacup as she peered up at the sky.

Rhys came up behind her, kissing the bare patch of skin on her shoulder he had made from pushing her robe to the side slightly, "Perhaps," he mumbled against her neck, "I did say that the city has missed her."

"I thought you were just being nice," she pondered, thoughts drifting to y/n soaring over the roaring mountains only hours before.

Chuckling deeply with a throat of morning, Rhys spoke, "No, darling. I was telling the truth," he motioned to the cloudless skies and beaming sun with a faint smile, "My sister is home. The lost princess of Velaris is home. And the universe knows it."

Craning her head to the side, Feyre placed a kiss atop Rhys' lips and sighed, "You know that she cannot stay, my love," she brushed her nose along the bridge of his own and settled into his arms.

"I know. But that doesn't mean we can't make the most out of it."

Sipping her tea, Feyre turned to her mate, twisting in his arms and draping her hand over his shoulder, "Did she settle in to the House of Wind alright?"

"Yes," he cast his mind back to the early hours of the morning when his sister had curtly locked him out of her mind for prodding her too hard, "I suppose she'd like to see the city today." Despite the need discuss the looming war, Rhys could spare one day to show his sister the city in which she was born.

A knowing glint sparkled in Feyre's eye and he craned his head back with inquisition, "Well," she began, sipping her tea and placing the teacup on the nearest table, "Azriel already asked her, and she agreed. Eagerly."

A singular bubble of annoyance grasped Rhys' heart, but it went as quickly as it appeared, and he found himself sighing, "I swear to the Mother, if Az starts to pine after my sister like he did with Mor, I will lose it."

Humming, Feyre draped her arms over her mates shoulders, looping them around his neck with eyes glittering in the sunlight, "You will do no such thing, husband," she told him with a smirk, "Considering they may both be dead in a week, shouldn't they know the magic of what we have for themselves?"

With his resolve crumbling, Rhys dipped his head to meet her lips, feeling the bond between them sing in reply, "Fine, but I'm going with them. She's my sister before his obsession." Noticing her lids hood into sultry, Rhys threw his head back and laughed, sweeping her off of her feet in one fell motion and carrying her over to the bed, "I'll find them after I'm done with you."

A gentle knock at the door pulled y/n's lost gaze away from the clear skies, she had awoken drowsy, probably due to the more than plush comforter she had bundled herself into the night before. It had taken y/n only minutes to drift away after Azriel had walked her to the door of her temporary chambers, leaving her alone with a soft smile and orbs gleaming with the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

The knock sounded again, dragging her from the memory, and y/n adjusted the ties of her robe as she padded toward the door, wings rustling at her back and fingers wrapping around the ornate handle of solid gold, pulling the door open in a single motion.

On the other side stood Mor, dresses hanging from her fingers and a grin slapped upon her red tinted lips, "Good morning, princess," she drawled, pushing past her cousin and smirking at the violet eyes rolling in their sockets, "It's a beautiful day," Mor approached the freshly made bed, sprawling the garments along the comforter and turning to face the raven haired princess still lingering in the doorway. "Close the door and come here."

Blinking, y/n asked, "Excuse me?" Upon meeting Mor's deadpan stare, y/n caved and closed the door with a gentle click, facing her cousin with her arms folded over her chest.

"I thought you might need some clothes considering your little date with Azriel today." Mor caught the blush that she was attempting to conceal and smiled to herself, mostly because the mask of the Fae Queen was dissolving right before her very eyes, and it was a refreshing thing to witness in a world full of deception.

Fumbling with her fingers behind her back, y/n took a dancing step forward with toes skimming against the carpet, "It's not a date," she muttered, eyes scanning over the dresses that Mor had brought with her now spread across the bedspread, "They're very pretty."

"A few of them are mine, some are from Feyre's closet but don't tell Rhys that I took them," Mor told y/n with a playful nudge. She reached across the bed, grasping a hanger in her rouge painted fingers, holding it up to her cousin's figure with a contemplative look, "I knew it wouldn't work but you had me questioning myself," she tossed the tight orange garment to the floor not long after.

The next hour was spent with Mor fussing, ordering y/n to try on various dresses and then pulling at the hair that fell effortlessly down to her waist, tugging it into intricate braids and updos with a frown. "This last one has to be it," stepping over the mounds of clothes thrown upon the floor to hand y/n the last dress in the collection.

Holding it up against the light, y/n smiled at the shimmer that blew straight through the sheer fabric, atop the sheer taupe sat a forest of silver vines and dainty leaves, enough that would keep certain parts of her body hidden but that would also give anyone who looked at her the gift of imagination.

It was beautiful.

With a sparkling glare, y/n disappeared behind the folding screen once more, sliding from the robe and into the dress that seemed to be made for her as it hugged every inch of her skin on its ascent up her body. Smoothing her hands over the skirt, y/n stepped from the screen and found Mor perched upon the edge of the bed, leg folded over the other with lips curled into a smirk. "Azriel is going struggle to even speak when he sees you in that."

"It's not a date," y/n insisted, fingers raking through her hair so that is fell in perfect waves down her spine. Mor appeared behind her with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.

"Shoes," Mor hummed, ticking her tongue and gliding her gaze downward to y/n's feet. Bending down, Mor unclasped her own shoes and kicked them along the floor, "They're my favourites. Don't ruin them."

Then she was gone, sauntering from the room and leaving the door open, a silent order for y/n to follow, which, after one last glance in the mirror, she did.

Y/N didn't really have the energy to inspect the House of Wind the night prior, already comforted by the lost familiarity of it, but as she wandered down the hall wrapped around the dimming scent of Mor, did she take a moment to scan the walls, namely of the portrait of the man who had her eyes and the same raven hair.

Her father.

It was astounding really how much she looked like him, the eyes, the nose, the hair and skin, but her her lips and high cheekbones would always belong to her mother, as well as the darkness that curled between them. She wished that she could remember her last interaction with him, or anything about him, but her mind struggled with the 500 years of distance.

"Mother above. Did Velaris throw up on you?" A gruff voice called from the end of the hall, y/n craned her head to the side to see a smirking Cassian approaching her, skin now clearing of the bruises she had littered upon it.

Cassian came to a stop beside her, "It was Mor actually," she spoke softly, eyes drifting back to the portrait to which Cassian's own followed, and his demeanour softened infinitely as he shuffled closer to her so that their shoulders grazed with each exhale, "What was he like?"

Struggling to find the words and not wanting to lie to her, Cassian simply muttered, "He was a prick," he caught her bewildered stare, "But he cared, in his own odd way."

"Would Rhys say the same?"

"Yes. So would Azriel." Cassian turned his body to her, a body so large that it eclipsed the sunlight flowing through the window at the end of the hall, "But he loved you. That I know without a doubt."

"How?"

Cassian barely heard her whisper as her eyes continued to scan the face of her father, measuring their similarities and differences, "Because if he didn't then he never would have sent you away, he would have kept you and abused your power until the day he died. But he sent you to your mother because he believed in what you could be, and he was right."

Despite the longing to return to her homeland over the last 500 years, y/n's father had been right to send her away, he had made her into a weapon that Erilea would be lost without, he had made her into a queen.

Moving her burning gaze from the face of her father, y/n smiled upward at Cassian, it was one full of meaning and kindness, "Thank you."

The Lord of Bloodshed shrugged, leaning into her and saying, "Anything for my sister," laughing at her pointed glare, "Don't fight it. It's who you are now."

Making his way down the hall after rounding her figure, he turned back, beckoning her with his hand and she fell into step with him as they paced down the stairs side by side, both salivating at the scents of sugar, honey, and fresh pastries that lined the kitchen counter which pulled them both in instantly. The pair of them took their time adding delicacies to their plates, some more neatly than others, and entered the intimate dining room bickering between themselves.

Cassian stuck his middle finger up at y/n before splitting away from her with a grin on his lips, and y/n scowled as she found a place at the table nestled between Mor and Nesta, and opposite Azriel who hadn't said a word since y/n entered the room with his brother at her side.

With a knowing look, Mor caught Azriel's eyes and wiggled her eyebrows at him whilst passing a strawberry through her lips, as if to say you're welcome, and Azriel held back his deep chuckle of reply, turning his attention back toward the pastries and cured meats on his plate. He had gone into the city as early as he could before the stores decided on their closure to grab everything they would need to make y/n's morning as welcoming as possible, and he was glad to see the effort pay off when a decadent smile appeared on her lips after chewing on a certain honey and vanilla crème pastry for a few seconds.

"I see that you've made yourself at home," a dark voice spoke from behind y/n, a hand reaching over to pluck a vine of grapes from her plate on his way around to what y/n presumed to be his usual seat with Feyre in tow, "I take it you slept well after your flight around the city?"

Rhys leaned back in his seat, eyes scanning over her appreciatively at how well she had fallen into the Night Court fashions. "I did actually. The entire morning was going perfectly until you took food off my plate."

"It was a grape, y/n."

Whistling low, y/n widened her eyes, "I cannot wait for you to meet Lorcan. You wouldn't dare to do that if he was here."

"I am a High Lord-"

"And I am his blood-sworn Queen. What you are will mean nothing to him," y/n smiled at the glass that was filled with orange juice which appeared before her.

"Blood sworn?"

Clearing her throat, y/n explained simply, "My blood runs through his and Aedion's veins. They took the blood oath after the war, after I killed my mother and ascended the throne. Lorcan and Aedion would die for me even without the bond, but it is of the highest honour to be given it in our world. Our lives and souls are tied for eternity, even when we're nothing but a whisper of dust between the stars."

It was a consuming notion, to be so bound to another soul not even romantically that it meant that eternities would be spent together, ones long after death.

Nesta seemed taken by the motion, her orbs of silver flame casting over the queen beside her, "Do you have a family name?"

Cutting her gaze to the eldest Archeron sister, y/n's features faltered, tightening with sadness and grief, "Yes," she nearly choked, "I didn't used to, I was just Princess Y/N of Doranelle, but," she drifted, fingernails digging into the surface of the table, "The male who cared for raised me died during the war, he sacrificed himself to save his son," y/n swallowed harshly, "I took his name so that he would always be with me. I'm Queen Y/N Gavriel of Doranelle now."

In a rare moment of softness, Nesta smiled sadly, "I'm sorry that you lost him."

Matching her action, y/n replied, "So am I."

Rhys hadn't realised what his sister had lost, through their story swapping she had never mentioned him, and it was clear to see why when he noted the despair in her eyes. The loss was still fresh for her, and she carried it with her daily.

Wanting y/n to feel the wonder of Velaris that had began to darken in harmony with her sadness, Azriel leaned forward, catching her eye and asking, "Are you ready to see your city?"

With skies clearing, y/n nodded eagerly, pushing her still full plate away from her as they both rose to their feet from opposite sides of the table. Rhys, noticing that she was wearing one of his mother's dresses, choked back his emotion, "We'll come and find you later."

Azriel moved to y/n, using his hand at the small of her back to guide her to a place where they could both stretch their wings and descend upon the city, leaving Feyre caressing Rhys' hand in knowing as his gaze slid to Mor, "That was the dress my mother made for her, she had always wanted to see her grown up. Where did you find it?"

"A cousin never shares their secrets."

The City of Starlight was more magnificent than the place y/n had often dreamt of.

Despite everyone gazing at her like she was the most brilliant jewel in the pile, y/n didn't feel under inspection or threatened, she felt safe and happy, and when children chasing ribbons ran around her legs did she let out the most angelic laugh Azriel had ever heard.

"They love you," he told her after yet another citizen, a old lady with silver hair and waning blue eyes, told y/n of her happiness that the Princess had returned.

Rhys had lifted the veil of illusion the moment she had soared into the city, allowing Velaris to remember what they had lost 500 years ago. It was the least he could do, and luckily the city had been understanding of it, it was to protect the existence of y/n and her power from the rest of the world and those who would seek to harness her. They were overjoyed to put it in simply terms.

"They love the idea of me," she told the Shadowsinger plainly, picking daisies from the grass and twiddling the stalks in her fingers, "They love the power I can offer to protect them. They don't know me enough to love me."

Azriel hummed, "I think you forget that you did spend two years here, that's more than enough time for anyone to fall in love."

They had walked through the city for most of the afternoon, Azriel pointing out bookshops and bakeries that she'd love before leading her down to the Sidra and finding a place to sit along the cobbled shores.

"I was a baby, Azriel," she told him with a faint roll of the eye before the bubbling waters caught her attention as they glided over the rocks.

"A beautiful one if their words are anything to go by," Azriel leant back on his elbows, hair glistening in the sun and chin nodding to the small group of fae across the water, whispering and glancing in their direction.

Smirking, y/n tore her gaze away from the eyes swarming her and turned to Azriel, scanning him in his loose silken shirt and matching black briefs, "Are you calling me beautiful?"

Eyes widening, Azriel's lips parted as his throat fumbled, and it took him a moment to control himself, "You are beautiful," he cocked his head to the side, eyes lazily dragging down her figure causing a blush the creep upon her cheeks, "But you already knew that."

"Smooth recovery," she averted his gaze, missing the grin that tugged at his lips whilst his shadows slithered along the grass toward her, leaping up to graze at the bottom curve of her wings.

The sun was falling in the sky, and the faint sparkle of stars began to litter canvas above which was turning from blue to orange to purple. Citizens had began to gather their things and return to their homes and shops long ago, and Azriel and y/n had watched silently as they did, idly watching the world go by and forgetting what bloodshed loomed for them in the nearby future.

Scraping stones begged their attention from behind, and the shadow of wings cast itself over their close forms. Peering upward, she found Rhys gazing down upon her, and he silently offered her a hand to bring her to her feet, glancing between her and Azriel who had moved closer to her.

"I was thinking that we could go for dinner. Everyone else is already at the restaurant," he folded her hand into the crook of his elbow, "Who knows what tomorrow may bring?"

"I suppose we have to make the most of every moment we have," she smiled into Rhys' embrace as he pressed his lips into her hairline.

And, Azriel couldn't help but linger back, not wanting to get between the eclectic adoration that flowed between them as Rhys led her through the winding streets of the city, laughing and doting on her as much as he could during the short walk.

Stopping at the steps of the restaurant, Rhys ushered her inside, watching her from his space as her face lit up at the sight of his family bickering around a large stone table surrounded by candles. Then he turned, eyes scanning Azriel's face which was directed toward her, and when Azriel caught his eyes he felt relief at the slight nod given to him, not one of thanks or understanding.

But one of approval.

Author's Note

I'm really loving writing this so far - sorry if it feels a little slow, just trying to establish all the love and relationships 🥺🫶🏻

Also still not able to properly tag some people, how do I fix this 😭😭

Taglist

@userxs-blog @riorgail @fandomarchiveilyd @booksandbud4me @acourtofbatboydreams @sidthedollface2 @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @tenshis-cake @rcarbo1 @doodlebugg16-blog @snoopyspace @superspideyparker @wolvesnravens @acourtofbooksandshadows @i-am-infinite @hannzoaks @evergreenlark @quinzzelx @fuckingsimp4azriel @laurzwrites @astrxbabx @michellexgriffey @just-here-reading @cherry-cin @jesskidding3 @yearninglustfully @nerdyalmondlawyerauthor

[kaiser1ns]

#. LIKE A BOY IN LUV

featuring 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗼 𝘆𝗮𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗼 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

fluff + slight angst + slight suggestive. welcome to the top 10 moments in your relationship with the one and only yamato!

word count :: 3,4 k. he may be a little bit ooc but we all love him anyway

DATING ENDO YAMATO is its own category of experience. You wanted a boyfriend, but instead, you got a loyal, loving, wild man who's always by your side with open arms, gift bags, and tons of surprises because he's unpredictable and you never know what he's thinking and what he's going to do.

"You remind me of Alice in Wonderland." walking in the park enjoying the pleasant night air when he spoke squeezing your hand and making you turn your gaze to him. He was smiling, what he was saying clearly really mattered, even if it came out of nowhere. "And I'm the Chesire Cat. I'm always there for you, even when I'm not." Now that you thought about it, he really did resemble the fantasy character. A grinning cat who teaches Alice "the rules" of Wonderland — him teaching you how the delinquent world works. Sarcastic and playful, he can appear and disappear in any location. He is quick to play jokes on others, he is mad, but unlike the others, he admits it with pride. But despite that he is giving you advice on which path to take during your journey called life, practically acting as your wise guide to the point where you're overly joyous to see him every time.

HIS KISSES ARE ALWAYS surprising and unexpected. One day he will kiss you like there's no tomorrow, fast but smooth because he can't get enough of you, the flavor of your lipstick is long gone when you feel his lips making rough motions, a little biting on your lower lip. His hands can't find a place on your body, but you are still as close as ever. He smiles into every kiss, and you can feel it, you can feel his love.

But there are occasions when he takes his time with you. There is no rush or insatiability, only you and him under the dim lights. Slowly, everything is so slow that it makes you dizzy. He kisses you everywhere starting from your face, and then your lips are doing a slow dance, so captivating that they make you want more of him. Your hands play with his hair and his holding you tight on your waist, giving it a light squeeze once in a while, because this is where you are supposed to be. Every part you are insecure about, he will kiss it. Every beauty mark or scar you don't seem to adore, he will kiss it. He will take all of your insecurities and pain away just by worshiping you — you are a Goddess and should be treated as such. Loving someone, and devoting yourself to them takes time, but for him, time has stopped and only you exist in that moment. Only you are important and he will show how deeply he has fallen for you.

HE IS OBSESSED WITH YOU to the point where there was no way out, and you liked that, seeing someone go out of their way to make sure you were okay. But that didn't mean you didn't give him anything in return. Often your dates were outside, whether in a coffee shop, a mall, or an arcade, and every time he paid, it made you uncomfortable and guilty. There was no need for him to pay for everything, but he insisted that you keep your money. And so you saved every bill and penny to give him the perfect birthday surprise when he gets home. 

You planned this for months, knowing exactly what would make him happiest. dolling yourself up, every detail perfect, every thought just for him. The apartment was dark, lit only by the soft glow of candles and the path of rose petals leading to you. You stood there, holding the cake with his favorite flavor, your lips curved into a smile so genuine and full of love that it lit up the room brighter than any candle.

When he opened the front door, his eyes widened in shock, then softened in pure affection. He followed the path slowly, taking in every petal, every flicker of the candles, but mostly he took in you. “Happy birthday, my love!” you whispered, your voice a melody just for him. For a moment, he was speechless. no words could convey the overwhelming emotions flooding through him. Your home was transformed, but you were the true gift. He couldn’t help the tears that welled up in his eyes — tears of pure joy. He wasn’t Endo Yamato, the prodigy, or the man who carried the world for others. He was just your Yamato, your boyfriend who deserved to be loved so deeply and sincerely.

Without saying a word, he gently set the cake aside and pulled you into a tight embrace, kissing you with all the love he had to offer. “You are the best gift in my life.”

ENDO YAMATO TAKES YOU TO A POOL HALL at least a few times a month and you still haven't learned how to play. But it didn't matter to him as long as he spent time with you and now it was your turn, he was leading you with the points, of course. "Come on, sweets. you can do it." Easy to say, but hard to achieve. You bent down and set the cue, the angle was perfect and you just had to hit the white ball using moderate force. Yes, but no. The white ball went in instead of the colored one and you heard your boyfriend laugh.

"Let me help you then.” He came up behind you, his body touching yours as he placed his hands on top of yours, caging you in his strong arms. You swallowed hard too, not that you weren't used to physical contact with him but it just felt different now. "It's simple, doll. You just have to aim well and hold the pole firmly, but not too hard. And then–” and your ball went into the pocket, but only because he controlled your movements. “You score!” he pulled away from you but you could still feel his warmth. "No matter how hard I try I can't…” but that's okay because no matter if you can or not, he is always the winner, but you won his heart. Fair enough, right?

EVEN A SECOND WHERE HE hasn't seen you, heard you or doesn't know where you are will drive him crazy, and at the moment you were neither picking up your phone nor answering his messages and he was expressing emotions he didn't know he had. Your boyfriend had a lot of trust in you, he never had doubts for a second but when you come home drunk, you don't know where you are, your hair is messy, your makeup is smudged and you can barely walk on those heels. He couldn't help thinking of something he shouldn't. You hiccuped as you tried to take them off and even though he was feeling a thousand new emotions of anger he still helped you up and left you lying on the couch. “Yamato~ I missed you!” if you didn't smell like someone else's perfume he would tell you the same thing. Endo poured water for you and there were pills on the side in case you got sick as he sat next to you but not as close as usual. 

“You were with someone else?” you couldn't even understand the question, you couldn't understand what situation you were in right now, and that smile of his was gone. Rubbing hands over your eyes, you stood up from a lying position. "I was with my girl friends. I told you a few days ago.” 

You groaned, trying to sit up, but the room spun in all directions, the lights seemed too bright, his voice too loud. "Yamato... I told you," you muttered, fumbling with your words. His usual cheerfulness was replaced by something you hadn't seen before—jealousy, frustration, anger? It didn't feel like him. "I was with my friends... and their cousin drove us home. He was just looking out for us. That's it. Nothing else," you repeated, blinking up at him, trying to steady your thoughts through the alcohol haze.

He wasn't convinced. Crossing his arms, tapping his feet, glancing at your phone—dead and useless. "Convenient, isn't it? You come home smelling like some guy, looking like you’ve been out all night doing God knows what, and your phone is dead. How am I supposed to believe you when all I see is the opposite?"

You winced at the accusation, your heart pounding harder now from more than just the headache. "Yamato, you know me. I wouldn’t—"

"Do I?" he interrupted, voice harsher than ever before. "Because right now, I think I judged you too fast from the start." His words cut deeper than anything you'd ever imagined he could say. He never doubted you, never questioned your loyalty, and now? 

Tears blur your vision as exhaustion overwhelms you. "I don't care if you believe me or not right now. Go crash at your place or Takiishi's, clear your head, do whatever. I just... I can't do this now." You tried standing, wobbling slightly as you grabbed the doorknob on the front door, holding yourself steady. “If I'm such a person to you, then why are you still here?”

Endo stared at you, his anger softening into something that looked like regret, but he didn’t need another push. You looked and were sure in what you said, and he started something he couldn't finish. Grabbing his shoes, he stormed out as you slammed the door so hard, that the whole apartment seemed to shake—but nothing compared to the ache in your chest. Crumbled to the floor, sobbing, it was clear: the person you loved most had just hurt you in a way you never imagined

ARGUMENTS WITH ENDO YAMATO are bad, and by that, I mean really bad. You blocked him in every social media app, and his number because you don't want to see or hear him. Even blocked him on Roblox and unfriended him in any game you both played. You just need rest to gain your composure, to focus on your mentality, and not have him suffocating you with his obsessive tendencies. It doesn't get any better when you suddenly receive an email from ilovelnynsomuch202839@gmail.com with the title "i miss you, please don't be mad." with a written roman in the text field saying how sorry he is, how he will make sure not to do that anymore and how much he loves you and if you can open the door because he is freezing. 

You can't believe this man and how he will do everything to be with you. Your eyes widen as you go to the window of your apartment and see him there, wearing only a top and jeans, for all his outer garments are in your wardrobe, and you are wearing one, despite saying you hate him. But he will withstand the cold, he always withstands absolutely anything, and to be away from you seemed like torture. You felt another vibration from your phone and it was him again, sending you another email. "i know you see me and i'll sit here as long as it takes♡"

He has no idea the way he makes you feel, you still let him in your heart, and in your home after two hours of him sitting on the bench and when you go to open the door for him, he is hugging you tight, he will never let you go, never make you mad again.

THE TYPE OF BOYFRIEND WHO DOES TIKTOK TRENDS with you, will it be dancing, putting a finger down, or when his whole face is covered in red prints from your lips and lipstick. Almost everything is done. He liked the new trend, especially the song, and part that was on every edit that came out on the for you page. According to him, it perfectly described your relationship and how not to take a video of you fixing yourself in the bathroom mirror putting on some make-up while he was behind you, phone in hand, and the music playing.

“Back to the kitty, 'cause she's kinda pretty. I couldn't stop lookin’ at her ta-ta-ta…” he panned the camera and you saw his reflection moving the phone to your chest and then to your face after you were done with the lipstick and he smiled in the mirror. “Face.” You didn't pay much attention to him, not when you were doing the same thing when there was trendy couple stuff. Flipping the front camera around and quickly set up the phone on the counter as he then quickly walked behind you again and wrapped his arms around your waist, his tattoos on full display as your hands were on his.

“Me and cat mama rolled into the distant fog,” he was looking straight into the mirror where your eyes met and he just smirked, kissing your neck and then looking down at the camera, gently squeezing your torso before the last line came out from the phone.

“Little did she know I'ma nasty dog.” his hands went up to grab your chin and turn your face to his so he could kiss you. The clip was done and you didn't know how many times the audio would repeat, but he wasn't done at all. He held you tight, and he didn't stop, and you were out of breath but your hands went to his chest and pushed him to get the hint. You both couldn't catch your breath because you just had a little make-out session in the bathroom. He went to turn the phone off before saving the video and looking back at you. “Want to ditch the others and continue in the be–?” 

“Yes.” you didn't have to think so much, you were categorical and so was he. Noroshi can have fun themselves fighting people left and right while your boyfriend will show you a different type of fun.

BEING HIS GIRLFRIEND MEANT THAT you are used to hanging out with Takiishi Chika a lot too. You were at the mall, purchase after purchase but you two didn't hold any bags, Endo held everything, and even when you wanted to get something he insisted that a princess like you should hold nothing but a pretty smile on her face. The redhead didn't even look back, he didn't care but you did. “Chika, stop." for some reason he listened to you, maybe it was because you had known each other since childhood and had a great influence on him. It might not matter that much to him, but thanks to him, you met Endo and more or less he had to be nice to him. 

You went to get some bags from Endo, giving them to Takiishi who hadn't reached his hand out at all. At first, the two of you made eye contact, your eyes more insistent than his as he looked away, losing this fight as he took the bags from your hands and you smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Chika.” Turning to your boyfriend who was stunned at how you got none other than Takiishi Chika to carry his own shopping bags. He blushed and laughed a little at this heroic deed of yours. He didn't know how you even did it, how you had such a huge influence over the two of them, especially him. One of his hands was now free and you grabbed it as you started to walk forward. “What a woman you are. Please, teach me your ways.”

HIM HAVING TATTOOS MEANS ONLY ONE THING and that is you can turn him into a coloring book. Sitting on his lap, his arms outstretched and you were creating art – pink, purple, blue, whatever markers and eye shadows were on his buffy arms. You were very focused on making his scorpion tattoo shine, literally because you put pink glitter on it and drew a cute little face. "My nose itches." looking up at the ceiling, wiggling his nose as you carefully made a ribbon on the scorpion's tail, "You have to wait, baby." Of course, he had to wait for the good things, and art is a slow and painstaking process in which the artist shows and expresses their emotions in the paintings. He let out a soft sigh, knowing he had no choice but to endure it if he wanted to keep you happy. His body was a canvas that you could look at all day, it was so intoxicating, he had chosen interesting designs, and how he arranged them ... just beautiful.

“Isn’t it the palette you just bought?” The compass tattoo on his right hand now gleamed with bright colors, and the flames were reddish and fiery, as they reflected your burning love for him. “Yes. Now let me focus, please.” You smiled as you turned the star on his middle finger into a vibrant one with cute eyes, straight out of Super Mario. For the grand finale, you applied some eye shadow to the infinity symbol tattoo on his neck, turning it into a delicate pink bow. "Go look at yourself in the mirror!" you quickly got up from his lap, gently taking his hand with yours so as not to smudge anything.

"It's like a unicorn threw up on me," he grinned, running a finger over his colorful scorpion. He turned slightly to the side to see his back, the Frank tattoo he had with Takiishi was colored in pretty blue hues. "Cute." He gave you a quick peck. Maybe he should let you do this more often—it definitely made you happy.

ENDO YAMATO LOVED TO ANNOY YOU as much as he loved to make you happy. No matter where or when he nagged at you every second you ignored him – maybe because you wanted to take a nap on this lovely afternoon after a stressful and busy day. To have some peace and quiet, but no, someone decided to give you light pokes on the butt, making you let out a heavy sigh. You were almost close to drifting off into the world of dreams, you were so snuggly wrapped up in the blanket, cuddling with the stuffed toy, until someone named Endo Yamato decided it was a good idea to wake you up. "Stop it. Either go to sleep or go annoy Chika." But the touches didn't stop even when you turned on your other side, you mumbled something, it sounded a little like you were screaming into your pillow. You stood up angrily and threw the stuffed toy and pillow at him. "Leave me alone!"

"It will never happen, not even in your dreams." it was your last drop of patience, the last string you could pull as you pushed him off the bed with all your might and he fell on the ground with a loud thud, "Stay down in Hell." Wrapping yourself in the blanket again, and though your pillow was on the ground with him, his was still on the bed, and by the time you placed it under your head, Endo, with all his weight and insolence, lay on top of you. You started banging your hand on the mattress like a time-out because you couldn't breathe. He rose as you gasped and quickly flipped him over, straddling him with your legs as he held your wrists. “Yamato, I will kill you in every possible way.” "Don't, I'm going to like it." that nasty lovely smile on his dumb-looking handsome face, you just wanted to wipe it off and when you realized the position you were in, your nerves just couldn't take it. How can he annoy you and want extra attention only when you are sleepy? You immediately stood up but his arms pulled you down laying on his chest and his heart was beating like crazy because he had fallen madly for you…or in this case, you fell for him. Your breathing started to calm, your eyes closing, his fingers playing with your hair making you relax as much as possible "I love you, you know…" he whispered, wrapping his arms around you and leaving a kiss on your forehead. "I know."

Snuggling into him, but how much more as you were already a part of him, forever and always. "But you'll still be sleeping on the couch." he only hummed in response, slowly drifting to sleep but he knew your love was better than any dream because you were his entire world, the one that made him, the hopeless boy, experience something real.

taglist :: @maruflix @heartkaji @17020 @stunie @kazuhaiku @meidiary @nyxypoo @mydream-synopsis @slerixx

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[girlkisser13]

daylight

"and i can still see it all (in my mind)" "all of you, all of me (intertwined)" "i once believed love would be (black and white)" "but it's golden (golden)"

pairings: addison montgomery x fem!reader

warnings/tags: slight angst but mostly fluff.

summary: addison’s in love with you.

the seattle rain drummed against the hospital windows, a rhythmic backdrop to the chaotic symphony within. addison stood in front of the or board, scanning the names and cases, but her mind was miles away. specifically, it was in the warm, inviting space that you occupied in her heart.

the day had been relentless, filled with back-to-back surgeries and consultations, but none of it compared to the emotional turmoil she felt every time she saw you. the brief moments you stole together were the highlights of her day, yet each encounter was shadowed by the unspoken tension of addison's crumbling marriage to derek and mark's obvious feelings for her.

"addie," a voice pulled her back to reality. she turned to see mark, his usual cocky grin in place. "lunch?"

"not today, mark," she replied, forcing a polite smile. she turned on her heel, heading down the hall towards a quieter part of the hospital where she knew you would be.

she found you in the lounge, sipping coffee and staring out at the rain. her heart ached at the sight of you, making it almost hurt to breathe.

"hey," she said softly, stepping inside. you looked up, your eyes lighting up briefly before dimming with some internal conflict.

"addison," you greeted, your voice steady, though your eyes betrayed the turmoil within. "shouldn't you be with derek?"

she winced at the mention of her estranged husband. "derek and i... it's complicated."

"it always is," you replied, standing up. "but you still have him. and mark... he clearly has feelings for you."

"mark and i are just friends," she insisted, stepping closer. "and derek... derek and i are over. we just haven't figured out the logistics yet."

you shook your head, stepping back. "addison, i can't be the reason you don't go to either of them. i won't do that to you. or to myself."

"y/n," addison's voice broke, a desperate edge to it. "you have to understand. ever since i met you, i haven’t been able to think about anyone else. i haven’t even looked at anyone else since we’ve met. i don't want to think about or look at anyone else now that i’ve seen you. my life used to be in black and white, you brought the color."

tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at her, the sincerity in her words cutting through your defenses. "addison, i..."

"no," she interrupted, taking your hands in her own. "listen to me. i've made mistakes, so many mistakes. but loving you? that's not one of them. you’re the reason i wake up every morning with a smile. you’re the person i want to come home to. please, don't push me away because of derek or mark. they don't matter to me. you do."

you felt the walls you had built around your heart begin to crumble. "addison, this isn't fair to anyone. least of all to you."

"fairness doesn't matter," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "love does. and i love you, y/n. more than i've ever loved anyone."

you searched her eyes, finding only truth and vulnerability there. with a trembling breath, you nodded. "i love you too, addison. i always have."

she pulled you into a tight embrace, the weight of your shared feelings lifting as you held each other. in that moment, nothing else mattered. not derek, not mark. just the two of you and the rain outside, washing away the past, making way for a brighter, more colorful future.

you both stood there for what felt like an eternity, the world outside ceasing to exist. when you finally pulled apart, addison gently cupped your face, her thumb brushing away a stray tear.

"what do we do now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"we take it one step at a time," she replied, her tone resolute. "i'll talk to derek, make it official. and mark... i'll handle mark. but you and me, we start now. no more hiding. no more pretending."

you nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "okay. but i need you to promise me something."

"anything," she said, her heart pounding.

"promise me that no matter what happens, we'll face it together. i won’t let you do this alone."

her eyes softened as she pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "i promise. together, always."

as the two of you left the lounge, hand in hand, the rain continued to fall, but it no longer felt like a barrier. instead, it was a cleansing force, washing away the uncertainties and paving the way for your new beginning.

[cemeteryspider]

In the Wake of Destruction: Part 2

Gambit! Remy LeBeau x Mutant! Fem! Reader

Summary: After Remy's death, you stop being able to process your grief, so you create a time where you don't have to.

*Think WandaVision*

Trigger Warnings: Pregnancy, Death and Grief, Psychological Manipulation, and Emotional Distress

Word Count: 2438

A smile etched itself across your face. The door to your home opened and shut with a single click, and into the kitchen walked your dashing husband, Remy LeBeau. As if you had planned it, you took the sauté pan of shrimp off the stove and onto the table, and plucked the pot from its burner onto the table as well. The spoon levitated out of the drawer and started plating the food. Grits, then shrimp, then some lovely sauce from the pan over top of it.

Remy plucked his plate from the air and sat down at the head of the table. "This looks delicious, Chere!"

You walked up to him at his end of the table and placed a kiss on his forehead. "That's very sweet, darling. Now enjoy."

He spoke to you as you smoothed your dress and apron, sitting down at the other end of the table. "My mama is rollin' in her grave, I've never tasted grits so cheesy and tasty." He continued to pile food into his mouth, and you couldn't help but blush.

"Oh, Remy, what has gotten into you? Being so kind to me!"

He just smiled as he looked up at you. "Not a damn thing, just was wonderin' if you were up for some fun tonight, Chere," The smirk that crossed his face could only mean one thing.

"I think I would be, darling," You smiled right back at him.

~~~

The colors of the world began to bleed onto your face as your belly grew. The sounds of the world were sharper, and smiles brighter. You were ecstatic to be alive. The short dress with bell sleeves made you want to dance the day away, but you had business to attend to. The ladies of the neighborhood gathered around the pool, dipping their toes in the water, drinking beverages, and gossiping about the other women in the neighborhood.

It was one of the most exciting moments of your life when a blonde-bombshell invited you to the pool today. Though pregnant, you were excited to talk to women your own age. When you approached the gate, the blonde came up to you excitedly introducing you to her friends. Their names flew by you so quickly you barely caught any of them, but it didn't seem to matter because soon they were all gushing over your belly and the baby inside.

"Do you think it's a boy or a girl?"

"Do you have names picked out yet?"

"Is the daddy cute?"

"Yeah, tell us all about him."

So you dove into their questions head first. You talked about how you would be delighted about a boy or a girl, that you had some ideas floating around in your head for names but no one would know until the baby arrived, yes your husband was cute, and you went on and on about how wonderful he was.

Pretty soon pool time ended, and all the ladies went home. Well, until the blonde invited herself over to your house, which, to be honest, you didn't mind in the slightest.

"So did you enjoy the pool?" She asked, her voice sweet as honey.

"Yes, I really did, it was nice to get out of the house and just chat with someone," You smiled as you dusted the shelves filled with pictures of you and Remy. Some of them on your wedding day, your honeymoon, a first date picture, even some of prom. You sighed as you tenderly and gently rid them of their dust.

"Why are you pretending?" The question pulled you out of your thoughts.

Your brows furrowed as you put the picture down. "I don't know what you mean by that?"

She looked at you somehow changing outfits in the blink of an eye. "I'm pretty sure you do."

The woman's outfit wasn't the billowing sundress it was a moment ago. It was a stark white jumpsuit with fur lining the collar and wrists. Your eyes narrowed and you considered this for a moment.

"Come on, Y/n, you can't keep this up forever. Just let these innocent people go. They can't fight back."

Your feet left the ground and you stared back at the woman you finally recognized as Emma Frost. "I said. I Don't. Know. What. You're. Talking. About."

With each yell, you got closer and finally with your last breath, you launched her through the wall and out of your house, out of your town, and out of your life.

Calmly you touched the ground again and Remy walked through the door, "Chere! What was that? What's going on?"

He started walking toward you but before you could answer you put your hand on your stomach and groaned, the floor becoming wet beneath you, "Remy... the baby... it's coming."

Now he was rushing over to you and helped you walk over to a chair. Then he rushed to the home phone to call your neighbor, who was a doctor.

Then in an hour, there were two beautiful babies in yours and his arms. "What are we going to name them, Chere?"

You gave him a tired smile. "I think we should name this little guy Charles Logan Lebeau and our lovely little girl Jean Marie Lebeau. After some of our most loyal and dearest friends and family."

"That's perfect. They're perfect."

~~~

"Kids come on! Let's go to the store!" You yelled from the bottom of the stairs up to Charles and Jean. They tore down the steps and rushed to put their shoes on.

"Can we go to the bookstore, mama?" Jean sweetly asked.

"No! Let's go to the arcade!" Charles yelled at his sister.

"No! Mama loves the bookstore! She and I love the bookstore!" She argued.

"I'll do all my chores when we get home!"

The two children kept yelling at you and for a moment you could hear the X-Men yelling at you from beyond the veil of your little town.

"STOP IT!" You turned to your shocked kids. "I'm so sorry. The yelling was a little too much today. How about we do both, my darlings?"

Quickly the frowns dropped from their faces, and they nodded and ran to the car. "I'll be right out! Let me just tell your father where we're going!"

"Okay, Mama!" Your kids yelled from their seats and shut the door after that.

"Sweetie! Oh there you are," you said walking into the backyard where he was weeding the flowerbeds. "The kids and I are going out. We're going to the bookstore, then the arcade, and lastly the grocery store. We'll be back okay?"

He stood up from his knees and smiled. "Sounds good, Chere. I will see you soon."

He placed a short sweet kiss on your lips then you were off to satisfy the children.

When he heard the car drive down the road and across town he threw the gloves off his hands and brushed the dirt off his pants, and he started walking. He walked toward the edge of the town, the one his wife said they had no reason to leave, no matter how much he begged and pleaded to leave and visit their friends.

The more he walked the less he saw. Sparse houses with still people standing in front of them. Some smiling, some crying, and some with fearful looks in their eyes. Yet none of them moved.

His brows scrunched and he walked toward one of them. Still, they didn't move until he was close enough to hear the voice behind the smile, literally.

"Please help us." The voice kept repeating behind the everlasting smile.

Remy took a step back and started running toward the edge which started to lose the vibrant color he never noticed in the town until the absence of it was apparent. He walked toward the edge and touched the wall that separates him from the outside world. He pushed against it but he felt it strain against him.

As he did he could see some people behind the wall. Charles, the professor sitting in a wheelchair. Kurt Wagner, who upon seeing him, teleported himself inside the walls of Remy's confinement.

Tentatively Kurt started to walk up to him, "Remy? Is that you?"

The crease in Remy's brow furrowed. "Course it is furball, what's goin' on?"

"I do not know how to tell you, but you are not real. You cannot leave because you are an illusion created by our dear Y/n."

Remy's heart started to quicken. "How can that be? No, we have children together. We got married. This is our life..."

"When did you get married to her? Where was the honeymoon? Und why can't you remember?" With each question a pain worsened behind Remy's eyes.

"I-I don't... I don't understand. But I'm here right now," Remy looked down at his hands which seemed to be non-existent. He turned over his hands, but they weren't there. He started to walk back towards the center of town, and slowly they reappeared.

"I am sorry to have to break this to you, mein Freund. However, it is odd to speak to you after the eulogy at your funeral," Kurt's mouth formed an O shape, "I misspeak... I-I meant-"

"I died. This is how she is mourning me," Remy's head landed in his hands. "I'm dead, and she imagined the life we always wanted in reality."

"Es tut mir leid, mein Freund. But we have to stop her, and help free these people. You see they are trapped in her illusion against their will. Please will you help, the last person we sent in was how do you say, seen out of the establishment," He vaguely remembered the day the twins were born... created and the large hole in the wall of the living room that was closed the next day.

"I will help you. Give me until the end of the day," Remy stared at the ground and Kurt put a hand on his shoulder.

"Danke und goodbye, mein Freund," Kurt teleports out into the world beyond the town and beyond your reach.

He started walking back to the house where he spent the best days of his life with you. Well, he supposes all of the memories made by him.

~~~

A cold wave of dread washed over you as you left the grocery store and saw your husband waiting by the car.

"Daddy!" Your children yelled and ran to him. He opened his arms and gave them each a tight hug.

"Why don't you go to the playground across the street. Your mom and I need to... talk," They gave him and you a quick wave and ran to the playground equipment.

"Hey, darling, I didn't expect to see you here," You could feel your palms start to sweat, "Could you help me put the groceries in the car?"

"Y/n... what have you done?" He whispered in your ear as he pulled you close.

A breathy chuckle left your throat. "I don't know-"

"Chere, please don't lie to me. You need to set things right. These people are innocent."

Your brows furrowed and you looked into his eyes. "They're fine. They're living their lives in this new reality. I'm sure of it."

You could feel your grip loosening, and someone was walking up to you seemingly in a trance, "Please let us go. We see your nightmares when we sleep and when we are awake. Please, I have a family and they haven't moved in days."

You started to collapse to the ground, but Remy held you until you were both on the ground. You didn't notice the tears running down your face until he started wiping them away.

"You have to let me go," He said, looking into your eyes.

"Okay, but just one more night, and then I'll let you go," He seemed to consider this for a moment and looked across the street to the kids that were playing together, but alone.

"Let's go home, Chere," He helped you up off the ground and the people around you started to walk off into the distance. People you had never seen but felt in the bounds of the town. You gathered your family in the car and went home just as the sun was setting over your personal paradise.

You led the kids upstairs and to their bedroom where you helped them into their pajamas and tucked them into bed. You went to give Charles a kiss. "Mom, I'm too old for that."

You gave him a sad smile and brushed a few strands of hair from his forehead. "Okay, sweetie."

You went over to the other bed and leaned over to give Jean a kiss.

"What's happening, Mama?" She asked you with a pinch of fear in her tone.

"Charlie... Jeanie... I love you so much. No matter how far apart we are or will be I love you more than the world itself," You swept a stray tear from your face and got up.

"Wait, Mama. I think I need a kiss," Charles said quietly, and you understood that he was saying it partially for himself but mostly for your sake.

You walked over and gave him a kiss on his forehead. "Goodnight, kids. Sweet dreams."

As you approached the door you turned back to see two empty twin-sized beds. You continued to cry as you made your way to your and Remy's room. He was waiting on the bed looking out the window into the slowly disappearing town around you.

"Hey," You said, sitting down and looking at him.

"Chere, I love you, and I'm sorry we never got a true goodbye while I was alive," He pulled you into his side and you rested your head on his shoulder.

"I love you too. For our last night together, will you just hold me."

He looked at you and laid down. "Anything you want, Chere."

You laid down with him and he pulled you into his arms. You could feel his hands calmly stroke your hair and tuck you close. A shine blurred your vision and you closed your eyes allowing yourself to take in all of your soulmate. The smell of his favorite cologne, the feel of his skin under your fingertips, and his soft breathing. You felt your breathing slow and without your permission, your body fell asleep.

~~~

When you woke up in the morning you were laying on a familiar gurney in the basement of the mansion with the professor sitting in his chair next to the bed.

"Ah, you're awake. We have much to discuss."

[oceaneyesinla]

This was written in honour of Softie Sunday, thank you for the inspiration Rei!!!! <3 @peachsukii

Never Stop (Wedding Version) by SafetySuit was running through my head when I wrote that ending - it's such a sweet song 🥹

Divider by @/cafekitsune

Shoto knows you're working on ... something; he can hear your happy little giggles every so often, and he can practically feel the joy radiating off you from across the garden. You asked him not to peek, though, and so he doesn't - content to bask in your presence from afar while he builds the new garden table you both picked out the week before.

Of course you had offered to help him, sweet eyes worried as you fretted over him and lips slipping into a little pout. He insisted you rest though - you're still sporting an ankle brace after a nasty fall during a villain fight, and he's determined to make sure that you don't lift a single finger while you're recovering. He can still remember the sheer terror that shot through him as he watched you fall; eyes closed and limbs limp. It was only minutes until Denki confirmed he had you and you were alive, but it felt like a lifetime when he was waiting to hear whether his world was falling apart or not.

He pushes the memory aside - there's no need to focus on what could have happened, when he has everything he ever wanted right here. You're safe, humming to yourself in the garden of the house you bought together, and he can't help the smile that lifts up his lips as he thinks about you and the future the two of you are building.

He doesn't need to be facing you to know when you move; after this long, he has a sixth sense when it comes to you. You're coming closer, and he can picture your pretty smile in his mind - it's the one you always wear when you look his way, sweet and soft and full of all the love he knows in his soul you feel for him. He's doubted a lot in his life, but he'll never doubt your devotion - not when he's equally as adoring.

He's crouched down, screwing one of the wood sections into place and he feels you press a gentle kiss to the crown of his head before you place something on top of his head, your fingers brushing ever so gently against his hair. Placing his tools down on the grass, he twists to look up at you, falling in love all over again with the bright spark in your eyes and the happy grin splitting your face. You look beautiful, the afternoon sunlight surrounding you in a golden glow.

Pushing up to standing, he leans in to press a kiss to the tip of your nose then your forehead, relishing the little giggle it pulls out of you. Your arms wrap around him and he swears he can see hearts in your eyes as you look at him - probably reflecting the ones in his own.

A few stray strands of hair are falling into your face, and he brushes them away with a featherlight touch, "Are you planning to tell me what you put on my head, or should I start guessing?"

You look delighted, "I made you a little present. You look so pretty!"

You're pulling out your phone and a few taps later, you hold it out to him, camera open so he can see himself. His head is adorned with a crown of wildflowers - you must have been sitting in the patch of them next to the house. It's your favourite part of the garden, and he can just imagine you there, legs criss crossed and bathed in sunlight.

"It's beautiful, love. It would suit you better, though." It always makes his chest feel ready to burst when you do things like this - treating him like he's a masterpiece created by an artisan, like he's something to be cherished.

"Nuh uh! It suits you, Sho!" Your smile is brighter than the sunlight surrounding you both, "How is the table going? Do you need anything?"

He reaches up to his head, lifting the flower crown with infinite care, as if he's holding the most delicate pottery, and placing it on your head, pressing another kiss to the skin just underneath where it sits when he's done, "Only you."

His heart speeds up when you smile up at him, and he will never get used to you. He doesn't want to, either. He wants to feel this way about you every single day for the rest of his life. Under the sunlight, in the garden of your new home, he's certain he always will.

@pixelcafe-network

[luneariaa]

ᯓ★٠ ࣪⭑ UNSPOKEN. ✧ KENJI S. { 𝐈𝐕. }

✰ — PART 4 • FINAL PART ; overall fluffy moments. decided to end the story just right here bc i'm worried that it may seem as if the story is being dragged + lack of ideas + just wanted the ending to be all sweet and fluffy :") 💌🍡 THIS PART COULD BE READ AS A STANDALONE STORY.

✰ — also, i wanted to thank everyone for your endless support + to those who actually read this story! it means a lot to me 😭💜💜💜

✩₊˚. PART 1 — PART 2 — PART 3.

. dividers by @/strangergraphics ⛓️ !!

ANY TRACES of bleakness within his monochromatic world gradually fades away— replaced with a brighter, hopeful one, that he's not willing to let go anytime soon.

But does Kenji Sato have regrets? Of course, he has.

Nevertheless, he never regretted the fact that he was able to raise Emi; rebuild his trust and relationship with his dad; having his own happiness.

He never regretted of meeting you.

There are lot of things that he wishes he was able to do with you sometime soon. Perhaps, something like traveling to other places— away from the public eye, or just things that's purely intended to be basic domesticity.

Marriage has never once crossed his mind due to his job and lifestyle, but he knew that he did the right thing when he decided that it was you, when his eyes first landed upon your being.

He knew it all too well that his life is going for a rather drastic change— even after all these years, welcoming all of it with open arms. All the best and his worst sides, you accepted them wholeheartedly. Kenji genuinely wanted to be a better person for you.

Some days are quite difficult to go through, which causes an internal struggle to form within his entire being, not knowing on what to do. Yet, your mere presence made everything seem more lighter and slightly better than before, inferring that he has found his own safe haven— which is with you alone.

Kenji shifts upon the bed he laid on, gradually coming to his senses and realizing that the spot on his side is devoid of warmth— unoccupied coldness being his only company, much to his half-dazed state.

Blinking the somnolence away from his eyes, he slowly brings up one of his hands to brush the empty spot beside him, as if he's trying to sense your presence, any remnant of you in a way. He wouldn't lie, he's a little disgruntled to be awakened, and to find you gone from his side.

"Right here, Ken." You spoke out of the blue in a slightly loud, yet soft tone from the balcony of your shared home nearby, which immediately caught onto his attention— deciding to approach your figure, albeit a little groggily.

His feet padded across the room, trying his best to focus his vision on your familiar silhouette close by; chaperoned by the upcoming daylight from the clear skies.

Kenji, without any signs of hesitancy, rests his head atop of your right shoulder— which prompts you to giggle lovingly at his mere actions, greeting him first while placing your palm on the side of his face.

"Good morning, love."

He lifted his head for a bit, and returned the look that you gave him, humming almost inaudibly while grinning as he started to feel giddy internally, just because of the gaze within your eyes that you've reserved for him.

"Good morning, sweetheart." His voice is evidently still laced with sleep, much to your amusement, yet still understanding.

He effortlessly engulfs your form against his own, allowing his arms to be encircled around your waist, and burying his face within your neck after— inhaling your natural scent that he has grown to love so deeply.

"Have you slept well?"

"Could've slept better, honestly." He murmured against your neck, huffing quietly. "Woke up, only to find you missing from my side. Missed you a lot."

You couldn't help but to stifle a giggle at his remarks, yet feeling the slight feeling of guilt creeping within you. "Aww, I'm sorry baby. I just thought of getting some quick fresh morning air, and didn't want to wake you."

This only made him pout for a bit further, grumbling under his breath, yet you could hear each word perfectly. "Hmph but still.."

"I wouldn't mind, y'know. I would've loved to wake up with you next to me."

"Or if you wanted to just watch the sunrise— I would gladly wake up for you."

"I'll keep that in mind for the next time." You chuckled lightly, taking an instant note of his words before you decided to turn around so that you could give the taller male a proper embrace— tight, yet not uncomfortably so.

"You're still not too late for it though." Kenji merely hums upon the truth of your statement, which made him actually feel content, returning the embrace with an equal fervor once more.

He wishes that you deeply acknowledge that you alone kept him grounded— the sole anchor that kept him away from all the unwarranted, tempestuous things, and even thoughts that he has to face on the daily at times.

Kenji trusts you wholeheartedly.

It's undeniable at this point because it's simply real and the sole truth. One could even tell it from the way he treated you, and even the way he would speak to you— even from his actions alone has shown it all.

He may be so vocal about it, or on some days, he won't, so he shows his love through his actions instead. Maybe it's the way he held you tight after a long or rough day, the way his eyes would find itself to gaze upon your form—

— and it never fails every time.

Even when he's in his Ultraman form— he would use his massive hands to carry you up elsewhere, either for safety reasons or just for fun. You look quite tiny within his palms, and your eyes would lovingly stare up at him because you knew who it was.

You didn't shy away, you weren't afraid of him, because despite his double twice of size changes, his touch remains delicate and meticulous, as if he's afraid of possibly dropping or hurting you.

The view from up above is magnificent, to say the least, getting a worth of free view. You wouldn't trade it for the world ever. A breathtaking sight that you could witness alone, a privilege that's reserved only for you.

And so, you would give him the familiar adoring stare, along with a beaming grin, knowing all too well that he was still the man who held your heart dearly— whom you allowed to be in, even within your personal space.

In spite of everything, he's still him. Whether in his Ultraman form or not, you loved him all the same.

You saved him from his own previous monochromatic world, and filled it with colors that he always, deep down needed.

And so, he did with yours.

i might not be as active with writing after this ( though i'll try my best to be! ) due to work reasons :")

{ ✰ tags : @mochminnie, @aishallnotbefound, @scarasw1f3, @bakugouswaif. }

@luneariaa. do not repost; reblogs are welcomed. all rights reserved.

[stuckybangs]

Thank you to all the participants in this year's reverse bang! We're thrilled to present the incredible 34 collaborations in this round! From the artists, to authors, to betas, pinch hitters and cheerleaders, we thank you all for being a part of this year's bang!

Under the cut you'll find all the collaborations from this year. Enjoy!

Touch Me and You'll Never Be Alone [not rated, wip] art by @metalbvcky written by @hanitrash

Bucky is barely managing to get by on his own, but is proud of the small, safe life he's created for himself. He's even content to thirst in secret over the insanely hot older man that recently moved to the area. But when a popped tire and an early season winter storm combine to throw their paths together, Bucky's carefully constructed life is about to get flipped upside down.

hold my body (hold my breath) [Teen, 2/2, 16k] art by @alwaysabrighterdarkness written by @teenytabris

“You were born in a storm. On a rocking boat, too. Maybe that’s where all this started,” his ma had said, kissing his head and rocking him in her arms. “Demanded to come into the world in an in-between place. Couldn’t wait to get to America,” she joked. Steve didn’t know what that meant, but he did know that even imagining a boat out there, getting tossed by waves, made him feel ill enough that even looking at the rain made him retch weakly. His ma tutted, and pressed a hand to his forehead. -- Steve has always had an all-consuming fear of water, and nearly drowning twice only made it worse. One day, after just turning on a tap sends him spiraling, he has to consider what his breaking point is.

Runaway [Teen, 8/8, 20k] art by @alwaysabrighterdarkness written by @mandyyvibes

Steve still felt a little guilty that Bucky was willing to do all that for him. Did he really deserve his unconditional loyalty? He could’ve picked anyone at school to be best friends with, but he picked him, and Steve would never know how he got so lucky. The thought of running away was comforting, anyway, even if maybe they couldn’t actually leave for a while. Days, weeks, months. — In which Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes grow up together under circumstances that no child should have to face, and Bucky paints Steve daydreams of a better life together, if only they could run far enough.

Finding You With Open Arms [Gen, 1/1, 8.5k] art by @taybay14 written by LuxuryVelvetStudebaker

Coming home means the big things are the little things

Some legends are told [Explicit, 2/2, 26k] art by @rufferto9 and @chaosmanor (additional art) written by @chaosmanor

Twenty-eight billion kilometers. Four thousand years. That's how far Bucky has gone to get away from HYDRA, and that's how far Steve will have to go to bring him home.

The art of shadowboxing [Explicit, wip] art by @burnin-brighter written by @dharmasharks

In 1918, Bucky is forced to flee New York with his family. In 1923, he returns as a prize fighter, determined to send money to his sisters and stay far away from the gang violence that destroyed their home. And then Steve Rogers shows up. These days, Bucky’s childhood pal isn’t facing down neighborhood bullies. He’s taking on every factory owner in the Garment District—and every gangster they hire to intimidate union members. By joining the fray as Steve’s bodyguard, Bucky can finally stand up to the mobsters who took so much from him. And if that means spending a whole lot of time by Steve’s side…well, that’s just an added bonus.

In the Mood to Let You Know [Mature, wip] art by @burnin-brighter written by @voylitscope

Bucky's never liked keeping secrets from Steve, but there are a few things he hasn't told his best friend over the years. These days? There are three. The two new ones he begins keeping in the summer of 1925, and that one massive secret he's been holding onto since 1918. (Or: During the height of the 1918 flu outbreak in New York, a seveneteen-year-old Steve spends a month indoors. Steve and Bucky write letters to pass the time and keep in communication. By the time Steve is out and about again, they've said a few things they'll never say out loud.At least not until 1925, when Bucky can't seem to stop running into Steve in unexpected places. )

Desert Fires [Explicit, 1/1, 9.6k] art by @zanthems written by @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy

Bucky doesn’t plan to end up high and naked in the desert with stars shining in the heavens and his eyes with his dick deep inside a dainty, beautiful man with sparkling sapphire eyes and chapped, bitten lips that drive all coherent thoughts from his mind. He didn’t intend for any of it to happen, but that’s where he’s found himself, nonetheless.

Coffee, Sugar, and Pine [Mature, wip] art by @taybay14 written by @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy

There’s nothing Bucky loves more than his cat Alpine and an excellent cup of coffee. After three tours in the army, he’s probably earned a few breaks and an IV of caffeine. When he steps into a café in Brooklyn where a spunky redhead mans the cash register and a sassy blonde with sparkling blue eyes concocts delicious hot beverages, Bucky realizes he’s found his perfect drink and perhaps his ideal mate. Now, he can’t stop thinking about how to guarantee that he’ll have both for the rest of his life.

Let's Do It [Teen, wip] art by @skullfragments written by @trinitydaydabbles

Even before Steve drags him up before the crack of dawn to go running, Bucky is already plotting his revenge. If only Steve didn't know him so well, maybe the day wouldn't devolve into a game of one-upmanship.

Human Lens [Teen, wip] art by @taybay14 written by @chaossmagic

Torn from his old life and dumped unceremoniously in the 21st century, and then having to face an alien attack just months after coming out of the ice, Steve Rogers is struggling to come to terms with everything he's lost and isn't sure the title of Captain America is one he feels 100% comfortable with anymore. Alone, deeply lonely and desperate for anything to help him feel like his old self again, he stumbles across the work of fellow veteran and photographer Bucky Barnes, who specialises in helping wounded soldiers reclaim their bodily autonomy and sense of self after injury in combat. When he asks Bucky to take his own photograph, he finds the connection he's been looking for the entire time. And, as it just so happens, Bucky finds exactly the same thing.

Taking Pictures [Gen, wip] art by @taybay14 written by @leavinghopeao3

Reporter Steve Rogers and photojournalist Bucky Barnes stumble across a conspiracy at the heart of the United States government. Will they be able to stop it before it's too late? And will this fight bring them closer together?

lost to time [Mature, wip] art by @rufferto9 written by @burnin-brighter

As Steve returns the last Infinity Stone, he realizes there is nothing for him to return to in 2024. His friends, the ones who are still here, have families they want to be with or people they need to help. Steve has no one. Bucky died in 1944, Natasha died on Vormir, Tony perished in the fight with Thanos. What is he supposed to do? There are many options in front of him, though before he can make up his mind, a ghost from his past appears. Could it really be his Bucky?

A Game for Two [Mature, 1/1, 9.9k] art by einahpets written by @dontcallmebree

Steve will never forget the itch under his skin, the need to peel the world back until it finally felt right. He knows he would have gotten it then, would’ve finally latched his teeth around this amorphous, unnamable thing that had been haunting him if it weren’t for the Winter Soldier. If it weren’t for Bucky. And ain’t that a trip and a half—if not for Bucky. Story of his fucking life. The hands of fate are familiar, loving, and too cruel by half.

Til the End of the Line [Teen, 7/7, 14.7k] art by @taybay14 written by @xoxobuckybarnes

Back home after their first tour, the Avengers are getting ready to record their second album - they just have to write it first. Lead singer, Bucky Barnes, struggles to write a song that's not about his childhood best friend, the drummer of the band, Steve Rogers. The problem is, Steve has no idea how Bucky feels about him. When another childhood friend starts leaning on Steve, Bucky must decide if it's time to let his crush go, or to finally be brave and let Steve know how he feels.

Plan Bee [Gen, 1/1, 15k] art by britbrit99 written by @hkandiu

Steve is still getting used to the 21st century and begins to frequent farmers markets, where he becomes a regular customer of Shield Apiary, a small business selling all things honey. As he enters that sweet chapter of his life, Tony decides to take on a new project - finding someone for Steve! Steve lies to the team that he's already dating someone but before he can come clean, Tony reaches the wrong conclusion that Steve is dating one of the owners of Shield. Except, Steve's never met Bucky, much less gone on a date. Becca somehow talks the men into pretending to date to help Steve, and the month isn't what anyone expected...

The Beekeeper & The Gardener [Gen, 10/10, 13k] art by britbrit99 written by E_Greer

Every morning, Bucky likes to greet the dawn and watch morning runner guy. Every morning, Steve likes to sip his coffee and watch plant guy. One morning, runner guy and plant guy meet.

Let Us Partake in Summer’s Bounty [Teen, 1/1, 11.8k] art by britbrit99 written by @theflailing

Spring was one of Steve’s favourite seasons; it was a time of renewal and intention, a time to plant the seeds of things that will yet bear fruit, both literal and metaphorical. It was a time when the chilly grip of winter gave way to the lush green of new growth; it was when the world took its first deep breath and stretched its limbs after the long, somber solitude that preceded it. Although Steve was born in the height of summer, his mother always said that he did not belong there. “I did a reading, the day you were born,” she would tell him often, a soft and loving sparkle in her eyes. “Your heart belongs to the springtime; it is an omen that marks your soul.” -8- Steve is never one to turn down a request for help, and as he prepares to accept this call for aid, he reflects on his life, the friends he has made, and the community he serves.

I'll Use You (As A Focal Point) [Teen, wip] art by @taybay14 written by @lynlee494

The Soldier’s understanding of the world begins to unravel after he completes a mission and finds a helpless, shivering, and soaking wet kitten. Unable to leave, knowing the frail thing will die in the elements, the Soldier makes a choice... The Soldier can not risk contact, capture, and the inevitable return to Hydra and captivity would bring. He may remember Steve Rogers, but he also remembers Captain America. Similarly enhanced, the Captain would have the advantage, the Soldier’s movement would be limited with the kitten’s safety to consider.A surveillance approach is the safest angle to take. There had been notebooks at the museum exhibit, so there may be more memories to be dredged up if Steve Rogers still keeps journals, keepsakes, things that may stir up more memories - more pieces to fill in the expanse between Bucky and the Soldier.He’ll seek out Steve Rogers, who seems to feature in nearly every memory with Bucky, but he’ll be cautious. Can hopefully glean from the exposure more about the time before Bucky – before he – was presumed dead in a war. From before Steve’s Bucky became Hydra’s, time stuttering by till the Soldier was born.

5 Times Bucky Tricked Steve Into Washing His Hair +1 Time He Didn’t Have To Ask [Explicit, 8/8, 34.8k] art by @taybay14 written by @norelationtoatticus

During the worst of his recovery, Steve used to wash Bucky’s hair for him. Now, Bucky is a semi-stable hundred year old man who can bathe all by himself… but he misses Steve washing his hair for him. Asking for it? Out of the question. Lies, subterfuge, and expertly crafted machinations to manipulate Steve’s big, soapy hands right where he wants them? Much more Bucky’s style.

Piece By Piece [not rated, 10/10, 34.7k] art by @skullfragments written by @taybay14

Steve and Bucky are discovered on the bank of the Potomac & brought to Stark Tower. From the beginning, everyone has one thing on their mind: Help Bucky. It’s going to be hard, but they're ready to give it everything they’ve got - and they’re the Avengers, so they’ve got quite a lot. *** “Hey, Buck,” Steve says, his voice soft. Bucky lays on his side, pressing a cheek to the soft carpeting, wishing he hadn’t ruined all his blankets. He hates feeling cold and it’s a little cold in his room. “You don’t have to talk or come out or anything, but… I’m going to lay here, okay? All night. I’m going to stay right here so you don’t forget that it’s different now. So you don't forget that you’re safe. You’re not alone.” Bucky doesn’t know what to say to that. Even if he did know, his tongue is doing that heavy-sticky thing again. Instead, he slides his flesh fingers under the crack in the door, barely able to fit the tips, and waits. A moment passes. Then Steve’s fingers are pressing right back. And maybe Steve is right. Maybe things are different, maybe he is safe, maybe he’s not alone. Maybe - just maybe - he’ll be able to get himself back after all, piece by piece.

Now That I've Met You [Teen, 3/3, 11k] art by @louikazooie written by @megs-bee

First day back from vacation, not even inside the building yet and Bucky’s boss calls, telling him to head straight up to the executive suite. “The short version is that we’ve found ourselves with a VIP who needs a personal assistant immediately,” Pepper sighs. “The longer version is that we discovered the previous assistant was selling information on said VIP’s schedule and other high-security details which resulted in, among other issues, an attempted…let’s call it assault.” Pepper hands over the StarkPad open to what Bucky recognizes as a personnel file. Commander S. G. Rogers. If he’d been drinking his coffee at that moment, he’d have choked.

The Rest Are Stories To Tell [Teen, wip] art by @taybay14 written by @endlesstwanted

After he broke free from HYDRA with Steve and his new friends’ help, Bucky is working on reconnecting with himself living in the Avengers Tower with his cat Alpine. Soon, a dream brings back memories of his time as the Winter Soldier and one specific location in which he supervised experiments like the ones he went through. The team works together to figure out what’s real and puts the pieces together to prepare against a potential hidden thread by HYDRA before they run out of time —or the experiments run out of time. What would happen if, on top of this, Bucky discovered a secret related to Steve and me that would tie them together more than they have ever been?

out of the darkness, out into the light [Mature, wip] art by bergamotene written by @burnin-brighter

There were very few things Bucky disliked in life, although chaperoning his sister at every ball of the season was one of them. It was boring, long, and overall unpleasant. Or it used to be, until the day Bucky laid eyes on the most beautiful man he had ever seen at such an event. The man wasn’t familiar, Bucky would have remembered seeing him before. And after the first night, Bucky saw him everywhere. While he slept, while he daydreamed, while he walked around town. There was no escaping this stranger. And perhaps Bucky did not want to. What was the worst that could happen if Bucky were to let himself give in to his thoughts, to his urges?

Penumbra [not rated, 1/1, 12.7k] art by bergamotene written by @bonky-bornes

There was nothing more dangerous than having a soulmate. That’s what James had been taught his entire life. Being bound to another, life for life, got one killed just as surely as treason. Anyone with the mark of a binding was executed. Kings and peasants alike, it didn’t matter. There was nothing more dangerous than secondary loyalty to your Kingdom. James mastered the art of knives and silence, he learned to move like a shadow, unseen and inescapable. Bondeds were a disease, and he was a cure. He’d rather have his hands stained red than see his people suffer. Bondeds killed to protect one life. James killed to protect them all. - The Northern and Southern Kingdoms have been at war over Bonded Pairs for years. When a temporary armistice is proposed, and James is invited to the Southern Kingdom, it's one last chance to find a way towards peace.

No Better Version of Me [Teen, 3/3, 26.8k] art by @koreanrage written by @film-in-my-soul

Like Steve’s got a shooting star fused to his pulse (and hell, it just might be), he makes a wish. Thanos is stopped from making the snap. But just because Steve managed to save everyone else, it doesn't mean he can save himself.

no years of silence in the shadow of regret [Gen, 1/1, 9.7k] art by @koreanrage written by @hipsterdiva

“I’m fine,” Steve says again without looking at him. “You don’t have to stay.” It takes a while, and for a second, Steve thinks that perhaps Bucky will get up, pack his bag and his cat and leave. For a second, Steve hopes that’s what’s gonna happen. Then Bucky speaks. “I know,” he says. And stays. Or, Steve has baggage, communication is difficult, and (baby) steps are taken.

A Safe Place To Land [Explicit, wip] art by @kahey2804 written by @gloromeien

Bucky Barnes had it all—grease under his fingernails, dog fur behind the cushions of his couch, a cozy place to call his own. The house, the truck, the dogs, the works. A ride-or-die, close-knit community. A patch of land he could wander. A mountain view to inspire him. After six tours of duty and nine months in captivity, Bucky knew how bad things could get, so he didn't dare ask for anything else. Especially not someone to hold. Until a tall, blond super-soldier crash-landed into his quiet life and threatened to make all his dreams come true. For now.

Soul Mates and Circumstances [Explicit, wip] art by @kahey2804 written by @sunriserose1023

It’s a classic story. Boy meets boy, they share an instant connection. They have a night of pure heaven, and then life steps in. That’s the story for Bucky and Steve. They had one great night, then radio silence. Until they manage to cross paths again, but they seem destined to ghost each other. Maybe it’s just not meant to be. But what if it is?

All Along - It Was You [Explicit, 8/8, 34.k] art by @burnin-brighter written by @taybay14

It all started with a suggestion from Natasha - which should have been Steve's first clue that it'd end in trouble. She suggests a BDSM club that allows photostatic veils for anonymity, knowing Steve has growing desires he's been desperate to explore. Of course, she didn't bother to warn him of three very important facts: 1. Bucky Barnes is a member of this club 2. Bucky Barnes is apparently gay 3. Bucky Barnes is a dom Steve is stunned when he comes face to (veiled) face with Bucky Barnes himself his first night at the club. His brain malfunctions. Surely, that's the only reason why he does the incredibly idiotic thing of accepting Bucky's invitation to play with him. He knows he shouldn't - but what will one night of lies hurt? One night to scratch the itch, to get Bucky Barnes out of his system once and for all, and then Steve can move on. Except when Bucky keeps giving him chances for more, Steve finds himself unable to walk away. Like Steve said before... trouble. Unfortunately for him, he's always been a magnet for that kind of thing.

Complicate this world you've wrapped for me (I'm acquainted with your suffering) [Explicit, wip] art by LadyGigi written by @hanitrash

The Captain is sent on a mission to prove his ability to perform without the assistance of a STRIKE team. What he doesn’t know is that it’s more than his competence being tested…because if he passes, the face of HYDRA—and the fate of the world—will be forever changed.

Stephanos of the Glade [Explicit, 9/9, 22.6k] art by @murkycrush written by @wolfiefics

Escaped gladiator slave Iacomus discovers a new path in life as a guardian of a mysterious glade and it's equally godlike inhabitor, Stephanos, the river god of the Aneine River. With Stephanos' intercession, he learns to live a life outside of slavery with the help of Artemis, Ares, Demeter, and many other Greek/Roman gods. He finds his purpose in helping Stephanos protect the river from one who would cause it harm. Possibly to the death.

Covert Display [Explicit, 1/1, 8k] art by @murkycrush written by @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy

For decades, Bucky suffered, but he’s finally back with Steve, completing missions together, and going home to a shared apartment. Despite their past, nothing’s happened between them since waking up in the twenty-first century. Until it does. Bucky just never intended for anyone else to see.

I Wanna Break a Sweat, Eating Your Juicy Cake [Explicit, 1/1, 13.4k] art by @mxaether written by @theflailing

When Bucky finally has some time off work, he books a flight to DC to visit his best friend and old college roommate, Sam. While there, Bucky decides that he needs to blow off some steam, and a Grindr hookup is exactly the thing that will scratch that itch. When the hottest guy on the planet starts sexting him, Bucky can't believe his luck. But the universe has more in store for Bucky than he ever could have hoped for, and with the luck that he's about to have, maybe he should buy a lottery ticket, because it feels like all of his dreams are coming true.

Thank you again to all the participants this year!

[crimsonmoonlight88]

Together Strong

Pairing: Noa x Mae

A/N: Help, I've fallen and I can't get up. Just a short drabble inspired by a scene from Avatar that refused to leave my mind.

--

It was hard to believe the war for world domination was over for now--harder, even, to think how much had changed since the first time Mae had stepped into this ruined observatory and gazed upon the stars.

Like that fateful night, the sky was dark and cloudless, glittering with stars and the promise of a brighter future. Mae had been wrong, then. The world did not belong to the humans--it belonged to humans and apes, and together they would need to navigate this new age.

The Eagle Clan had tripled in size, and was now established as one of the leading territories. The Clan had chosen a new Master of Birds and Warlord, which called for a celebration. Mae had never known what it was like--to feast and laugh and tell stories over bonfires. To listen to the beating of drums and chants of song.

The festivities that followed the ceremony would last long through the night, and she had needed a moment of quiet, seeking this long forgotten place beneath the stars.

As Mae moved toward the telescope, she heard him enter, intentionally making himself known as to not startle her. But he did not speak. She wondered when he had noticed she had slipped away; he always seemed keenly aware of where she was, just as she was of him.

The past few weeks--months, really--had been nothing but plotting and planning and fighting. There had been blood, and death, and little time to talk about much else but war and peace. Mae did not mind. It let her avoid the truths she feared to acknowledge.

But she knew she could longer avoid them.

"It feels like ages since we were here," she said finally, a hand trailing over the cool bite of metal. "You are the Master of Birds now." She dug a finger into a groove, feeling moist dirt there. "Anaya says you will make a bow from the wood of the tallest tree." She paused. "And you will choose a mate."

Noa said nothing, watching her from the shadows in that silent, still way of his.

For some reason, Mae could not look at him, even though she could hardly look away during the ceremony. He had been covered in dark blue and white woad, adorned in armor that made him look more a knight than an ape. Master of Birds and Warlord. A leader.

Mae reached up to the necklace she always wore, her fingers playing with Raka's medallion--the symbol of peace and strength. "Nina is a good singer," she admitted. The female was one of the best in the clan, taming even the most wild of eagles.

A beat of silence. And then Noa said, his voice drifting from the shadows, "I do not want...Nina."

Mae suppressed a smile, but it quickly faded. "Soona is a good hunter. And an even better friend." And you were born within a sunset.

Another beat of quiet. And then--

"She is...all those things." He paused. "And family."

Mae stilled, not just at his words, but because he had snuck up behind her. She turned, half dreading what she might find. Noa stood at his full height, intimidating in his warrior's garb. He was hardened from war, but his eyes were still soft as he looked at her.

"But I have...already chosen," Noa went on gently. He reached out, his large hand covering hers over the medallion, his eyes bright. "But this woman...this...Nova...must also choose me."

Mae smiled at him, blinking back tears. "She already has."

His lips parted slightly, almost in disbelief. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers, his strong hands finding the back of her neck.

"You choose...this?" he breathed. "You choose...Eagle Clan? Me?"

He had once asked her if apes and humans could live together. Then, she had not known. But now, she could see no other future. Noa and Raka, Soona and Anaya and the others, even the humans that had joined their forces, they were family now.

"Yes," Mae answered. "Our cause is important. What we have built is important." She reached up, cupping his cheek. "You are important. To me."

His hands tightened on her neck, no doubt remembering those words, how he had said them to her on the battlefield when he had begged her to run. She refused. She would not leave him and the others then, and she would not leave them now.

Mae closed her eyes. "Together," she went on, "strong."

"Together," Noa echoed, his voice a promise, "strong."

And as they stood there under the stars, ape and human but somehow twin souls, Mae knew, no matter what the future held, they would face it side by side.

Together.

[kiryoutann]

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

If you enjoy what I do, please consider donating to my Ko-fi :) Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

Everyone has their favorite cousin; for you, it's Sabrina.

A year younger than you, she shines brighter than any star. Whenever Aunt came to visit, the two of you would escape to worlds of your own creation.

In the comfort of your childhood backyard, two pink napkins were laid out, creating the perfect setting for a whimsical tea party. Cookies and toy cups waited on the makeshift tables. She would always wear her little crown that she never forgot to bring, and you would eagerly gather your beloved stuffed animals to join the celebration as additional guests.

Born to a single teenage mother—who, in Mother's eyes, was the height of irresponsibility, “unfit” for motherhood—Sabrina was forever shrouded in your mother's harsh judgment that "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." That she would follow in her mother's footsteps, and it wouldn't be so surprising.

But Sabrina was far from the “troubled child,” grew into a girl warmer than the summer sun, kinder than the gentle grace of spring.

Sabrina was your favorite cousin, the one you wished could maintain the kind of closeness you shared during your youth. However, just as everything good in your life, fate always had a way of destroying it.

When Sabrina’s mother married a kind, steady man after years, it was as if a switch flipped inside Mother. Gone was any goodness she had shown to her sister and Sabrina. Any invitation from Sabrina’s mom was met with excuses—"we were too busy,” “it wasn’t a good time.” Lies, more lies. The real reason was far more simple: it was the bitter, green-eyed jealousy.

Mother always did crave pity and attention from others. But the pity she received from family after Father left wasn’t the kind she wanted.

It symbolizes her failure—now, a single mother struggling when her sister thrived with her loving husband and another baby on the way. And when Sabrina’s stepfather agreed to pay for Sabrina to start taking ballet classes like you, Mother took it as competition.

She had made ballet your personal hell.

While Mother brags about your ballet success, flaunting ribbons and reviews, her pride has a price behind closed doors. Nothing is enough to satisfy her, and the standards she holds for you reach for the impossible. Every competition is followed by a barrage of criticism—you could have placed higher, pointed your toes more.

Third place? "You’re wasting my money, girl." Second place earns you a dismissive "Second only means you’re second best." Even first place yields her saying, "Don’t get a big head over a stupid ribbon. It doesn't mean you're the best; it just means everyone else was worse."

Just as everything is good in your life, fate always has a way of destroying it.

(Or is it your mother?)

The old, naïve part of your mind argues that she's doing this for your own good. After all, diamonds aren’t made without pressure—a familiar refrain she repeats every time you beg her to stop, every time you sob so intensely that you struggle to breathe, feeling like a sacrificial lamb. And every time, she just watches in detached observation, with the slight upturn of her lips like a scientist admiring the results of her own making. Like a woodcarver appreciating the strokes of her knife.

Like a mother to her daughter.

(Because she's my mother, she should want the best for me, right?)

And that old, naïve part of your brain is still alive, apparently, even after you’ve left home and settled miles away. She's your mother; she must have your best interests at heart, even though the harshest words often come from her mouth.

She only has your future in mind, even if sometimes you wonder if she loves you at all.

The subtle thump of the car against the window jolted you out of your memories, and you opened your heavy eyelids, groggily regaining your bearings. You wiped your dry lips, relieved no drool dripping your chin in your nap. Looking out the window, you could see the trees whizzing by. Beside you, Simon's eyes fixed intently on the empty, straight road ahead.

At first, you had firmly convinced yourself that you wouldn't attend Sabrina's wedding, giving Simon excuses of work obligations and other lies to justify your absence. Then, Henri happens: he decreed the entire week mandatory rest for all dancers—prompted by the high stress level, but it's likely a more... specific case of frustration that pushed him over the edge: a certain ballerina who still danced her Black Swan coda like a flailing, drunken mess.

Finding yourself with an open schedule due to the unexpected break, emptiness now filled your time, leaving ample room for unwanted negative feelings—specifically, guilt. You end up reconsidering everything, even taking a Barbie out of your worn cardboard box from the closet. The doll bore the results of your and Sabrina's "artistic" minds, its hair chopped off and skin adorned with Sharpie tattoos. He responds to the doll's rough state with a sarcastic compliment.

That’s how you ended up on a short road trip with Simon. The man’s long leg stepped on the accelerator as the car continued to speed through the English countryside. Glancing up, the tiny skeleton charm swung gently where it hung, its hollow sockets seeming to stare back at you.

“Are we almost there?” you asked Simon.

At your question, he turns to you, eyes lingering for a moment before redirecting his focus on the road. “Reckon another five minutes, and we’ll be pulling up.” 

You look out the window. More trees; the dense forest seems to go on forever. Finally, a break appears, and up ahead looms the sturdy building you assume is the venue listed on the wedding invitation.

It was a manor, with solid brown brick walls and a three-story structure topped by a roof spanning each wing. Double-paneled doors were flanked by columns and arched windows. All around, emerald grass was cut to perfection, not a single blade out of place. In the center stood a two-tiered fountain, adorned with carvings of little angels spouting water into a circular pool. It was a heartwarming, romantic storybook vision.

Tearing your eyes from the scene, you glance over at Simon in amazement. “You certainly seem to know your way without GPS.” You comment.

He gave a noncommittal grunt, one-handedly turning the steering wheel as he maneuvered the car into an open spot behind a row of others. “Got a good sense o' direction, is all.”

As the rumble of the engine fell silent, you unbuckled your seatbelt but lingered in your seat, not quite ready to exit the safety of the vehicle. Through the window, you searched for distractions to ignore the uneasy flips in your stomach.

Simon reached out to reach the dashboard; you moved back slightly to give him more room. He grabbed for his plain black surgical mask, but your curious gaze landed on something else. A pair of black gloves—each finger had a contrasting white skeleton bone. You leaned in without thinking, drawing them out to inspect closely.

“I see you have a thing for skeleton.”

Simon glanced sideways at you as he hooked his mask over his ears. “Keep things interestin’,” he said lightly, voice muffled by the material. He pressed the wire along the bridge to mold it to the shape of his nose.

Pulling his keys from the ignition switch, he pocketed them with a jingle. Simon pushed open the door and stepped out in one smooth movement. He rounded the front of the car, walking to reach for your door. Pulling the handle to assist your exit, you took a deep breath before accepting his offer and slipping out of the vehicle.

A loud gasp pierced the air, followed by rapid footsteps rushing towards you. You turned your head from the sound of your name being called, finding a familiar face staring back at you. Sabrina. Now, a grown woman, changed from the girl you once knew. She stretched out her arms as she pulled you into a tight hug, blonde curls bouncing with her joyful smile.

“You came!” She cried happily, pulling back to look at you. “I’m so glad you made it!”

You returned her smile, your nerves melting away from her presence alone—the magic Sabrina had on everyone. “I wouldn’t miss your big day,” you told her.

She swept her eyes over you from head to toe appraisingly. “And look at you! So beautiful!” she said, and you were sure it was just the dress you had bought two days ago doing its job.

Sabrina shifted her gaze, and you remembered the companion standing patiently beside you. Her eyes swept over him assessingly, mixed with curiosity and wariness. Same old Sabrina. She glances at you briefly, and you know an introduction is in order.

Drawing a breath, you begin, “Sabrina, this is Simon. He, uh…” Your voice faltered, unsure of what label to use to describe him.

Simon reached out with nonchalant confidence to Sabrina. “Pleasure.”

With a hint of skepticism, Sabrina's lips tested the unfamiliar name, "Simon." Her face contorted as if it tasted bitter. She narrowed her eyes as she noted, “Funny, she has never mentioned you before.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and a chill ran down your spine as you replied, “There just… hasn’t been a good time to bring it up.”

You hoped that your explanation would be enough to divert the attention away from Simon, but it seemed futile. Sabrina was infamous for her stubbornness and overly protective nature, especially when it came to those she cared about. Like a tigress, she fixated a calculating gaze on him, as if preparing to pummel him on the spot if he gave her the slightest reason.

“Right,” she mumbled.

Sabrina made a show of dropping the conversation but felt compelled to ask one more question. “Any particular reason for the mask?” Her tone was sharper now, as if daring Simon to answer her.

Hastily, you jumped in. “He’s just feeling under the weather, doesn’t want to spread his cold.” It was a stupid lie, and you knew it, but Sabrina tilted her head in faux consideration.

“How thoughtful.” She commented, suspicion lingering at the edges. Hardening her eyes once more, she gave Simon a subtle threat. “You better take good care of this one.”

“Always.” Simon replied, calm and sure.

Satisfied, Sabrina’s expression switched like flickering sunlight. Clapping her hands in excitement, she announced, “Alright, time to meet Andrew and the others! And I’ll show you to your room!”

With that, she spun on her heels and marched toward the door, her long skirt swirling. Simon and you followed after her at a more sedate pace. Your heart rate slowed in relief that the confrontation was over.

Glancing at Simon, you grimaced, muttering a hushed “Sorry about her.”

Simon says nothing, depriving you of the answer, and you thought this was his way of punishing you for the excessive protectiveness of your cousin. He had driven a considerable distance to accompany you to a wedding of someone he didn’t even know, only to be met with suspicion and unwarranted scrutiny by Sabrina, then tasked with the responsibility of "taking care" of you, despite not even being your boyfriend.

However, in stark contrast to your feelings, Simon seemed to brush off the situation with nonchalance. The slight lift of his black mask and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes clearly indicated a smile hidden beneath it. There was no offense taken.

As you emerged outside the back of the manor, bright sunlight made you blink to adjust. When your blurry eyes cleared, a beautiful scene was laid out before you.

In the wide green field stood a picturesque wedding arch, still bare of the decorations that would soon adorn it. Nearby, tables draped in crisp white linens were set where groups mingled, laughing. Some were busy gossiping and enjoying the buffet; some were occupied in a croquet match.

Sabrina chuckled beside you. “They’re trying to recreate a Bridgerton scene but clearly failing miserably.” At her comment, you smiled too, admiring the carefree warmth pervading the atmosphere.

Gesturing wide, Sabrina said, “Help yourself to the buffet over there, and tea or coffee if you’d like. Oh, and this is Andrew, my fiancé!”

A tall, handsome man approached and pressed a kiss to Sabrina’s cheek. She bloomed with a rosy blush as she beamed up at him. “Babe, this is (Y/N) – you know, the cousin I’ve always told you about, my sister from another mother!” She gushed.

Her sweet description of you stirred a smile in your heart. You turned to Andrew, accepting his handshake. “It's wonderful to meet you. Sabrina talks about you all the time,” he says.

“And this is Simon. He came with (Y/N).”

Andrew reached out to offer a new handshake with Simon. “We're glad to have you both. Please, make yourselves at home.”

Giving a nod, Simon took his hand. “Appreciate the welcome, mate.” He replied.

“Oh my God!”

A high-pitched, sharp voice pierces the air, shattering the calm. Your head pivots, and you see your aunt making her way towards you, her arms stretched out in a gesture much like how Sabrina had welcomed you earlier. The embrace she gives you is as warm and smothering as you remember. Drawing back, she sweeps her teary eyes over you. “Look at you! You’ve grown into such a beauty!”

"Definitely," Sabrina chimes in, seconding her mother.

“It’s lovely to see you too, Auntie Joyce.” You replied, smiling at her.

Joyce pinched your cheek lightly before directing her attention past you, eyes widening in surprise. “And who is this?” she asked, gaze landing on Simon with curiosity. Before you could introduce him, she gasped even louder and glared at you as if she had just realized something big. “Why, he must be your boyfriend!”

Your heart leapt at your aunt's bold insinuation. Joyce didn't bother waiting for your confirmation before enveloping Simon in a tight hug. His shoulders tensed, and he looked confused—his hands hovering awkwardly, unsure of how to reciprocate.

Luckily, the ordeal wasn't prolonged, and your aunt finally retreated, not forgetting, of course, to give his bicep an extra appreciative squeeze. 

“Oh,” she chuckled, “you're quite the fit one, aren't you?”

“Mom, please!” Sabrina groaned, shaking her head at her mother’s antics.

Joyce dismissed her daughter's protests with a playful wave of her hand, saying, "Oh, come now, relax! It's a wedding, not a funeral." She positioned herself between you and Simon, slipping her arms through each of yours to guide you both forward.

“Just look at this place,” Joyce continued, her voice filled with admiration. “Isn’t it stunning? Sabrina had such brilliant ideas, she has a real eye for these things. Just wanted everything perfect for her and Andrew, they deserve the best.”

The older woman stopped in her tracks. She turned to the two of you, looking at you both in turn, hazel eyes filled with sincerity. Grasping each of your hands in hers, she hosted a warm, meaningful smile on her face.

“Mark my words, it’ll be your turn before you know it.”

The well-intentioned tone in your aunt's words was apparent. Auntie Joyce had always been sentimental, wearing her heart on her sleeve and never hesitating to express her thoughts. Yet you couldn't help but think that now, her words seemed misplaced—directed at the wrong people. After all, you and Simon weren't even dating, but rather just two people seeking each other's benefits and comfort. The concept of love seemed incredibly distant, and her trying to cling it to you felt like staining purity with sin.

Instead of imagining your own wedding, you feel panic building in your fingertips. You can hear your heartbeat—the ringing in your ears.

What does Simon think of the implications? He’s only here to accompany you, to make the anxiety easier to handle. But now, it’s as if you’ve brought him here for another purpose—a scheming opportunist trying to trap him with suggestions of commitment he’s never agreed to.

Before your thoughts could spiral further, a voice cuts through the chatter—an awfully familiar one, sending your body into instant shock.

“Joyce, where did you run off to?” It called out, tone softer, but your brain is only capable of recalling the rougher version of it.

Joyce waved at the newcomer, ushering her over. “Your daughter’s here with her boyfriend! Can you believe it? Why didn’t you say?”

Boyfriend. She had said it.

In that moment, horror washed over you. Your pulse quickened, racing like a frightened animal. Palms grew slick with perspiration. The world seems tilting off its axis. Something very sour stirred in your stomach, almost triggering you to retch onto the lush, green grass.

Then came the chuckle, low and mocking—and you're already aware of the person who now stands before you.

Slowly, you lift your gaze to meet the eyes so reminiscent of your own, settled in a face that still bears resemblance to the features you’ve inherited from her. She looks the same as the last time you saw her in San Francisco, except for the absence of anger, now replaced by a smile that graces her red lipsticked lips. It's a familiar expression, the exact one she uses whenever she detects hints of your defiance.

(The ghost haunting my dreams, the monster under the bed.)

The woman who had drilled into you time and again: A man’s heart is truly a wretched, wretched thing! Her vengeance against Dad had warped her into keeping the wound wet and bleeding so that it would not have time to heal, so neither of you forgot.

And here you are, betraying everything she had taught you by daring to bring a man into her world. Something crawled up your throat—heavier this time. This wasn’t panic; this was guilt.

When she saw it written on your face—the shame of your transgression—her eyes gleamed with cruel triumph at catching you out.

Auntie Joyce’s question was almost forgotten, but she never forgot. You watched her lips part, and her gaze changed to the one she always wore when she was watching your every move. Ever the watchful one.

“There just hasn’t been an opportunity yet.” She replied smoothly.

In that moment, with her lie not much different from yours for Sabrina, you realized something – that for all the distance between you, mother and daughter were never truly separate. Her poison still coursed through your veins, flowing in every pump of your blood. Every one of your thoughts and actions was controlled by her, whether she was in front of you or not.

Just as everything is good in your life, fate always has a way of destroying it. No, you disagreed.

It was my mother.

@strawberrygato @aprosiacperson @chipsbuttercream @arrozyfrijoles23

SUPPORT ME THROUGH KO-FI! CHECK MY WRITING COMMISSION. SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS HERE.

[pucksandpower]

IN MY BLOOD

Y/N SENNA x CHARLES LECLERC

Series Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

PART II: Lights Out

Martin Brundle: “A sensational debut for Y/N Senna here in Australia! She’s done it! P3 in her very first Formula 1 race. What a remarkable achievement.”

David Croft: “Absolutely astonishing! Y/N Senna has exceeded all expectations today. The entire paddock is buzzing with excitement. This is a fairytale start to her Formula 1 career.”

Martin Brundle: “Y/N has clearly inherited the racing genes from her father. The Senna name is back on the podium and what a brilliant way to honor her family’s legacy! But Y/N has shown that she’s not just here to ride on her family’s history. She is here to make a name for herself and with a result like this, she’s definitely on the right track.”

David Croft: “You can see the emotion on her face as she steps out of her car. It’s a moment she will remember for the rest of her life. Bugatti must be over the moon with this performance.”

Martin Brundle: “Absolutely. Y/N has demonstrated immense skill and composure out there on the track. To handle the pressure of a debut race and deliver such a strong result is truly remarkable.”

David Croft: “And let’s not forget the competition she was up against. We have seasoned drivers with years of experience and yet Y/N has shown them all what she’s made of.”

Martin Brundle: “From the moment the lights went out, she showcased her raw talent, overtaking several drivers and displaying remarkable racecraft. This is a debut to remember. Y/N Senna has left a lasting impression on the Formula 1 world today.”

David Croft: “The fans here in Melbourne are witnessing history being made as they watch the first woman to stand on the Formula 1 podium! A groundbreaking achievement for women in motorsport. Y/N has announced herself as a force to be reckoned with. The future of Formula 1 is looking brighter with talents like her joining the grid.”

Martin Brundle: “Her performance today sends a powerful message to aspiring female drivers around the world. This is just the beginning of what promises to be an exciting career for Y/N. If this is how she starts, I can’t wait to see what she’ll achieve in the seasons to come.”

David Croft: “It’s been an incredible race and Y/N Senna has stolen the spotlight with that stunning podium finish. The Australian Grand Prix will forever hold a special place in her heart.”

Martin Brundle: “Indeed. It’s moments like these that remind us why we love this sport so much. Y/N Senna has already captured our hearts and imagination. What a way to start the 2013 Formula 1 season!”

y/nsenna

Liked by bugattiracing, michaelschumacher, and 1,583,964 others

y/nsenna Words cannot express the overwhelming emotions I felt today as I made my Formula 1 debut at the Australian Grand Prix. This race is very meaningful for me as it was here that my father tasted victory for the last time. I could not help but feel his spirit guiding me, pushing me forward, and reminding me of the intrepid legacy he left behind.

To all the incredible fans who showed up to support me and to remember my father, I am truly humbled and grateful. Your unwavering love and dedication have touched my soul in ways I cannot fully express. The sea of Brazilian colors and Bugatti blue, the banners, the cheers — it was a beautiful reminder that my father’s memory continues to inspire countless hearts even after all these years.

But today, my goal was more than just reliving my father’s accomplishments. It was about carving my own path, about stepping out of his immense shadow and shining as Y/N Senna in my own right, not just Ayrton Senna’s daughter. It is a delicate balance between honoring the extraordinary legacy he left behind and forging my own story in this exhilarating world of motorsport.

Standing on the podium in my first race was a humbling reflection of countless years of dedication, sacrifices, and faith in myself and my abilities. It represents a significant milestone, a stepping stone towards the future. My aspiration is to have my name celebrated not solely for its connection to my father but for the victories and achievements I earn through my own relentless pursuit of excellence. It is a journey that will require continuous growth, learning, and embracing the challenges that lie ahead.

To my beloved papai, I carry your spirit within me every time I take to the track. Your courage, your passion, and your determination flow through my veins, fueling my every move. You will forever be the inspiration that guides me in this new and remarkable journey. You may not been here physically but I have no doubt that you were my biggest cheerleader today.

A special thank you goes out to my incredible team at Bugatti Racing. Their tireless support, expertise, and persistence have been instrumental in making this dream a reality. From the mechanics who diligently worked on my car, ensuring it was in perfect condition, to the engineers who fine-tuned every aspect of its performance, and to the entire crew who stood by my side, believing in me every step of the way, I am forever grateful. You have all played a vital role in our success today and I couldn’t have asked for a better team.

I would be remiss if I didn’t express my deepest gratitude to my friends and family who have stood by my side through thick and thin. Your strength and presence have been a guiding light. Thank you for instilling in me the courage to chase my dreams fearlessly. Thank you for the countless hours of training, the late-night pep talks, and the relentless belief in my potential. Each one of you has played an integral role in shaping the person I am today and I am eternally grateful for your love and support.

And to the incredible fans who lined the streets and stands and flooded social media with your heartfelt messages, I want to extend a special thank you. Your presence, whether physically or virtually, gave me a priceless boost of energy and added motivation. Your belief in me reminded me of the overflowing love that surrounds me. Each cheer, each encouraging word, and each message of support served as a beacon of strength. Thank you for being there, for believing in me, and for being an important part of this chapter in my life.

With love always,

Y/N 💙

View all 4,172 comments

michaelschumacher Nothing I can write will do justice for just how proud I felt standing in your garage today. There were moments were I could have sworn I was watching your father back on the track once more and others were I saw what Alain and I taught you on full display. But most importantly, everyone watching today largely saw a driving style that is yours and yours alone. This will be your legacy. You take the best parts of us and adapt to make them your own which is the hallmark of any great driver. I am infinitely grateful to call myself your uncle. We love you!

y/nsenna Thank you, Uncle Michael! Having you by my side today made it even more special. I am so lucky to have you and your family in my life. I promise to always strive to be the best version of myself, just like you taught me. I love you all so much

a.prost Incredible drive, Y/N! Ayrton and I shared our last podium together at this same race twenty years ago and watching you out there brought tears to my eyes. Your father would be bursting with pride and I am honored to have been here for this amazing accomplishment and the first of many to come. Never stop shining and remember to always stay true to yourself

y/nsenna Thank you, Uncle Alain! That means the world to me. Knowing that you and my papai shared that special moment makes it especially emotional and I am so happy that you flew down to see it happen

pele Congratulations, Y/N! Your talent and dedication shine through, and your father’s legacy undoubtedly lives on with your incredible performance. Formula 1 is lucky to have you and our beloved Brazil is very fortunate to have you representing us. You are writing a beautiful story

y/nsenna Muito obrigado! It is an honor to have your support and encouragement. I hope to continue making our people proud

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[multi-kpop-fanfics]

half past five high - prologue: when we met in venice (part 1)

pairing: photographer!Joshua x influencer fem!reader

genre: comedy, drama, fluff, strangers to enemies to ????

warnings: alcohol and food consumption, cursing, drama, minor violence and involvement of the police

word count: 2.9k

summary: in the world of fashion, social media and influence, you're one of the game changers. But you never knew that a smaller player in the form of a freelance photographer would be able to change you.

Author's note: hello I am indeed alive and so is this series!! this is also part of the SVTHUB World Tour collab hosted by @svthub!

p.s.1: in case you wonder why the teaser part isn't included in this fic.... it's because I split it in half heheheheh

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2024. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

Fashion Week. Probably one of the most exciting weeks in your life, even more than Christmas.

A week full of runway shows and models dressed in extravagant outfits, interviews with designers from all over the world and huge chances of expanding your network all over the world.

Every single year, you’ve never failed to attend the shows, no matter the city it takes place in and this year is no exception. 

Your recent collaboration with Prada landed you an illustrious invitation to the front rows of their fashion show and you would never miss the chance to visit Venice, given the fact it has been on your travel bucket list for ages.

And here you are, on the grand night, sitting on the front row with Liz, your trusty helper, amongst other celebrities with names brighter than diamonds. Under other circumstances, you would have felt at least intimidated, but knowing that some of these celebrities follow you on social media is a huge ego boost for you.

The show begins and you fall silent, your eyes watching the stunning yet stoic looking models parade on the catwalk, each one of them dressed with the latest designs. You can hear faint whispers from all around you, probably discussing (or criticizing) about the clothes.

Fucking stuck up idiots, you think. A bit ironic, but it doesn’t stop you from making this thought.

Nevertheless, you decide to stop bothering with the rest of the guests and focus your sights on the runway, keeping mental notes of the sleek designs, occasionally whipping out your phone to keep photos and videos of the event.

A few hours later, you enjoy a glass of pink champagne, casually walking through the halls of Centro Congressi of San Servolo. Your ears catch conversations made in multiple languages, Italian being the dominant one - you are in Italy, after all.

“I know we’ve been in fashion shows before, but something about Venice feels so….classy.” Liz looks around the hall with curious eyes.

“Keep your eyes peeled, darling, it will be a great chance for you to learn even more.” You send her a wink.

“Y-Yes, of course, Miss!” 

“Jesus Christ, you can just call me by my name, it’s not like we’re that apart in terms of age!”

“I- No, I never even thought of that!” The blond girl gestures apologetically, “It’s purely out of respect and courtesy.”

“How did I get so lucky with you?” You pat her head gently, still holding your glass in your hand, “Don’t worry too much though - You can always help yourself to a glass of champagne.”

Liz gives you a hearty smile, but that smile turns into a scared expression as you’re about to turn around to walk away, not noticing the incoming man behind you.

“Miss Y/N, watch out-”

You let out a scream in the middle of the hall, as you bump into the unknown man and his glass of champagne crashes and spills all over your Prada outfit, drenching the expensive fabrics.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry-” The man apologizes honestly, “Wait, let me help-”

“Don’t you fucking dare, you asshole!” You snap at him, “Are you even aware of how expensive my outfit is?!”

“I do, that’s why I wish to help!” 

“Yeah, I can see how much you’re helping right now!”

“Miss Y/N, please, let’s not cause a scene!” Liz begs you to stop yelling, as she tries to calm you down.

“Maybe you should listen to your friend,” he comments, “She’s clearly more composed than you.”

“What did you say?” You narrow your eyes at the infuriatingly handsome man.

“Miss Y/N, let’s just g-”

With a swift motion, you splash your remaining champagne over his face and throw the glass on the marbled ground, the loud noise making more heads turn towards you.

“If you knew where the fuck you were going, none of this would have happened, asshole!” You turn on your heel angrily and Liz follows right behind, bowing repeatedly, as a form of apology.

The young man stands in the middle of the hall like a frozen pole, unable to form a sentence. He takes a few looks around and notices lots of other guests looking at him with mockery and disdain written all over their faces. He’s certain that the whole incident will make the tour of the online world until the end of the night and the tour of the TV morning gossip shows until the next day arrives.

A waiter approaches the man and wordlessly hands him a cotton napkin, the latter accepting it with a nod of his head to clean whatever he could from his ruined outfit.

"Anything else I can do to help you, sir?"

"Nothing, I'm afraid," He sighs in defeat, "but thank you nonetheless."

The next morning finds you in your hotel room, angrily watching the news tabloids about the champagne incident with two eye patches on your under eye area and a pitch black coffee in your hand.

"Preposterous. Utterly preposterous!" You close the TV and throw the remote controller on the bed.

"Miss Y/N, I'm really sorry for what happened," Liz hangs her head in shame, "If only I had noticed him coming towards you sooner-"

"If you feel so bad for everything that happened last night and you want to prove that you're not useless, find me that man's info!" 

“I already did that last night, Miss.”

“Then why didn’t you say so?!”

“You were asleep, Miss!” Liz defends herself. “It's rude to wake up someone in the middle of their sleep.”

“What’s the point of not ruining my sleep, if my career is falling apart within mere moments?!” You yell at her.

“I’m sorry! I’m just trying my best to support you, but yelling at me won’t help at all!” Liz retaliates and you nearly gasp from her newfound resolve.

You let out a deep sigh and sit on the bed, crossing your legs.

“You’re right. You’re actually the only person that has done nothing wrong.” You rub your temples with your fingers. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s okay, I understand your frustration.” Liz responds with a small smile, “If you still want to discuss about that gentleman’s info-”

“Gentleman?! He ruined my clothes!”

“I know! But he still tried to help-”

“Just give me his info, Liz.”

She hands over her tablet to you and your fingers start swiping on the screen, browsing through the notes Liz has kept.

“Joshua Hong, freelance photographer? Eh, I expected more.” You grimace in disappointment.

“I think he’s very talented. He’s definitely not as pompous as other photographers who have made a name for themselves.”

“Whose side are you on again?”

“Yours! I’m just….sharing my first impression of him…”

“You find him charming, don’t you?” You raise your eyebrow at her.

“But he is!”

You stare at the tablet screen, your eyes fixated on the profile picture of his Instagram account.

His facial features are so balanced and his skin is so perfect and you know it's not a filtered photo - with your experience, you know when a photo on social media is filtered, and this one is very much real.

“Yeah. In a very infuriating way.”

"Did he really bother you that much?"

"Well duh!" 

"It was still an accident-"

"That made me the center of all social media gossip and drama!"

You pause right after finishing your sentence, the gears in your head spinning faster than the wheels of a Ferrari.

"Um, Miss Y/N?"

"Liz, I will need your help."

"Of course, but what for?"

A Cheshire cat grin spreads on your lips.

"Why, addressing the situation of course."

"You plan on releasing a statement?"

"Of course. Can't let the whole drama unattended, right?" You take a sip from your coffee.

"Miss, are you sure about this?"

"One hundred percent. I promise, it won't take more than ten minutes. Then we can go get a proper breakfast by the pool."

“Seriously, she just dropped a whole glass on you because you accidentally dropped a glass on her?”

“Crazy, I know,” Joshua sighs, “and because of that, my face is all over the paparazzi news!”

“At least you’re looking good in front of the camera!”

“Cheol, can you please be serious about this? My career is hanging by a thread!”

“It was just a petty dispute, people will forget about it in a few days,” Seungcheol replies calmly, “You just got a champagne bath, you weren’t caught by the police for drug trafficking.”

“Well, if you put it that way, it doesn’t sound as bad.”

“See? You just need to be chill about it. It’s not the end of the world.”

“But still, she sounded so fucking entitled, like?”

“Well, she’s a top class influencer, what did you expect?”

“She’s a what now?”

“Really now, Josh?” Seungcheol sighs in disappointment.

"I'm a photographer, not someone who sells fairytales and Pinterest-related stuff on social media." Joshua scoffs.

"It still doesn't change the fact that you live under a rock."

"I was literally invited to Fashion Week, fuck you Cheol."

"Either way, I suggest you look into her social media, just to be prepared."

"Fine, whatever - Wait, prepared for what?"

"For any possible scenario!"

"You said that it wasn't something serious not too long ago!"

"I did. But it's always wise to have a backup plan in case things go south."

"That last bit felt really ominous…."

"You can always not pay attention to me!"

"Don't you have a job to do?"

"I am my own boss, in case you're forgetting." Seungcheol snickers.

"You remind me with every chance you get…" Joshua groans.

"I love you too, Josh. Gotta go now, buddy, it was nice talking to you."

"Good luck out there, Cheol."

"Could say the same for ya."

Joshua ends the call and drops his phone on the mattress, deciding to get dressed and visit the hotel restaurant for some brunch.

His phone rings again, but it's multiple notifications this time.

"Someone's impatient…" He mutters to himself as he picks up his phone again.

seungcheol: I fear I might have jinxed your downfall

seungcheol: please stay calm while you're reading the next screenshot

seungcheol has sent a photo.

Joshua opens the photo and carefully reads the white text on the black background, the blood in his body steadily rushing to his head.

Hello, this is Y/N. I am writing this post to address the situation that occured last night in San Servolo. 

First of all, I am deeply sorry for the trouble I caused to the rest of the guests and the organizers of the event, as it does not reflect the person I truly am. However, I must say that major damages occurred due to mister Joshua Hong's carelessness, since the outfit I donned was custom made by the house of Prada.

I am willing to put this unfortunate incident to rest, as long as the perpetrator is also willing to compensate for the damages made.

Once again, I am sorry for the trouble I caused. 

"What the fuck is this?!" Joshua yells in the middle of his room and rapidly types back to Seungcheol.

joshua: IS SHE FUCKING SERIOUS

joshua: COMPENSATION? SHE DELIBERATELY RUINED MY CLOTHES TOO

seungcheol: josh calm down for Christ's sake

joshua: how am I supposed to calm down after this??

joshua: bitch took her own narrative and ran with it

joshua: bet you this is already circling around the gossip tabloids

seungcheol: do you want me to contact my lawyer and see what we can do?

joshua: no not yet

joshua: desperate times call for desperate measures

seungcheol: joshua please don't

Joshua chooses to ignore his friend's texts and reaches out for the telephone on his nighstand, in order to call the reception.

He knows Prada has reserved rooms for all the ambassadors in this hotel, so you must be staying in the same hotel as him.

"Hotel Baglioni de Luna, how may I help you?"

"Good morning, this is Joshua Hong."

"Oh, hello sir Hong! What can I do for you?"

"If it is possible, could you perhaps tell me if miss…Y/N L/N is present in her room?"

"She called not too long ago to ask about the morning buffet. I supposed she must be taking breakfast."

"Thank you kindly for your help." 

"Have a good morning, sir Hong."

Definitely not good, but might as well make it hell for her, Joshua thinks as he ends the call. 

He gets up and opens his closet, taking out a pair of jeans and a linen shirt, quickly changing into them. He slips on his shoes and grabs his phone, room key and wallet before he leaves.

"Let's see what you will do now, miss Y/N."

If Satan had an only child, you would probably be the one.

You're happily enjoying your breakfast together with Liz right next to the pool, humming a happy tune as you take a bite from your cookie.

"Is it really possible to be so happy from one person's misery?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, darling." You reply with a smile on your face.

Liz sighs deeply and resumes eating her breakfast.

"There you are, you poisonous bitch!"

The loud voice nearly makes the girl jump from her seat, but you remain unfazed, until Joshua is stomping his way to your table, slamming his phone on the surface.

"What do you think you're doing?" You look at him with narrowed eyes.

"I should be asking you that question!" He shoves the phone in your face with your statement on it, "Compensation? Contacting the company?! Bitch, we're ambassadors of the same brand!"

"Yet you were the first one to ruin my outfit!" You angrily get up from your seat.

"And you were the one who ruined mine on purpose!" Joshua retaliates.

"Both of you, please stop causing a scene again, everyone is looking!" Liz tries to separate the two of you, noticing how everyone is staring at you and Joshua, just like last night.

"Perhaps I should release a statement as well and sue you for defamation - At least I'm kind enough to warn you beforehand." He spits with a venomous tone.

"Oh, because that would be so beneficial to someone who is as insignificant as you. Freelance photographer, my ass. You're just another paparazzi who wants the few minutes of fame!" 

Your words make Joshua furious beyond the point of return and he picks up your coffee cup, splashing it all over you in the same manner you threw champagne on him.

"There, now we're even, you dramatic bitch."

"Mister Hong!" Liz yells at him, "What is wrong with you?!"

You grit your teeth and raise your right hand, immediately slapping him across the face with full force, making sure it left a handprint on his face.

"You are the worst person I've ever met in my life!"

"I could say the same about you!"

Your anger consumes you and you physically lunge yourself at him, pulling him by the shirt to tackle him. Unfortunately for you, he's much stronger than you and he manages to retain his balance, giving him an opening to push you against the table and knock over some of the plates.

"You asshole!" You yell and get back on your feet, pushing Joshua away. This time, he actually loses his balance and falls into the pool.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" He yells at you as he tries to get out of the pool.

"You're the one who made me do it in the first place!"

Liz stands at the sidelines, watching the scene unfold with horror and she runs to one of the waiters without hesitation.

"Call the hotel security, or the police! Just call someone, please!"

The waiter nods and rushes to the mini bar, shortly asking the staff to alert the security.

Only a couple of minutes later, two men of the hotel security barge through the glass doors and make their way to the pool, where two more waiters are trying to separate you from Joshua.

"Stop right there!" They yell and apprehend the both of you, waving at the waiters to stand aside.

"Let me go! He's the one who started it!" You yell out loud.

"You can say that to the police when they arrive," the other man informs you, "you've already caused a great deal of discomfort to the rest of the guests and damages to the area."

"But-"

"Oh, just shut up already!" Joshua curses at you again.

"I don't remember asking for your opinion, asshole!"

The security have to forcefully bring you down to the ground level of the hotel, where two police cars are parked outside the entrance. 

"One of your staff told us about the situation, that's why we brought two vehicles - we can't suffer damages either." The police officer explains as he handcuffs you and Joshua separately, leading you towards the cars.

"Wait!" Liz runs outside, "Let me go with her!"

"We cannot allow that, Miss. You might be called in later by the officers for a testimony, but that's all you can do."

"Liz!" You shout from inside the car.

"Yes ma'am?!"

"Call my lawyer and tell her everything!"

"Will do!" She shouts back and watches the officers return in the vehicles, taking you and Joshua away.

She looks behind her, multiple guests and hotel staff discussing with disapproval written all over their faces. It's guaranteed that photos and videos will already circulate the Internet and the damage control will be insanely hard to complete.

"Lord give me the strength to pull through this."