#I didn’t choose it but it chose me and won’t let go

[bravo4iscool]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write a friends to lovers x reader for any of the 141 (you get to choose) where the reader is plus size and she avoids them touching her? Because she knows she's plus size and doesn't think this super attractive soldier would ever even like her, much less her body, and every time she is touched she kinda pulls away, but our soldiers are so down bad for her? 👀 And ultimately maybe she gets pulled onto a lap and immediately tries to get off? Smut or no smut, it's up to you!

Thank you lovely!! 💞💞

i like this. i like this very very much hehehehe. i chose simon (i always chose him, i really have to change that😭) (i hope you're okay with that tho. it's my personal headcanon that that man is a chubby chaser by heart lol).

as someone who's also plus-size i adore requests like this so much! i hope i could write it the way you imagined it :)

also, sorry this took me so long😭. i had a bit of a slump lol (also, please give me feedback on the smut part, i never really write smut🥲 and im a virgin lmao)

smut, plus-size!reader, unprotected sex, p in v, fem!reader, not proof-read!

(masterlist | join my tag list!)

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

tag list - @yazt09 @blackhawkfanatic @bumblebeesfromvenus

"don't touch me simon," you mumble as you push his hands away. "you know i don't like that..." you shuffle away from him and clutch the little notepad you scribble down your customers orders.

he frowns—as always—and gives you a small smile. “‘m sorry lovie. i forgot.”

you nod and straighten your back. “your usual?” you ask, already knowing that he’ll answer with yes. and he does. then you look at the rest of the team, one eyebrow raised. it was rare that they took something else than their usual.

“positive,” price replies, as well as gaz.

“i’ll take whatever ye gimme,” johnny winks and you feel yourself blush. simon just rolls his eyes. he’s getting fed up with his best friend already.

you give johnny a honest smile and scribble something down. “10 minutes and i will be back with your drinks,” you tell them, turning to leave.

once you were out of reach johnny elbowed simon into the side, a devilish smirk on his face. “have ye told ye lassie that ye like her?” he wants to know, wiggling with his eyebrows.

“zip it johnny,” simon only grumbles, starting to bounce his knee. “i ain’t tellin’er nothin’.”

“but why? ye clearly like her.” johnny frowns. if he were in simon’s position he would’ve shot his shot weeks, if not months ago. you were—you were perfection. those curves, those hips and—god forbid—your stomach.

you were hypnotising and you didn’t even know it. johnny didn’t understand how simon could just sit and watch you. he would’ve done anything to get a taste of you, or even just a glance.

“she ain’t interested n’me johnny,” simon sighs after a moment of silence. “i won’t destroy what we have over my stupid feelings.” and with that the debate was over for simon.

before johnny could answer you return with the drinks, placing them down onto the table. “here ya go,” you smile.

“thanks lassie,” johnny grins, patting your hand. you immediately pull away.

you try to overplay it. “no problem. let me know if you need anything else.” you leave with hurried steps, praying you wouldn’t encounter touch again this evening.

-

‘fuck’ you thought when you realize: all seats were taken. this was not good, nope. you just wanted to turn around and leave without anyone taking a notice of you.

but then soap notices you, “ey lassie. com’ere!” he smiles and waves at you. with hesitant steps you walk in his and simon’s direction. giving a apologetic look to the other people. this was a movie night, not some coffee gossip round. it was rare that you were on base and on most occasions you tried to avoid it but johnny and gaz practically begged you to come so you had no other chance than to say yes.

a few moments later you stood in front of the group of men—your friends—unsure what to do. were you just gonna sit on the ground or… before you can even finish that thought a arm wraps around your waist and someone pulls you into their lap. you can‘t suppress a small yelp, your eyes blow wide.

“‘s j‘st me,“ simon whispers into your ear, sending a cold shiver down your spine. you wanted to leave. now.

“simon,“ you hiss. “let me go. i‘m way too heavy for you—“

but instead of following your request his arm around your waist only tightens. “i‘m a big guy. i can handle it,“ he only says in a low voice. with that the topic was done for him and you knew arguing wouldn‘t make sense. once simon was determined about something there was no way to chance his mind.

so, you sat in his lap the whole movie, squirming from time to time; afraid you were too heavy for him, afraid that you would hurt him in any way. meanwhile, his hands were caressing our waist, pulling you closer to him so you‘d stop wiggling around. if you wouldn‘t stop he‘d some have a problem…

beside simon johnny was throwing side glances at him, smirking when he noticed the struggles his best friend was having. he wished he was in that position… if only he‘d been a tad faster than simon you‘d sit in his lap right now and he knew he wouldn‘t be the same after than.

“y‘alright lassie?“ johnny asks as soon as the movie is over and the lights got turned on. your face was red and your pupils blown wide. you only manage a nod, trying your best to get off simon‘s lap as normal—and fast—as possible.

“i think—i think i‘ll go home now. i have work tomorrow morning,“ you smile, still embarrassed. “i hope i‘ll see you tomorrow or are you shipping out?“

“not for at least two weeks,“ simon answers and you nod and turn to leave but then he gets up too and you stop in your tracks. you raise your eyebrow at him and he shrugs. “‘m gonna get ya home,“ he simply says and you nod again.

“alright. see you soon guys,“ you wave your goodbyes to gaz and johnny.

once you and simon where out of reach johnny started to smirk. “ohhhh, he‘s tryna get laid,“ he laughs, glancing at gaz beside him.

“100%“ the other man agrees, hiding his laughter behind his hand. “the question is if she‘s understanding all the signs…“

-

you unlock your door, simon towering over you from behind, his presence like a burning sensation you couldn‘t seem to ignore. “and we‘re there,“ you chuckle, stepping aside. “you can, uh, leave now,“ you tell him but instead of turning around he takes a step inside your flat, closing the door behind him.

“what if i don‘t want to?“ he asks, slowly coming closer to you. “what…if i want to spend the night with you, mh?“ he‘s looking down at you, his hand itching towards to your face.

you swallow, trying to hold his gaze; it seemed impossible. “why would you want that?“ you want to know, unable to phantom any reason he—out of all men—would want to spend a night with you.

he smiles at your question and lowers his head. “because i like you,“ is his answer before he starts to trails kisses down your throat. your breath gets caught and your hands rush to grip his arms. what was happening right now? this must be a dream…

"if you want t'stop, tell me," he mumbles against your neck, slowly pushing you back until your back hits your drawer. you swallow but turn your head to give him more space. it just felt so good.

your breath hitches when he finds your weak spot. "i don't want to stop," you manage to say and you feel him smirk against your skin.

he scoops you up into his arms and you yelp. "that was what i wanted t'hear," he says and seconds later his lips collide with yours as he makes his way to your bedroom. you feel like a feather in his arms, so light and free.

"been wantin' t'do this f'r a long time," simon breathes against your lips when he gently drops you down onto your bed and he pulls back. "y'look so beautiful..." his eyes admire you and you start to blush. you weren't used to being appreciated like that. especially not by men like simon.

he sits up, kneeling in front of you. then he pulls off his shirt in a smooth motion, tossing it aside. your eyes widen and you swallow again. oh steaming jesus, he looked better than you thought–

and suddenly you get aware of your looks again. you try to hide behind your arms as fast as possible, not wanting simon to see but he beats you to it. with gentle hands he grabs your wrists and pulls them away. "why're you doing that, mh?" he wants to know and you avert your gaze.

"i...don't know..." you mumble. "i just–"

he cuts you off before you can finish, "y'think i don't find ya attractive, do ya?" your blush is answer enough and he bents down. "you're the most attractive woman i've ever laid m'eyes upon..." he tells you in a whisper, placing kisses upon your face.

"you don't–"

"oh, i mean it. with every fiber of my being," he, again, cuts you off, not wanting you to doubt his attraction to you. you were beautiful, etheral even, and he didn't know how other men didn't see it. "let me worship you," he pleads, kissing your lips.

he pulls slightly back again and looks in your eyes. he wanted your consent before continung. if you'd say no, he'd stop. if you'd say yes, he would ravish you.

you hesitate for a second before you drag him back down by his neck and press a kiss to his lips. "please," you choke out, looking at him with hooded eyes.

he smiles, his hands slipping beneath your shirt, pushing it upwards. "your wish is my command love." with gentle hands he starts to undress you, trailing kisses all over your body. he wanted to you to feel good about yourself, to feel attractive.

and with every passing moment he was itching down towards your core, smirking when he feels you twitching and shuddering.

“si—simon,” you moan when his lips ghost over your clothed cunt.

he does it again, looking up at you through hooded eyes. “shhhh,” he coos, his tumb caressing your thigh. “b’good f’r me, will ya?” he was straining himself to not rip your clothes off when he started undressing you piece by piece. he wanted to cherish you, burn the image of you sprawled across your bed—naked—into his mind. who knew when he’d be able to see you like that again?

it felt like a haze, the way he was undressing and worshipping your body, his eyes rarely leaving yours. he wanted to you feel seen, to feel lusted after because that was exactly what he was doing.

he came face to face with you again, his lips finding yours while his hand cupped your pussy. your breath hitched. “so ready for me,” he chuckles, his tumb carefully starting to stimulate your clit.

a whine escapes you when he pulls his hand back after a few moments and he can’t suppress a smirk. “oh, ya needy, aren’t ya?” you only manage a nod, your mouth falling open when you feel him slipping one finger inside. “gon’ work ya well open first, love,” he tells you before he starts to litter you with kisses again.

with a steady rhythm he pumps his finger in and out of you, trying to pay attention to your body’s reaction as best as possible. he wanted to make this about you and you only.

he was sucking bruises onto your skin while moans dripped past your lips. oh, he felt like he was in heaven. “keep makin’ them sounds f’r me love,” he mumbles as he starts to hump your bed. his dick was painfully hard by now and he needed to feel some relief.

you gasp and writhe and whine, grabbing his arm to feel something between your hands. “please simon,” you cry out with your back arching off the mattress. “i wanna—“ he shuts you up with a kiss.

“i know what ya want.” and exactly that is the moment your orgasm ripples through you. a dragged out moan leaves your mouth and your fingernails bore into the flesh of his arms. “j’st like that,” simon coos, carefully removing his hand from your cunt.

you gasp for air as you come down from your high, still not 100% sure if this was real; because it didn’t feel like it. you release simon’s arms from your grip, swallowing when you saw the marks you left.

in the meanwhile simon fully undressed himself, his painfully hard cock finally getting set free. he looked at you and a smirk tugged at his lips when he noticed you staring. he tugged at his cock before he crawled back onto the bed to hover about you.

you look up at him, unsure of what to do. it’s been probably years since you’ve last had sex. it wasn’t that much of a regular thing in your life.

“ya ready?” he asks you after he connects your lips in a gentle kiss. you nod and he carefully starts to open your legs further. “i’ll be gentle, yea?”

simon’s hands caress your thighs before he aligns his cock with your entrance and trains his eyes on you as he starts to push himself inside.

your mouth falls open and your hands find their way back to grip onto his arms. a tear slips past your eye and a loud moan drags past your lips. “simon—oh my god!”

he grunts, doing his best to hold himself back from restlessly pounding into you. he didn’t want to hurt you. “no god ‘ere love. only me.” he bends down to kiss you and one of his hands starts to stimulate your clit again.

when he fully bottomed out it took all of his self control to not come immediately. he’s dreamed of this for months, years even and not it was finally happening.

“takin’ me s’good,” simon whispers in your ear, slowly pulling his hips back, making you whine before he pushes them forward again, pulling another moan out of you. “this pussy was made for me, huh.” a cocky grin was on his face.

you nod and babble, too overwhelmed by that pleasure that was so unknown to you. “wanna be good for you,” you cry, clutching his arm with your hands. “please simon.”

he starts to trail kisses down your throat while he keeps his thrusts in a steady rhythm. he felt his orgasm building but he wouldn’t come before you didn’t. this wasn’t about him and his pleasure, this was about you.

you moan, “oh—oh—“ when you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. “i’m gonna come simon,” your voice trembles.

“i know,” he grits out as he fastens his thrusts and keeps stimulation your clit. the way you were clenching around him had him seeing stars. you were so close.

and then he pushes you over the cliff, your orgasm rippling through you with a force you didn’t know as possible. your vision fades to black and your mouth falls open as simon fucks you through your orgasm.

he’s trying his best to keep his composure when you clench around him, almost milking him but he pushes through, managing a couple sloppy thrusts before he comes with a deep moan, fully burying himself inside you.

his eyes are closed as he tries to take a deep breath, a faint ‘i love you’ leaving his lips.

(i’m sorry the end is like that. i’m terrible at endings🧍🏼. i didn’t know how to properly cut this😭)

#writing #ao3 #fanfiction #archive of our own #story writing #call of duty #simon riley #cod #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x plus size!reader #simon riley x chubby!reader #simon ghost riley x plus size!reader #simon ghost riley x chubby!reader #ghost x plus size reader #ghost x chubby!reader

[fawndlyvenus]

Do you ever stop and think about Kinn, Porsche, and Big in a relationship, and how their dynamic works, and how they would just absolutely love and care for each other so much and-*is dragged by my collar from the room*

#KinnPorscheBig #Listen I can’t help the brain rot #I didn’t choose it but it chose me and won’t let go #kinnporsche the series

[splashtailstar]

I can recite the entire fire scene from memory

And by that, I mean I literally recite it out loud as I drive to school

#sq: ashfur‚ get out of the way. let them get out. as: brambleclaw isn't here to look after them now. lb: what have you done with my father? #as: why would i waste my time with brambleclaw? sq: your quarrel with brambleclaw has to stop. too many moons have passed. you have to — #accept i’m brambleclaw’s mate‚ not yours. you can’t keep trying to punish brambleclaw for something that was always meant to be. as: i have #no quarrel with brambleclaw. lb: that’s not how it looks to me. as: i couldn’t care less about brambleclaw. it’s not his fault he feel for #a faithless she-cat. i know you think i’ve never forgiven brambleclaw for stealing you from me‚ but you’re wrong and so is every other cat #who thinks so. my quarrel is with you‚ squirrelflight! it always has been. sq: all of this happened moons ago. ashfur‚ i had no idea you — #were still upset. as: 'upset?' i’m not 'upset'. you have no idea how much pain i’m in. it’s like being cut open every day‚ bleeding onto — #the stones. i can’t understand how any of you failed to see the blood… … stay there! i can’t believe you didn’t know how much pain you — #caused me. you are the blind one‚ not jayfeather. who do you think sent firestar the message to go down to the lake‚ where the fox trap was #i wanted him to die–to take your father away so you’d know the real meaning of pain. hl: he tried to kill 'firestar?' he’s mad! lb: i’m — #going to fight him. hl: no‚ you can’t! he’ll just push you into the fire! as: brambleclaw saved firestar then. but he’s not here now. he’s #not‚ but your kids are. sq: enough ashfur. these young cats have done nothing to harm you. do what you like with me‚ but let them out of — #the fire. as: you don’t understand. you tore my heart out when you choose brambleclaw over me. anything i did to you would never hurt as — #much. but your kits–if you watch them die‚ you’ll know the pain i felt. sq: kill them then. you won’t hurry me that way. if you really want #to hurt me‚ you’ll have to find a better way than that. they are not my kits. #*hurt #(also with the “my quarrel is with 'you'‚ squirrelfight”‚ i meant to italicize the word 'you') #the power of special interests #*chose #harbor's posts

[cannellaeluce]

one thing that I can’t let go of re: the locked tomb series is the statement I think it makes about identity and permanence and love. Like, I guess we all finished gideon the ninth being in love with gideon’s pov and with harrow as the person she is in relation to gideon. Then we landed in harrow the ninth and we were robbed of both, and I’m sure we all felt like we lost something, and we thought the end goal would be to get to the point where we would go back to having the thing that we lost: gideon’s vibrant voice and harrow’s whole psyche. and then we landed in nona the ninth and... 

I don’t know for ya’ll, but that’s when something in me shifted. phyrra was in the body of her most beloved adept and got to live with her longing for him and for wake redefining her identity; we didn’t care for her in the previous books, but we got to care for her now, and she was worth it. camilla’s body was both hers and palamedes’ and the coronation of their arc wasn’t to go back to how they were when we first learned to love them; it was to let go of both their individualities to become a whole new person, and we readers - just as nona - got to experience the pang at understanding that we were to let go of our concept of camilla and palamedes as individuals, while having to accept that that was the truest form they both could possibly achieve, that they felt no loss whatsoever, that what we perceived as loss was in fact their triumph. gideon - our beloved gideon - came back and she wore another name and we got to love her again, but names matter in this universe, and we had to deal with the pang of knowing that we could love her all the same, but she was - in fact - not the same at all, and when she antagonised our new main characters we found out in surprise that we resented her for it, that our loyalties had partially shifted. and then...

and then there was nona. nona in the body of harrow, who got to be loved as a person separated from harrow because bodies are transient and the soul is what matters. nona who was born to disappear in mere months, something the people around her knew well and which didn’t prevent any of them from getting to know her as a fully fleshed individual and to learn to love her all the same. nona whom we readers too understood at one point that was a character built to fade away. we could have decided not to invest in her, then. we could have decided to be annoyed at not finding harrow in her, at not finding gideon in her. but we didn’t. well, I didn’t. I understood she was born to die, and I chose to love her all the same. because isn’t it how it is? isn’t this how love is? we are mortal things who fall for mortal things knowing full well they won’t last. but we choose to love all the same. the impermanence of things isn’t a flaw ruining what should have been perfect; it is the very essence of things. we got to love nona even though she wouldn’t last. we got to love nona because she wouldn’t last. that’s all fine, in the end, because we got to love someone, and you can’t take loved away.

#the locked tomb #nona the ninth #tamsyn muir #tlt #harrowhark nonagesimus #gideon nav #phyrra dve #camilla hect #palamedes sextus #you can't take loved away #life is too short and love is too long #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #and the extenuating wait for #alecto the ninth

[wisteriaw0rld]

-ˋˏ ༻confessions༺ ˎˊ-

||characters: Tanjiro, Zenitsu, Inosuke, Genya, Muichiro, (confessing: separately)

||additional tags: Fluff, Gn! Reader, Headcanons + short oneshot

“do you think we’ll be in love forever? Do you think we’ll be in love?” -Lana Del Rey

˚ʚKamado Tanjiroɞ˚

♡The two of you are the definition of: Fell first and fell harder, with him falling harder without a doubt.

♡Tanjiro is most definitely the type to wait for a romantic moment to come, and if the moment he’s looking for is taking too long to come, he’ll set up his own romance moment.

♡When confessing he’s 100% the more nervous type instead of the confident type. It’s not that he’ll overthink little details, it’s that he’s afraid if you were to reject him, his friendship with you would be ruined completely

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘

“Tanjiro, When can I open my eyes?” You questioned impatiently, one of your hands hovering over your eyes while the other was holding Tanjiros gentle hand.

A small smile appeared on the boys lips as he began slowing his pace before halting, you doing the same. “You can open them, now.” He finally replied, letting go of your hand.

The moment you did open your eyes, you saw a great view of the stars as it was night time. He took you to the top of a hill, a small blanket on the floor at the edge of the hill for both of you to sit comfortably. You already liked him although you did know better than to get your hopes up.

When it comes to talking to you in general, he isn’t nervous at all. But when it comes to the actual confessing part, he becomes nervous. Really nervous.

“Y/n, out of all the people I’ve met so far on my journey, you’ve treated me the kindest and I love you more than anything.” He’ll definitely say it too fast so he’ll have to repeat himself. But when he repeats himself slowly, he definitely stutters more.

˚ʚAgatsuma Zenitsuɞ˚

♡He’s impatient when it comes to confessing. And he can’t at all wait for a perfect moment.

♡And with the way he acts and randomly out of nowhere tells you to marry him, when he actually confesses, you think it’s another one of his attempts to get out of the demon slayer corps.

♡So it’s needless to say you thought his confession wasn’t serious. Especially with when he chose to confess.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ 

Being assigned missions with Zenitsu was something you eventually got used to. But getting assigned missions with him without Inosuke or Tanjiro was new.

Usually, Zenitsu would choose to cling onto Tanjiro’s arm. Although with Tanjiro at the Swordsmith village, he chose to cling to you instead. Which you didn’t exactly mind.

You held the handle of your Katana closely as you heard a demon approaching. With Zenitsu’s hearing, he of course heard the demon just as you did. 

And fearful as he always is, he chose to confess the very moment the demon died in the middle of the town you two were in.

“Y/N! I THOUGHT I WAS GONNA DIE! YOU SAVED ME! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.” He clung onto you in a hug when in reality, he had fallen asleep last moment and beheaded the demon, waking up right after.

When he realized you though the confession he made wasn’t serious, he had to explain again in a less fearful tone while still keeping you in a tight hug.

˚ʚHashibira Inosukeɞ˚

♡When confessing, He sounds completely loud and confident as he always is. Although on the inside he’s nervous. But It’s hard to see.

♡With any means necessary, He won’t let you see that he’s nervous. It’s not like you can tell so in your eyes, it doesn’t really matter too much.

♡He doesn’t really know when a romantic moment is. But he’s also not the type to randomly rush in like Zenitsu whenever he see’s a girl.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ 

You sat on the engawa of the butterfly mansion, still in the uniform you were given when you had first arrived. You were completely bored out of your mind and you couldn’t exactly sleep. You weren’t sleepy and you had too many thoughts running through your head.

Suddenly, a small creak from the wooden floor was heard, making you turn over quickly, only to see Inosuke walking towards you, his boar mask in his hands instead of on his head.

Upon realizing it was just him, you stopped being tense, your body turning the other way once more. Until Inosuke took a seat next to you, making you turn your attention to him again.

Just as you were about to turn your attention back to the moon again, you watched as one of the Onigiri’s in Inosuke’s hands got tossed onto your lap.

“You should be glad I like you enough to share.” He stated before turning the other way while munching on his own Onigiri. If you couldn’t get the hint then he’ll clarify more loudly the next morning.

˚ʚShinazugawa Genyaɞ˚

♡Definitely acts all tough and prideful when confessing but his face is burning and completely red while attempting to make eye contact but failing to do so.

♡He’s really nervous on the inside and the most He can do for a romantic moment is pick some flowers in a nearby field and give them to you. If he does anything more than that, he fears that something will co completely wrong.

♡If you were doing something before he was about to confess, he’ll politely drag you off to a more secluded area before giving you the flowers.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ 

Your own face was a light shade of red but you couldn’t exactly be embarrassed as Genya’s face was worse, practically shoving the small but nice colored flowers into your own hands.

“Genya, are you okay?” You questioned, gently taking hold of your favorite colored flowers. You stared at him, his gaze averted somewhere else, too nervous to look you in the eye.

“Kanroji said this was the best thing I could do for you.” He finally spike after a few moments of silence between the both of you.

Finally, Genya looked over at you, watching as you played with the flowers he gave you. “I really like you Y/n.”

˚ʚTokito Muichiroɞ˚

♡He’s mostly blunt about it, and if he were nervous, it wouldn’t show. Not even a little bit.

♡Since he’s a little new to love, especially romantic feelings, he doesn’t really know when The Perfect Moment would be. And he wouldnt ask Mitsuri for help either.

♡He went to mitsuri when he first started experiencing feelings for you, but just as she was about to offer how he should confess, he left her Estate without another word.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ 

You laid on the soft grass, cloud gazing with Muichiro laying right next you, his long hair sprawled all over the soft grass. A few moments ago, Muichiro knocked on your estate, asking you to watch the clouds with him.

He had a reason he was asking you. That reason was to tell you about his feelings while watching the clouds. But the moment he got lost in the clouds as usual, he forgot why he asked you to join him.

So he Just began to enjoy the Company, ignoring the feeling that he forgot something more important than usual.

“How cute, that one’s shaped like a heart! Reminds me of Kanroji.” Your finger pointed up at a cloud that was shaped exactly like a heart.

‘Oh, right.’ Muichiro’s head fell to the left to look at you. His eyes Soon drifted down to your hand. Before he knew it himself, he intertwined his pinky finger with yours, making you turn your head over to him with a confused expression on your face.

“Y/n. I love you. More than a friend.”

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer x y/n #Kimetsu no yabai x reader #x reader #x y/n #tokito muichiro #muichiro x reader #tokito muichiro x reader #kamado tanjiro #tanjiro x reader #kamado tanjiro x reader #zenitsu agatsuma #zenitsu x reader #zenitsu agatsuma x reader #inosuke #inosuke hashibira #inosuke hashibira x reader #genya shinazugawa #genya shinazugawa x reader #kny x y/n #demon slayer fluff

[norrizzandpia]

Lacy (Part 2) (Lando’s Ending)

Summary: In which the two soulmates finally get together.

Warnings: language, sexual innuendos at the end, everything’s depressing for a bit

Note: SURPRISE YALL!!!!! I ended up staying home from classes today because I got my period and it hurts so fucking bad 😀 so anyways I took this time to write Lando’s ending and let me tell you THIS EATS so grab the popcorn and the tissues and strap in because this concludes the lacy trilogy 😭

LANDO POV

There’s a specific quiet in the wake of the moment when you realize you had been in love with your best friend for as long as you knew her. It’s a quiet that is not peaceful whatsoever. Rather, it’s a chaotic, loud, and painful quiet which twists your insides and makes you want to smack your head against the nearest wall.

That’s the quiet I experience when Luisinha walks into the room and I find myself wishing it was Y/n.

“We need to break up.” I stutter out, my brain not thinking as it dawns on me the confusion toward the feelings I had for Y/n was anything but that. I never should’ve felt confused because it was right in front of me. My love for her had always been there, lingering in the background as I admired her smile. To think I waited this long and pushed her this far away only to realize I needed her is something indescribable.

Luisinha’s face falls as she sits down beside me on the couch, “What?”

Shaking my head, I look in her eyes, “I’m so sorry, Luisinha, but I think I’m just not ready to be with you right now.”

“Because of her.” Her arms cross over her chest as she tilts her head, “So, when I asked you to choose between me and her, and you chose me, that was… what? Confusion?”

“No, I- It was…” I’m rendered speechless as I try to explain myself, “It was a dick move. I’m sorry. I never should’ve shut her out and I never should’ve treated you the way I did. When you asked me to choose, I hadn’t thought about the fact that she’s always been my best friend and she’s been there for me for longer than you have. This isn’t to say I didn’t love you or adore the time I had with you. It’s just me realizing that I’ve gone so long needing her and that will never change.”

Her somber nodding adds another knife to my heart, the amount tripling by the minute as she takes in another one of my mistakes, “You love her? Be honest this time, Lando. I know I asked you this same question after that night when Max and I found you two close on the Monaco street, but I need to know the truth. No matter how much it hurts. So, tell me. Do you love her?”

Sighing, I come to terms with it all, “Yes, I do. I’m not sure when it happened, but I think it’s always been there.”

“You loved her while you were with me?” Her teary eyes meet mine.

Water wells in my eyes, matching her brokenness, “I’m sorry, Luisinha. Truly, I never knew it for sure until I stopped talking to her after choosing you. If I would’ve known before having met you, I wouldn’t have dragged you into this. I’m regretful of how I handled everything, but I’m not regretful of you. I never will be. I hope you won’t be too.”

She shakes her head, “No, I’m not. It just hurts to know your boyfriend loves someone else and be told it’s not true, that you’re crazy, only to be proven right when he can’t go a second without her.”

I expel a breath, “I’m so shit for this. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to make it up to you.”

She gets up from the couch, grabbing her bag off the counter and making her way to the door, “I’m not the person you need to make it up to, Lando. You apologized to me, that’s enough. But, Y/n? There’s a lot of groveling needed to fix that fuckup you made.”

—

Walking into the McLaren Garage, I feel hopeful. Hopeful that when I explain the past few months to Y/n, that she’ll understand; hopeful that she’ll let me love her openly; hopeful that she’ll love me again.

The infamous papaya colors comfort me once more as I round the corner, going to the one place I know she’ll be.

Hospitality. Probably making friends with everyone she sees, knowing every soul that catches a glimpse of her is immediately enthralled and obsessed.

Just like I was.

My eyes land on her, in a white sundress that makes my world stop, and a smile graces my face at her laughter. My eyes wander to the person beside her, the one that had conjured the sweet noise out of her, and find Oscar.

My heart drops for a moment, but then plummets to my feet when I see his hand over hers on the table in front of them and her other hand wrapped around his arm as she tips back in her chair, still lost in the laughter. I stop in my tracks, observing their behavior like my life depends on it, trying desperately to figure out the depth of their partnership.

I must be standing for an awkwardly long time because Mark, Oscar’s manager, comes up next to me, a small, pitiful smile on his face as he states, “Weird, yeah? Everyone’s trying to figure out if they’re together or not. Apparently he was the only person she would see after you broke things off with her.”

The air in my lungs renders empty, completely leaving me and the rest of the life left in my body. My eyes dart over them, that comforting hopefulness draining from my being as they continue their conversation like it’s second nature.

I seem to drown in my emotions, not responding to Mark as he nudges me to a secluded corner of a random hallway. His hands on my arms, he dips down to meet me at eye level, “Lando, you need to pull it together. She’s finally getting better, do not ruin that for her. If she sees you fawning over her, that’ll confuse her and all the progress she’s made will go to shit. I’m begging you, do not screw this up.”

My mouth opens and closes as I try to form some sort of sentence, something to describe the crushing pain that has numbed me and taken things from me I never knew could be taken.

“I was going to try and win her back.” I mumble.

He immediately shakes his head, “Absolutely not. If it’s the last thing I say, do not get near her. You cause her unnecessary pain. At least do it for her, Lando. Leave her alone.”

“But, Mark-” I begin, but he’s quick to cut me off.

“No, Lando. Just, no.” At that, he lets go of me and walks off, as if he hadn’t just crushed specific dreams of mine and left them to die a slow death.

Cruelly, in the distance, I hear her laughing again and my heart shatters at my feet.

Knowing she laughs with him now, instead of me?

I will never come back from that.

—

“I tried calling her the other day. She declined it.” Max states, hands running through his hair as he looks at the screen and makes sure we’re muted.

My fingers hover over her contact under the table, but they don’t move to press it, too scared to really know the outcome.

“I do this everyday. It’s torture.”

The chat blows up on the screen as people ask what we’re doin that warrants muting, but both Max and I ignore it.

“Why don’t you just talk to her? I’m sure she wants closure too.” Max tries.

I shake my head, “She wants closure. I just want her.”

Max rolls his eyes, “So, tell her that.”

“She’s with Oscar!” I exclaim, throwing my hands out and confusing the viewers of our stream even more.

“You don’t know that!” He mirrors my position, both of us staring each other down.

Huffing, I shift back in my chair, turning the microphone back on and effectively ending the conversation.

Max eyes me as he vaguely states, “Lando, you don’t know. We both know you don’t know if that is correct or not. All we know is that they’re friends which they always have been.”

Messages from fans asking who we’re talking about, some getting it perfectly right as they suggest we’re talking about the dating rumors between Oscar and Y/n.

“I don’t want to talk about this with you anymore.” I dish out, tension arising in the room at my aggressive tone.

“Yeah, because we both know I’m right.” He smirks as if my feelings and this situation are entertaining.

“Fuck off, Max. I’m serious.”

Patting my back, he gentles his choice of words, “I know, mate. I know.”

—

MAX F POV

Knocking on her door, I clutch the chocolates in my hand in a death grip. I’m so nervous to see her, nervous that she’ll shut me out and never forgive me.

My mind’s loud and messy as the lock clicks and the wooden slab opens slightly, Y/n’s face peeking through.

When she catches sight of me, her fingers begin to push the door shut again, but my foot is quicker as it wedges in between it.

“Max,” She starts exasperatingly, “I’m not interested in talking to you.”

I nod my head, “I know, I know, but just hear me out, Y/n. You’re my best friend. Please.”

My pleading seems to work as she sighs and then opens her door, gesturing for me to come in. The foyer looks different and I’m not sure why until I realize it's because, whenever I would come over, I would see something of Lando’s strewn on the floor or bench. However, the only papaya I see now is a jacket which has Oscar’s name on it.

She seems to catch what my eyes have landed on, “He’s not here. He forgot that last night.”

My eyebrows rise, looking at her questionably, “Oh?”

She rolls her eyes, “Don’t push it, Max.”

Nodding, I follow her further into the house, still feeling weird that Lando’s presence isn’t blaring like it had been months ago. When we reach the kitchen, she sits down on one of the stools, moving the one beside her further out for me to take place in.

“Let’s settle this like adults then, yeah?” She gives a light smile, restoring hope inside me that she’ll give thought to my redemption.

Once I’m settled, I look her in the eyes and recite what I had practiced in the car, “I am so incredibly sorry for not being the true friend I should’ve been during the Lando situation. I should’ve been there for you, should’ve stood up for you and I never should’ve gone along with him and Luisinha pushing you out of the group. There’s only a few things I regret in life and this is absolutely one of them, the worst one by far. You have been nothing, but the greatest person to me ever since Lando introduced us. I should’ve met you with the same behavior, same loyalty, and I always said I would when it was needed, but when the situation arose, I fucking failed you miserably. You never deserved anything that was shoved in your face and I am so sorry I sat on the sidelines, letting it happen. Y/n, I miss you. I miss my best friend and I’m asking you to forgive me because I won’t fucking screw this up again.”

Her tears strike something in me, something protective as I pull her into a hug.

Her tears wet my shirt as she says, “Yeah, I didn’t fucking deserve any of that. You both were so shitty to me. I never did anything to you.”

I nod, running a hand over her back, “I know, I know. And I’m so fucking sorry.”

She pulls away, rubbing away her tears, “It’s not even you that hurt me the most. It’s Lando. I gave him everything and he still threw me to the fucking curb when it was most convienant for him. I hate him so fucking much, Max.”

I know what she says is false because I can see it in her eyes how much she yearns for him to tell her everything they’ve been tiptoeing around their whole lives. I see it in the way she doesn’t seek comfort in me, but in him, and I see it in the way she forgives me so quickly because the love she holds for me will never be as great as the love she will always hold for him.

“You don’t mean that.”

She stands up, frustrated, “Yes, I do!”

Walking over to her and grabbing her wrists, forcing her eyes to meet mine, I said pointedly, “No, you don’t.”

her resolve breaks completely and the tears wrack her body. Falling into me, she cries, “No, I don’t.”

—

LANDO POV

Seeing her standing below the podiums, in the crowd, cheering in her papaya colors is a type of pain I will always remember because I know she isn’t cheering for me.

She’s cheering for the man standing beside me, the man standing on the third place podium with a trophy in his hands as the Australian flag waves on the screen behind him.

P1 should feel better than this, but it proves to feel like absolute shit as the one thing I truly want isn’t even here to support me. The celebration is frantic and quick as I will myself to hold back the tears trying so hard to break free especially when Oscar leans over the railing to smile down at her, waving, as she screams louder, giving him the same smile she had given me multiple times when I was in the same position.

I watch her watch him, her eyes gleaming with pride. It’s hard to see her forget about me, shut out memories of her cheering for me when she probably gets Deja vu as she does the same thing for someone else.

For months, I’ve tried to mold myself into something she would miss, show only parts of myself on social media that would specifically call out to her, but, still, I’ve come up empty.

I’m bitter as we step back into McLaren’s headquarters on the paddock, and when Oscar tries to congratulate me, I dismiss him harshly. Shoving his hand off my shoulder and storming off to my room, wanting quiet, but not the quiet that only holds memories of her and all we could’ve been.

I’m with my thoughts for a few moments until there’s a small knock on my door. Standing up and going to open it, I’m about to tell off whoever has come to disturb my own personal hell, but when I catch a glimpse of her y/h/c hair, I’m quick to shut my mouth.

“I came to congratulate you.” She says, her voice quiet and unassuming.

There are tears in her eyes as she says, “I know we haven’t spoken, but I also know how much your first win means to you. I know how great you're probably feeling and I don’t want to disrupt that, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t tell you how proud of you I am.”

My voice quivers as my eyes go blurry, tears building up in them, “You think I feel good? You think I’m happy?”

Her nodding has me shaking my head, “No, Y/n, I’m not. I haven’t been since we stopped talking. This isn’t fun. Seeing you cheer for him, seeing you laugh at his jokes and stay by his side. None of this makes this win what we both thought it would be. This win will only be everything we chalked it up to be if you would listen to what I have to tell you.”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Lando, you stopped talking to me. You almost told me you loved me and then, the next day, just went fucking silent.”

I nod, “I know and I’m sorry, but she made me choose.”

Her eyes widened, “Luisinha made you choose between us and you chose her? Well, that’s fucking perfect, Lando!”

I shake my head vigorously, “No! Fuck. No, Y/n. That’s not how I meant it to sound.”

She puts her hands on her hips, jutting it out, and, usually, I’d laugh at the sassy pose, but, now, it just makes me want to hold her and kiss her, tell her how much I’ve loved her all this time.

“How’d you mean it to sound then, Lando?”

Groaning, I threw my hands out beside me, “I meant that, yes, I chose her, but after a few days, I realized that was a stupid decision because…” My eyes meet hers as I yell, “Because I fucking love you! I’m in love with you! I always have been. There has never been a time where I didn’t have the overwhelming need to have you be mine and I was just so confused by that feeling that I only realized it when you were gone. I broke up with Luisinha the second I figured my shit out and ever since then I’ve had to endure your happiness with Oscar! I’m so sorry for everything I put you through and the hurt I enabled that you never deserved, but it’s bull-fucking-shit, Y/n. I was going to do everything in my power to win you back and, not just as a friend this time, win you back, so we could finally be what we’ve always wanted to be. But, no! Just when I allowed myself to lean into the feelings I have for you, you got with Oscar and I’ve had to deal with the fact that I lost you to him this whole time. It’s worse than hell, Y/n. It’s worse than anything I’ve ever felt in my entire life.”

Her body visibly tenses, “Are you fucking kidding me, Lando?! Oscar and I aren’t together!”

My mind goes quiet, “What?”

She scoffs, “We were never together! He was helping me get over you! Which proved to be hard because I haven’t yet.”

I shake my head, utter annoyance at my own stupidity, “So, that was never a thing?”

She throws her head back, “Oh my fucking god, Lando, if I didn’t love you, I’d kill you. No, we were never a thing. Oscar was just the one friend I had during the dark part of my life where I tried to move on from you.”

My jaw dropped as I looked at her, my brain trying to form some kind of response, “I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

She nods, “Yeah, you fucking should be. You took so long to realize your feelings for me and then took longer because you read into something that always has been and always will be platonic.”

I drop my head down, but it’s moved up when her hands cup my chin and force my eyes to meet hers, “Lan, why’d you make it so complicated?”

Shaking my head, I exhale, “Because my feelings for you are complicated.”

She smiles lightly, “No, they aren’t.”

I mirror her smile, “No, they aren’t. They’re as clear as day. I love you.”

Her giggling restores the life into my body I lost all that time ago, “Say it again,”

Her wish is my command, always, “I love you.”

I continue to say it softly as I lean down, my hands winding around her hips and pulling her into me as I kiss her. Our first kiss seems to be the best one I’ve ever experienced as her touch glides across my neck and my hands grip the skin of her back after having pushed their way under her shirt. It’s soft and slow, representing the love we found between us. When she pulls away, her face millimeters away from mine, she asks, “Does this make your first race win everything you thought it would be?”

I chuckle, kissing her once more before pulling her into my room and shutting the door, “Yes, but I have an idea of how you could make it even better.”

Her eyebrows rise as my hands begin to move her shirt up and off her body, “Yeah?”

Taking in the start of her bare, gorgeous body, I nod slowly, smirking mischievously, “Oh, yeah.”

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #mclaren #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris fic #lando imagine #lando x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #lando norris #oscar piasstri #oscar pia #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fanfiction

[getosbigballsack]

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝑵𝒆𝒘 𝑻𝒐𝒚

𝑮𝒆𝒕𝒐 𝑺𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒖 𝒙 𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖

𝑺𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: 𝑨 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒗𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒃𝒐𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒂 𝒕𝒐𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒍𝒍 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔 𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔, 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒋𝒐𝒃, 𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒏𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒙

𝑨/𝑵: 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒖𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒚. 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅. 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒔 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒔, 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒊𝒎 𝒈𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕𝒎. 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔 𝒕𝒐 @noroi1000 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆. 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖♥︎❥︎❤︎❣︎

𝑾𝑪: 3.2𝒌

𝑮𝒆𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐'𝒔 𝑾𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆✯

𝑬𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚❤︎

You should've accepted your best friend's offer to ride home with you when she inquired if you needed a ride. You should've answered yes instead of being arrogant and choosing to walk home alone in the middle of the night. 

Your hand wrapped tightly around your frame as you hugged the fur coat that did little to keep you warm, the heels you wore digging into the back of your heel, it hurt so much that you just wanted to kick the shoes off your feet and walk barefooted along the dirty, gravelled stone pavement. 

You were unhappy as it was, and to make matters worse, you occurred to step into a muddy puddle of water. "Fuck my life," you hissed as you brushed off your heels and walked back home. You didn't live too far away from the club; it was only a fifteen-minute walk to your flat. 

That’s why you chose to walk, but it would have been wiser to accept your best friend's offer instead of going home in 7-inch heels and stumbling in puddles. 

You murmured again, raising your head to the heavens, and asking, "Why do I have to live such a difficult life? Stripping isn't working for me. I can't afford to pay my bills or rent, and I have no idea what I'm going to eat tomorrow." 

Yes, life is difficult, and as much as you disliked complaining, you had no choice but to do so. You're constantly stuck trying to figure out what you were going to do, and tonight was no exception since, for one thing, you didn't make a single dollar. Not only that, but you also got into an intense argument with your boss. 

“Fuck…” you screamed. Your life just sucked. 

You were so preoccupied with your thoughts that you didn't notice the sound of heavy footsteps approaching you. When you realised someone was following you, it was too late because they already had you against their chest and a knife at your throat. 

“Now, now small thing, if you play nice, I promise I won’t kill you,” they whispered as they pressed the knife even more against your neck. 

You swallow thickly, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you thought - How can my day get any worse than this - before opening up your lips to ask the person that held you, “What do you want?” 

“Well, my boss would like to have you in his bed,” they said to you. 

“Oh,” you said. You weren’t expecting that to be the answer. You were hoping that he’d ask for sex, a blowjob, money that you didn’t have, or something else. But this was unexpected. “Well, tell your boss…that… that I’m not interested.” 

“I can’t do that small thing,” they said back to you. 

“Why?” you asked them. 

“Following orders ma’am,” they responded.

“Well, how about I suck your cock and you fuck me for free and after you're done, just let me go,” you offered. “You can just tell him that I got run over by a car or better, yet I jumped off a building.”

You were hoping that they’d accept your offer and fuck you, but instead they laughed. “As tempting as those sounds. I can’t do that ma’am my boss or better bosses don't like when their toy is being played with.”

Toy? Now that word is a triggering word for you because for starters you weren’t a damn object, and you most certainly will never be. So, you sighed yet again. “Sir could you please just let me go… I’ll” 

“Don’t even try to make an offer, just play nice and come with me. My bosses are expecting you to arrive soon. No, to make this easier on us,” he said as he removed the knife from your neck. “Let’s put you to sleep.”

Then suddenly a rag was held against your nose, and the hand that wrapped around your waist tightened. “No… No,” you screamed, your fright and flight finally kicked in. You began thrashing around in his arms. "Please don't do this."

"Be quiet!" The man whispered in your ear. "NO amount of struggling will help. It'll be over faster if you just breathe." 

You shook your head not as you tried to fight your way out of his arms. But his grip only got tighter, and the rag that was pressed against your nose was now covering your mouth. "Please! Don't do this to me," you begged hoping that he'd have a bit of sympathy for you and just let you walk free. 

But this man, he valued his life more than yours. If he messed up his mission to take you to his bosses, then he knew that his head would be used as an example of what would happen if anyone failed a mission again. 

"Breathe!" A single tear dropped from your eye when you took a deep breath and breathed in the scent of the drug that was on the rag. Your eyes felt a bit heavy, your body getting slightly weak when the substance began to take over your body. 

It wasn't long though, before your body turned limp into his arms as you continued to breathe in the most unforgiving drug. "That's it, just breathe." And that's the last thing you heard before your eyes closed and everything around you went completely dark. 

… 

"Ugh, Sugu please… wh- when is my t- toy getting here," the white-haired man stuttered through his moans as he clung to his partner for dear life. 

"Mhm… be patient Satoru," Geto Suguru, his partner in crime whispered, his lips against Gojo Satoru's ear just sucking at his lobe as his hand gently pumped his cock. 

"But… but I wanna play with her now…" Gojo whined. 

"Brat!" Geto hissed. "Remember what I told you. I went through so much trouble finding a suitable toy just for you." Gojo grunted, his head rolling against Geto's shoulder, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip trying his hardest to hold back the moan that was fighting to spill from his lips. "You better take good care of this one." 

"But what… ugh fuck… what if she's like the rest of them? I don't want a useless… toy," Gojo whined. 

"Just shut the fuck up and cum for me," Geto hissed before kissing Gojo's lips while his hand sped up a bit. "Gonna cum for me, pretty boy!"

"Yes! I'm going to cum,"

Amid their intimacy, the door to their chambers slowly opened revealing their trusted employee (or so they thought) walking inside with you lying unconscious in their arms. 

“Oh, my fucking God, I was just about to fucking CUM,” Gojo shouted, his hand reaching for the gun tucked away in the back of Geto’s pants and fired it at the man who stood before them. Luckily for him, Geto was quick enough to tap the gun downwards just before the shot fired and the bullet ended up landing at the man’s feet. “Don’t you know when too… Ugh!” 

“That’s right pretty boy cum for me,” Geto cooed as he gently pulled the gun from his lover’s grip, his hand that was firmly wrapped around his cock moving just a bit faster as he brought Gojo closer and closer to the brink of his ecstasy. 

“Yes… yes… yes,” Gojo screamed, both his hands wrapping themselves around Geto’s neck, face buried into his chest, lip biting and toes curling as a rope of cum shot from the blush pink tip of Gojo’s veiny cock into the calloused palm of Geto’s hands. 

“That’s a lot of cum Satoru,” Geto said, chuckling as he lifted his hand and showed it to Gojo. 

“Not my fault,” Gojo mumbled. 

“Of course not.” Gojo hummed while Geto grabbed a few napkins that were surprisingly on the bed and wiped the cum away from his hand. “Toji, you have the goods I see.”

“Yup!” he answered nonchalantly, not even phased by the fact that he almost got shot by Gojo Satoru just a few minutes ago. Well, that was nothing new to him anyway, Gojo had pointed a gun to his head, the first day he began working for them. 

“Put her on the bed.” Toji hummed as he walked towards the bed and placed on the soft duvet sheets. “It wasn't too much of a hassle to get her now, was it?” 

“Nah, she just talked too much,” Toji replied. “I’ll be taking my leave then. Have a good night Geto.” With that Toji spun around on his heels and left the room and closed the doors behind him. 

“Satoru… look there she is,” Geto said while smiling and pointing at your body on the bed. Though his legs were trembling a bit, Gojo managed to ease himself from Geto’s lap and crawled out to where his body was. “Be careful now.”

“Mhm… whatever,” Gojo groaned, still his hand lifted to stroke the apples of your cheeks. Oh yes, he’s already thinking of all the nasty things he could do with such a pretty face like yours. The hickeys he’ll leave on your jaw and neck, the bite marks and nails scraping against your cheek… oh all the things he could do to you. “Gonna have so much fun with you. Pretty baby.” 

… 

The sound of a man whining and groaning against your ear had you immediately jumping out of whatever deep slumber you were in. “Fuck…” you hissed as your foggy eyes tried to make out your surrendering. 

“Finally awake I see…” an unfamiliar voice whispered against your ear before a warm pair of lips were planted against your cheek. Your head quickly snapped into the mysterious voice direction, your hand resting against the jaw that was previously kissed. 

“Who… who are you?” you asked, your eyes still a bit foggy but you could still see a head of white hair, and crystalline blue eyes staring right at you. “Who are you and what do you want with me?”

“Sex! Hugs! Kisses! And more SEX! But Sugu said that I’m not supposed to touch you. Sad but the longer the wait the sweeter the reward, pretty girl,” he said smiling from ear to ear. You tried to move away from him only to be pushed back against the duvets and the man now hovering over you. “Now, now don’t be like that. I was kind enough to not fuck you in your sleep. Don’t let me regret my decision and just fuck you right here.” 

“Satoru… Be nice. Poor girl must be terrified. Get up and let me chat with her,” Another man spoke as he appeared behind whose name you now know to be Satoru. “Hi there princess, you look a little scared.” 

“Where am I?” you asked, as tears began streaming from your eyes. “Why am I here? I wanna go home.”

“See, you’re scaring her, move!” With that said, the man pushed Satoru away from you. “It’s ok now princess, no need to be scared. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he calmly stated as he pulled you towards him.

“I wanna go home, please…” you cried. 

“Hm? I don’t understand, you’re already home,” he answered while using his thumb and wiping your tears from your cheek. You looked at him in shock, your eyes now finally clearing up and now staring deeply into the man’s small golden eyes while he stared back at you. “You wanna leave the comfort of your home to go live inside a shabby apartment pretty girl? You break my heart.” 

“But… but…”

“Now… now… no buts. I suggest you go along with the flow and don’t ask any unnecessary questions princess unless you wanna be punished on the first day. You don't want that to happen now do we?" You quickly shook your head not as soon as the words punishment fell from his lips. “Good girl. Now stop the foolish crying and let us introduce ourselves. My name is Geto Suguru and that is my partner and lover Gojo Satoru. What is your name?” 

You sniffed and swallowed deeply, your fist balling into your lap as you opened up your lips and answered, “Y/N.” 

He smiled, a charming smile at that as he lifted his hand to stroke your tear-stained cheek, “Such a pretty name for a pretty girl, right Satoru?” 

“Mhm…” Satoru answered while smiling at you too. 

“Come here,” Geto called as he held his hand out for you to take. You stared at it for a bit, wondering if holding his hand was the right thing to do. But given the situation that you’re currently in, it seems as if it was the only thing you were allowed to do. So, you took hold of his hand. Your sweaty palms slid over his hot calloused hands, fingers slotted between his before folding your fingers over his knuckles and holding tightly onto your hand. 

“Let’s have a look around your new home, shall we? Satoru led the way for us,” and with that said, Geto pulled you closer to him before sliding his arm under your thighs and gently lifted you from the bed. You were a bit frightened, but you remained calm hoping that if you stayed still in his arms, he wouldn't drop you. 

“As you can see, this is our bedroom,” Gojo said as he began walking around the room. “You’ll be here for most of the time. Sugu and I have to work so you’ll have to stay here and wait like a good little wife. Plus, we'll have plenty of sex in here also.”

“Toru…” Geto called out to him in a slight warning tone. 

“Mhmm… whatever,” Gojo grumbled. During that time of them bickering for a bit, you took the time to look around the all-white room. The walls were white, and the carpets on the floor were white. The king-size bed in the middle of the room was elegantly dressed in soft white duvet sheets with white and seashell-coloured pillows. 

To the left of the room was what you assumed to be a closet, based on the design and the shapes of the double doors. “That's our closet dear. And inside the closet in a bathroom, Satoru will show it to you when it’s time for you to take a bath.”

You only nodded as you looked to the right of the room to see a Jacuzzi. What’s a Jacuzzi doing inside of a bedroom? A look of confusion crossed your face and Geto realised this. “What is it, princess?” 

Princess!? You thought. What a nice name to be calling a girl who he just kidnapped. “Uhm… what’s a jacuzzi doing inside of the bedroom?” 

“Ah… it’s there so that you don’t have to leave the room. You have a big bed to sleep on while you wait for us. A nice huge closet to play dress up in while you wait for us, a small little living room area that you’re soon about to see, and a jacuzzi to keep you from getting bored,” Geto answered. 

“You wanna keep me locked up?” 

“Yes,” Gojo answered with no hesitation. “Why should my precious toy leave their playroom? You should be in here waiting until I am ready to play with you. Don’t worry Sugu will play with you too.” 

You looked at both of them in disbelief. What was going on right now? You were drugged, kidnapped, and now being told that you were going to be locked up inside of a house like a toy? And what can we call this reaction of yours? Shouldn’t you be freaking out? Crying and screaming hysterically until they both got fed up with your bullshit and threw you out? 

Why are you so calm? Well, I guess you can say you’ve been through so much bullshit in your life, nothing ever really phased you for too long. Sigh. 

“The only way for you to leave this room is to be on your best behaviour. All you have to do is follow our rules, do as we say, and you’ll get a free pass to do anything that you want for a day, do you understand?” Geto asked and you shook your head yes. “Good princess. Now Toru is gonna take you to the bathroom. You need to take a bath and get changed out of these dirty clothes.” 

Gojo took you from Geto’s arms and then slowly made his way towards the bathroom. “When you get back, we’ll talk about the rules and punishments.” 

…

Once Gojo showed you to the bathroom. It didn’t take much time for you to shower and get changed. Oh, you had to say that you thought that Gojo was going to be the one to shower you, but surprisingly he left right after he showed you what products you’re supposed to use. 

Anyways, after showering you got changed into white lingerie that featured a flattering and full asymmetrical hem to highlight your legs' line, adjustable spaghetti straps for a great fit, and true beauty are revealed via the bicolour flowery lace cups. Lace chemise lingerie has front closure styling to show off your cute bump and will not bind your tummy, making it a fantastic choice for pregnant ladies. "METAL front hook closure" details help to produce a stunning bust line. The dress is made of delicate lace and mesh, is stretchy and breathable, and has distinctive embroidery that precisely shows your body line. 

It’s beautiful. 

You then move on to drying your hair, brushing your teeth, and moisturising your skin before stepping out of the bathroom to see Gojo straddling Geto’s lap, with his head resting against Geto’s shoulder and Geto’s arms gently patting his back. “There she is.” 

“Took you long enough,” Gojo said as he removed himself from Geto’s lap. He sat on the bed beside Geto then patted his lap while he beckoned you to come closer to him. “Sit,” he ordered, and you quickly walked over to him and sat yourself in his lap. 

“You look beautiful princess,” Geto complimented, and you shook your head yes. “Nuh huh, say thank you.”

“Th- Thank you.” 

“Good girl, now remember what I said about rules and punishment earlier?” Geto asked and you shook your head yes. “Well, Satoru and I only have two rules. Rule number one: Don’t leave the room without either of us. Rule number two: Just do as you’re told without question. If you’re able to follow those simple rules, then you won’t get punished.” 

“What happens if I break a rule?” you asked. 

“Well, it depends. Say for instance you break rule number one, if we catch then that is 30 spanks. Break rule number 2, then the punishment varies, from spanks to ass fucking, to overstimulation or even worst humiliation, meaning we’ll take you on a walk outside,” Geto said while smiling from ear to ear. 

“Not just any walk, pretty girl,” Gojo chimed in. 

“What do you mean?” you asked while raising your brow at them. 

“Hm… Break the rule and you’ll find out. Now let's get to bed, hm, you must be tired.” 

“No, I want a kiss first,” Gojo demanded. 

“You heard him pretty girl, give him a kiss,” and with that, you pressed your lips against his, and not even a moment later he began to devour them. “There you go getting comfortable with Satoru.” 

It’s not like you had a choice anyway, it’s either do as they say or suffer the consequences. 

And that is not something you want after all your life was already hard enough.

𝐴𝑛𝑦𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑑𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘. 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑜𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔. 𝐼𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒.

@getosbigballsack 2023

𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑻𝑾𝑶 𝑩𝒀 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝒀?

𝑾𝑯𝑶 𝑲𝑵𝑶𝑾𝑺 𝑴𝑨𝒀𝑩𝑬. 𝑫𝑬𝑷𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑶𝑵 𝑯𝑶𝑾 𝑾𝑬𝑳𝑳 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀 𝑫𝑶𝑬𝑺.

#gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #geto smut #geto suguru #gojo satoru #jjk geto #suguru geto #getou suguru smut #geto x reader #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojo headcanons #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru headcanons #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen satoru #a #satosugu x reader #satosugu smut #satosugo #jujutsu kaisen geto #getou suguru #jujutsu geto #geto suguru headcanons #geto suguru smut #getou+suguru+smut

[asirensrage]

Dealing with Unwanted Attention - The Hashira

An exploration of how the Hashira (+bonus) help you deal with unwanted attention from a neighbour.

Modern!AU!Demon Slayer (and female!reader).

Adult!Hashira (except for Muichiro and Tanjiro and co who are all teens)

Rating: T

Pairings: Nothing explicit but suggestive... (aside from Tengen&wives)

Warning: swearing, some violence/threats, mention of possible stalking (they've been staring at them for a while), slight poisoning, neighbour being a creep, mention of them wanting to watch women make out.Un-beta'd.

Word count: ~ 4800

Notes: Based on true events (mainly the neighbour staring and stopping the reader to confess their feelings). I wasn't planning on writing this in 2nd person pov, but it kept trying to change into it as I wrote, then when I was trying to choose between 2nd and 3rd, my friend chose 2nd and a random wheel picker chose 2nd...so I gave in to the universe. This got long. Enjoy!

Please let me know what you think and if I got the characterizations right. One of my fave lines I've written is in this, see if you can guess lol.

What they arrive to:

You try to be polite to your neighbours. There’s no need to be rude, even if you’d rather be left alone by them, but you didn’t expect it to lead to this. You know the man has been watching you. You could feel his eyes on you when you were outside and he was on his balcony, but you’ve never said more than a thank you to him for holding open the door for you so you’re not entirely sure how you’re in this mess. 

He’s confessing to you. This man that you’ve never officially met until right now, who might actually be younger than you, who is telling you he’s an alcoholic but that he’ll change. For you. How does he think this is appealing? You’re trying to find an exit, you don't want to be completely rude since you live in the same building and you’re likely going to see him again, but you want out. Now.

The reactions:

Sanemi

“Who the fuck is this?”

You let out a breath at the voice, relief setting in deep in your bones. “Sanemi,” you turn with a smile, grateful for his timing. 

He’s not looking at you. His eyes are on the man standing in front of you, who’s still trying to reach out to touch you. Again. Sanemi moves, stepping forwards until he’s in front of you, blocking the man from your view. He stares at you for a moment, taking stock of the relief he can practically feel radiating from you. “Are you ready to go?” he asks. You don’t have any plans, but you don’t care. You’ll follow him anywhere right now. 

“Yeah. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Tch. You should be,” he says. He sounds irritated but you know him better by now. 

“Excuse me,” the man behind him interrupts. “We’re in the middle of something.”

You watch as Sanemi’s expression shifts into something slightly murderous as he slowly turns to look at the other man. “Did I fucking ask?” The man steps back and Sanemi takes the motion to move forward, getting into his personal space like he tried to get into yours. “You know him?” Sanemi directs the question to you despite not looking back. 

“He lives here.” 

“I’m introducing myself,” the man says. “We’ll be friends.”

“Friends?” Sanemi scoffs. “She has enough friends.” He steps forward again, forcing the man back. “You ever make her uncomfortable again or even try to touch her again, I’ll break your fucking hands, got it?” 

“Uh, yeah.” 

“Good. Fucking creep,” Sanemi turns back to you, ignoring him. “Come on.” He waits for you to move, keeping himself between you as he leads you away from the building. “He ever bothers you again, you tell me.”

You grin up at him. “I will. Thank you.” 

“You just got lucky I showed up.”

“...why did you come by?” 

He doesn’t answer. 

Shinobu

“My my, what’s this?” 

You turn to look at the voice, relief setting in that at least you won’t have to do this alone. Shinobu doesn’t offer you a hug, but she stands next to you, glancing at the man before looking back at you. “New friend?” Shinobu asks, a light smile on her face. 

You know better than to assume that your friend is being polite. “A neighbour,” you confirm, ignoring the flash of anger you catch on the man’s face. Great. Another thing to deal with. 

Shinobu hums lightly before she turns to the man. “Is there something you needed?” 

The man blatantly looks over her before smiling. “I am introducing myself. Hopefully, we can be friends. All of us.” He is either unaware of the danger the small woman presents or ignores it. Either one marks him as an idiot. 

“Oh? Are you incapable of making friends?” 

He blinks in surprise and you know he’s unsure whether or not to take offence. Shinobu has a way of saying things in her light voice that most men don’t realize are as cruel as she intends them to be. “What?”

“Are you unable to make friends?” she asks again, smile still in place. “I assume that’s why you’re cornering a woman who’s clearly not interested. It’s a bit pathetic, don’t you think?” 

“Pathetic?” he catches the insult and scowls at your friend. 

“Yes,” Shinobu nods. “Does that make you angry? There are ways to fix it, that don’t involve my friend.” 

“I’m not pathetic! I was–” he’s cut off as he reaches forward. Shinobu’s hand grabs his wrist before he can reach you. He tries to pull back and frowns slightly as her nails scratch him as he pulls away. “I was introducing myself,” he continues. 

“Then you’re done and now you can leave,” Shinobu nods. He looks as though he’s going to protest but he sways slightly before blinking rapidly. 

“Did you do something?” you ask Shinobu, who looks at you innocently. You know better though. 

“Hmm…it might be a reaction to the latest experiment. Perhaps it got on my nails. I’m sorry,” she smiles at the man. “You should be fine with some rest. It’s not nearly enough to be fatal.” 

The man pales. “What?”

“You should go,” Shinobu says. “Unless you’re willing to be a test subject. I’m sure no one will miss you if you’ve cornered women before. Perhaps you should be more careful, no?” 

The man basically runs from her and you watch as he leaves. 

“What was really on your nails?” you ask, looking at Shinobu. 

“A mild paralytic. He’ll survive,” she says. “I came to ask if you wanted to join me for dinner?”

“After that? Absolutely.” 

Gyomei

Someone calls your name and before you can even turn to look, you see the man in front of you blanch. You know the voice and it’s entertaining to see firsthand how intimidated someone can be by your friend behind you. Especially when you know that he’s the kindest one of you all. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Gyomei,” you greet warmly. “What are you doing here?” 

“I came to see if you would join me for the afternoon. Are you busy?” 

You look at your neighbour who is still staring at the tall man in shock. 

“Oh,” Gyomei says. “My apologies for interrupting.” He turns to the man. “I am Himejima Gyomei.” 

Your neighbour introduces himself and you try not to be annoyed at how he’s stepping back now that someone else is here. Especially when it’s another man. “Are you friends?” your neighbour asks. 

Gyomei looks down at you. “I am very lucky to have her in my life.” It’s not an answer and you have a feeling he’s done it intentionally. Whatever. You’re not going to complain if it gets you out of this. 

You smile up at him. “I think I’m the lucky one,” you say. You mean it too. Gyomei is a calming presence in your life, someone steadfast that you know you can rely on. He rests his hand on your shoulder and you relax under it. You’re safe with him. 

He turns back to your neighbour. “Please, continue your conversation. I can wait.” 

“No,” your neighbour says. “It’s fine. I didn’t realize…” he trails off before wandering away without saying goodbye. 

“Are you alright?” Gyomei asks again. 

“Yeah,” you say. “I am now.” 

Obanai and Mitsuri (because ofc they're together)

You notice when his gaze shifts from you to something behind you. Then you hear it.

“You’re outside! Did you know we were coming?” 

You turn to see Mitsuri heading towards you, Obanai behind her, his eyes already on your neighbour who is staring…at Mitsuri. You turn and move, just enough to block his view. Mitsuri doesn’t have a problem showing off any of her assets, but that doesn’t mean your creep of a neighbour could stare. Ew. 

Misturi crashes into you with a hug, as though it’s been years since you’ve last seen each other and not days. You hug back just as tight, grateful for the company. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask. 

“We came to take you out!” Misturi pulls back and motions towards Obanai. “We missed you!” 

You weren’t sure if that was the truth but a quick glance at Obanai shows that he’s moved to stand between you two and your neighbour. He nods toward you and you can’t help but smile back. 

“Where are we going?” you ask. 

“Dinner,” Obanai says. 

“Excuse me!” your neighbour cuts in, moving to the side so that Obanai is no longer blocking him. "Hey, we were talking.”

“Oh!” Mitsuri turns to face him. “I’m sorry!” 

Obanai glares at the interruption. “Who are you?”

“Her neighbour. We were just getting introduced.” He gives his name again, this time reaching for Mitsuri’s hand. He does not get far. 

“You often touch people without them wanting you to?” Obanai asks, his grip tightening on the man’s wrist. Your neighbour tries to pull back but is unable to. 

“He was just introducing himself,” Mitsuri says. “Weren’t you?”

“Of course!” Your neighbour says. “Can’t people be friendly?”

“No.” 

You have to hide a smile as Mitsuri giggles at Obanai’s response. 

“Go ahead,” Obanai says. “I’d like a word with your neighbour.” He doesn’t look at you, keeping his eyes on the man whose wrist he’s still holding. 

“Okay!” Mitsuri grabs your hand and starts pulling you away. “Nice to meet you! Don’t be too rough, Obanai, okay?” Once they’re far enough away, Misturi lets go and looks at you. “Are you alright? You looked uncomfortable.”

“Yeah,” you say, smiling softly. “He came out of nowhere. I’m glad you were there.” 

“Don’t worry, Obanai will let him know you’re not interested. Besides, you have us!” 

You hug Mitsuri again with one arm. “I do!” 

Muichiro

You step back as your neighbour moves forward, reaching for your hand again. Why does he keep trying to touch you?

“I don’t think she likes that,” a voice comes from the side. Both of you look and your face lights up when you see who it is. 

“Muichiro! What are you doing here?”

His head tilts slightly as he looks at you. “You said I could come any time.” 

You smile slightly as you nod. “You’re right, I did.” The kid was always welcome but it was rare to see him without his twin. “Where’s Yuichiro?” 

“He said he’d come later. He thinks he’s figured out a move that will beat me in shogi.” 

“Is this your brother?” your neighbour cuts in. He smiles at the younger boy and introduces himself. Muichiro ignores him. 

“Are you going out?” he asks. “Can we join you?”

“Yes,” your neighbour adds. “We can walk with you. Get to know each other better.” You recoil from him reaching for you again and step back.

“Not you,” Muichiro cuts in. “You are not invited.” 

“What?” 

“You’re not invited,” the kid says again. “I don’t think you should touch her anymore. She doesn’t like it.” 

“Listen, brat, no one asked you.” 

“Hey!” you cut in, scowling. Why was it always easier to defend someone else than it was to defend yourself? “He’s right. You can’t just invite yourself. Thank you, but I’m not interested.” 

He reaches for you again but Muichiro knocks him over as the boy moves forward. “She said she’s not interested.” Muichiro stares at the man on the ground for a moment. “You shouldn’t bother women who aren’t interested.” He looks back at you. “Should we call someone?”

“It’s fine,” you say. “Come on, let’s go meet Yuichiro on the way. I’ll buy dinner.” You both leave the man to pick himself up and you silently pray he gets the hint. 

Giyu

You almost don't hear your name being called. The lack of reaction doesn’t stop Giyu from moving forward and standing next to you. 

You look up at him in relief. “Giyu!”

“I called,” he says. He glances at your neighbour who is watching you. “Are you busy?” 

“No,” you shake your head, hoping that he’ll be able to at least get you out of this. Even as hopeless as he was socially, you know that he’ll pick up on your hints. You’ve known each other long enough. 

“We’re in the middle of a conversation,” your neighbour says, looking unimpressed that you’re dismissing him. 

Giyu looks at him before turning back to you. “Are you hungry? I wanted to talk.” 

“Sure!” 

“Excuse me,” your neighbour interrupts again. 

Giyu gives you an unimpressed look but turns to face him. “Can I help you?”

“You’re interrupting. I was just getting to know your friend.”

Giyu stares at the man for a moment. “I don’t think she wants to know you.”

Your neighbour’s jaw drops. “Who are you to say that?”

“Her friend.” Giyu looks at you again. “Do you want to stay?”

You shake your head slightly, just enough to convey your desire to leave. You might have to never come back. Or maybe you could convince him to move. “Let’s get something to eat.”

“There’s no need to be rude!” your neighbour snaps.

“She’s not rude,” Giyu says. “It was clear she wasn’t interested before. You should pay attention.” You try not to laugh at Giyu of all people pointing out ignoring social cues. You adore him more for it. “Let’s go.” 

“Hey!” your neighbour reaches out, aiming for Giyu’s shoulder to stop him from leading you away. He doesn’t make it. Giyu steps to the side, turning as he grabs your neighbour’s hand and directs the motion straight to the ground. 

You can’t stop the gasp at the sound of him hitting the ground. 

Giyu holds him there for a moment. “Are you done?” he asks. He finally releases him and steps back. “You should keep your hands to yourself.” Giyu looks at you again. “Can we go now?”

“Yeah,” you smile. “We can.” 

He offers you his hand to step over your neighbour and leads you away. “If he bothers you again, call us.”

“I will.” 

Kyojuro

Someone shouts your name and as soon as you hear it, you calm down. Things are going to be okay. You turn towards the voice and grin. “Kyo!” 

“I hoped you were home!” He strides forwards towards the two of you. He looks between you both. “Am I interrupting?”

“No!” you exclaim as your neighbour says “yes.” 

Kyojuro looks at you both before he nods. “I see. My apologies regardless.” He smiles at your neighbour and offers his hand. “I am Rengoku Kyojuro. Who are you?” 

You watch as your neighbour introduces himself almost warily as if he’s not sure what to make of the situation. 

Kyojuro turns to you, stepping closer and smiling down. “Are you free today?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. Continue your conversation, I will wait.” He crosses his arms over his chest and turns to face your neighbour. The man looks stunned to be pinned by Kyojuro’s gaze. You know the feeling but you wait to see if he’s going to continue to confess under your friend’s stare. 

“I uh…” your neighbour glances at Kyojuro again before he looks at you. “As I was saying, I want to know you more! If you don’t like that I drink, I’ll stop.”

You look at Kyojuro whose expression hasn’t changed but you can see the tension in his form. You wouldn’t notice if you didn’t know him like you do. “I heard you,” you say carefully. It’s safer now, you feel, to decline his interest outright with someone else with you. “Thank you, but I’m not interested.”

“You haven’t even given me a chance,” your neighbour says. You don’t want to. “We could just spend time together.”

“No thanks,” you say, shifting closer to Kyojuro without thinking. 

Your neighbour steps forward, reaching for your hand again. “I’m not trying–” 

“She has made herself clear,” Kyojuro interrupts, his hand on the man’s wrist, preventing him from touching you. “Do not dishonour yourself further and press for her attention.” 

“Dishonour? I’m just trying to ask her out!”

“And she refused,” Kyojuro says, still staring at the man. “I fear that if she should accept, the flame of her heart would be drowned by the weight of your desire. I cannot accept that!” 

“I didn’t ask you,” your neighbour snarls. 

“You did not! But I am here regardless and thankful for it, if only to protect her from your refusal to hear her disinterest. Leave now.”

“You can’t just–”

“I can! I trust that you will not embarrass yourself further. Should I hear that you continue to push or attempt to take advantage, I will not be as forgiving as I am now.” 

The man stares at him for a moment before Kyojuro finally lets go. Your neighbour stumbles back slightly. He glares at you both, rubbing at the wrist Kyojuro held before he walks off, heading to the building. Kyojuro watches until the man disappears into the building before he turns to you. “Are you alright?” 

You move without really thinking, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. “Thank you.” 

He pauses for a moment before he brings his arms around you, holding you against him. “It’s alright,” he says softly. “I am just glad I was able to be here.” 

You pull back. “I appreciate the help. What brings you around?”

“I wanted to see you, of course!” He lets go as you move away. “As you are not busy, would you be willing to join me? I have something I wanted to show you!”

“Of course! Let’s go!”

Tengen

An arm drapes itself over your shoulder. If you weren’t familiar with the weight of it, the scent of the man who pulls you into him, you would have recoiled. “What’s this then?”

You look up at the built man who towers over the rest of you. “Tengen! What are you doing here?” 

“Came to see you, of course! Who’s this?” Despite the cheerful tone, he doesn’t take his eyes off your neighbour. 

“My neighbour,” you say after a moment as you realize the man in question is still looking at Tengen. 

“Hm,” Tengen leans down, putting his face next to yours and ignoring your neighbour. “You miss me?” He grins as he asks, eyes on you. 

“Didn’t I just see you the other day with the others?” you quip back, used to his flirting.

“Who are you?” the man finally speaks up.

Tengen glances over at him and you can practically see him considering if he wants to deal with the man. He straightens, keeping his arm around you, and grins. “Uzui Tengen! Flashiest man around and the love of her life!”

“You’re not the love of my life,” you say automatically.

“I could be,” Tengen says. He leans down closer again and his voice lowers. “Don’t you want to give us a chance?” 

“We’re talking,” your neighbour cuts in again. “In fact, if she’s not interested, it’s all the more reason she should say yes to going out with me.” 

“I would think that the she in question should make the choice,” you mutter. 

“Why would she date someone as unflashy as you?” Tengen asks, looking unimpressed. 

Your neighbour seems taken aback by the question. “What? Why wouldn’t she?” 

Tengen makes a point of looking the man up and down. “You have no flair! No flamboyance! In fact, it’s very unflashy of you to keep ignoring her like this while you talk about her, right Angel?” 

“Hmm,” you nod in agreement. 

Tengen tightens his grip slightly “Do you want to go out with this boring man?” He asks. 

“No.”

“There you have it. Now,” Tengen leans towards your neighbour. “In fact, I don’t think you should bother her again and if you do, well…I’ll show you how flashy I can be.” 

The man swallows slightly, as though he’s suddenly reminded of Tengen’s size. “Uh sure,” your neighbour says. He glances at you. “Sorry.”

You don’t get a chance to respond because Tengen leads you away, arm still around you and heads towards your building. 

“You’re not going out anywhere, are you? Thought we could order in. Unless you want to go out. Karaoke?” 

“Are we going to invite the girls?”

He grins at you. “Of course!”

Bonus!

Tengen & his wives!

You hear the squeal first and then Suma crashes into you. You hug the woman back, used to how affectionate she is. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask,  completely distracted from the situation with your neighbour as you look to see Makio and Hinatsuru heading towards you.

“We missed you!” Suma says, pulling back. 

“Will you let her go?” Makio demands, yanking Suma back as they get close. “You’re interrupting!” 

“Sorry!” Suma lets go. “I was just excited!”

“It has been a while since we’ve seen you,” Hina agrees. She looks over at your neighbour before turning back to you. “Sorry for interrupting. We hope you don’t mind that we dropped by unannounced.” 

“Not at all,” you smile at the three women that now surround you. Makio has shifted, taking point to be in between you all and your neighbour. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I bet,” Makio says. There’s a brief moment where you all communicate silently with each other. The slight widening of the eyes, the nod and shifting of the shoulders. The way friends have communicated about the people around them for ages without words. It’s enough that the three women are all aware that you’re uncomfortable and are grateful for their help. 

“Excuse me.”

They all turn to look at your neighbour who looks delighted at the sudden prospect of more women to interact with. It probably helps that all three of the new ones are gorgeous, well-endowed and wearing low-cut tops. 

“What?” Makio asks, unimpressed. Suma shifts slightly to stand closer to you. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says before introducing himself. The women all stare at the hand he offers but none of them reach to take it. He pauses before finally dropping it, but he steps closer. “We were just getting to know each other,” he says. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?” 

No, you think. You don’t get a chance to answer though because Makio turns her back on the man and faces you again. “Have you eaten?” Makio asks. 

“Oh yeah!” Suma grabs your arm and you feel a rush of affection for these women who have shown up and are trying to help. “If you have, we could get dessert!” 

“You’re not busy, are you?” Hina asks.

“No,” you shake your head. 

“Hey!” your neighbour cuts in again. “There’s no reason to be a bitch. You could have just said you were into girls. I wouldn’t have minded…especially if I can watch.”

Your jaw drops open and you can see the way the others nearly shake with anger. Before any of them can step forward, your attention is drawn behind him as Tengen appears.

“Oh ho! What’s this?” His hand slaps down on your neighbour's shoulder. You can see his grip tighten. “I didn’t just hear you call them something so unflashy, did I?” 

“Tengen!” You all call out, your voice tinged with a little more relief. As glad as you are for the company of the girls, you don’t want to subject them to your neighbour more than you have to. 

Tengen grins at the four of you before focusing back on the man he’s holding. “Now, what were you saying?” 

“What? Nothing!” 

“Liar!” Makio snaps. 

“He called her a bitch, Tengen,” Hina says softly. She loops her arm around yours on the side that doesn’t have Suma. 

“He said he wanted to watch!” Suma adds. 

“Oh really?” Tengen’s eyes narrow. “Perhaps you girls should go ahead and I’ll catch up…after I teach this one some manners.” 

“Good,” Makio nods.

“We’ll let you know where we decide to go,” Hina says softly. “Come on.” The girls usher you away from the building where Tengen is still keeping your neighbour in place. The man looks slightly terrified now but Tengen waves you all off with a grin. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Suma exclaims, still keeping her arm around yours as they walk. 

“Yeah,” Makio agrees. “How long has that creep been bothering you?”

“He’s been staring for a while but just came out of nowhere today, telling me he liked me and wanted to go out. He said he’s an alcoholic but would stop for me.” You see the look the women give each other. 

“Maybe you should stay with us,” Hina suggests. “Just for a bit.”

“Yeah!” 

You laugh slightly. “I don’t know. I’ll have to go home eventually, right? I’m sure he got the point.” 

An arm wraps around your shoulder as Tengen appears, inserting himself between you and Suma. He laughs as you both adjust to the new position. “He sure did!” He towers over all of you but Tengen has never felt threatening. At least not to you. “He won’t be bothering you anymore. And if he’s still staring, call us. We’ll deal with him,” he promises. 

You smile up at him. “Thank you.” 

“You don’t have to thank us,” Hinatsuru says softly. “We’re happy to help.”

“Yeah!” Makio adds. “He’s lucky Tengen showed up before I got to him.”

“I don’t know about that…” Tengen says, “but I know I am with such flashy girls!”

AND

Tanjiro, Nezuko, Zenitsu and Inosuke

The man is holding your hand in a light grip that tightens as you try to pull away. You’re trying not to be rude but his hand is clammy and you never wanted to be touched. You have a feeling you’re going to have to snap and then deal with the repercussions later. 

Your attention shifts to the sound of feet hitting the pavement and a familiar voice calling your name. You yank your hand from your neighbour before turning and moving back, managing to avoid Inosuke’s attempt at a tackle. You shift and watch as Zenitsu falls, his attempts to hug you failing. You’re used to these kids and at this point, it’s a game when you meet. 

Zenitsu whines at your avoidance. 

“Haha!” Inosuke slides to a stop and turns back to you. “You won’t avoid me again!” 

“Stop tackling her!” 

You ignore Zenitsu and Inosuke as they start arguing and turn to Tanjiro and Nezuko as they stop next to you. “What are you all doing here?” 

“I hope you don’t mind,” Tanjiro says softly. “We were passing by and saw you. We thought we’d stop and say hi. I tried to get them to stop from running at you. Sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” you wave him off. “I’m glad to see you.” Nezuko moves forward and offers a hug and you hug back, noticing the way Tanjiro moves between you and your neighbour. Your gaze softens. He’s such a good kid. They all are. 

“It’s been awhile,” Tanjiro agrees. 

“Excuse me,” your neighbour cuts in, moving around Tanjiro. “Didn’t realize you were so popular with children. Are you related?” 

“No,” you say, not willing to give more than that. 

“Who are you?” Inosuke shoves himself between you and your neighbour. You can see the man trying to move around the kid, but Inosuke has a way of making himself known. “Fight me!” he demands. 

“What? I’m not going to fight a kid.” Your neighbour looks for you but you let go of Nezuko who raises her eyebrows, silently asking if you’re okay. 

You nod back, smiling at the girl. 

“You think you’ll beat me?” Inosuke says. “You couldn’t touch me. I’m the greatest!” 

“Who is that?” Zenitsu asks quietly, coming up to your side now that Inosuke is distracted. “Do you know him?”

“He’s my neighbour,” you say. “He was just…introducing himself.” You wince as you say it. 

“You didn’t seem comfortable. Do you want to leave?” Tanjiro asks, focused on you as Inosuke drags your neighbour to more open space in his demands to fight. “We can walk you to where you’re going. Or inside,” he offers. 

“Thanks.” You smile in relief, even if they’re just kids, you’re grateful you’re no longer alone. 

“Fuck off!” All of your attention turns to the sound of your neighbour yelling at Inosuke. “You freak!” 

“Excuse me?” You move around the children, striding towards your neighbour. To hell with being polite. “What did you just say?” He turns to you, surprise crossing his features as though he’s forgotten you were there. 

“I–I was just–”

“Just what?” You snap. “He’s a kid and you’re swearing at him?”

“He’s not leaving me alone! I’m trying to talk to you!”

“I don’t want to talk!” You stride forward, aware of the eyes on you. “I haven’t shown the slightest interest and you kept pushing and trying to touch me!” His eyes widen but you don’t stop. “They’re fifteen! And they have more sense and observation than you do. You don’t treat people like that, even if they’re annoying and you don’t keep pushing your attention on to someone who doesn’t want it!” 

“I’m sorry,” he reaches for you again.

“Fuck off!” you use his own words against him. “Come on, Inosuke, don’t waste your time fighting him. You’d likely win in seconds. Let’s go.” You turn and walk back toward the others. 

“You’re so cool!” Zenitsu cheers as you return.

“That was impressive,” Tanjiro agrees. “Hopefully he’ll listen.”

“If he doesn’t, I’ll come back and show him how weak he is!” 

You smile at Inosuke and reach out to ruffle his hair. He ducks out of the way. “Thanks. Come on, let’s get out of here. You guys want to walk me to my friends?”

“Yeah!” 

“Let’s go!”

“I’m going to get there first!” 

“What!? Wait for us!”

taglist: @raith-way @chrissymunson @veetlegeuse  @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse 

#fic: dealing with unwanted attention #hashira x reader #hashira reactions #uzui tengen x reader #kyojuro x reader #gyomei x reader #shinobu x reader #giyu x reader #obanai x mitsuri x reader #sort of #demon slayer fic #kimetsu no yaiba fic #this is just me wishing i had help dealing with this situation lol #also how the hell do i tag this?? #demon slayer

[forgwater]

Bleeding Hearts

~Bleeding Hearts Masterlist~

Vil x (gn)Reader

Warnings: This story contains yandere themes and behaviors.

a/n: I now realize how ironic it is that the randomizer choose Vil for the second fic of the series oof-

The last thing you expected today was to be invited to Pomefiore to provide Vil your help for his artistic pursuits. He’s promised you a reward worthy of your efforts, so how could you refuse such an offer?

Once you pass through the magic mirror, you head towards the ancient apple trees. Majestic green crowns cover you from the Suns prying rays. Their red, richly colored fruits beckon you pick them.

But you must resist.

‘Take a bite’ they say ‘you know you want to’ comes their bewitching remark. It’s enough to leave your cheeks feeling as hot as they are red.

Just-

“There you are.” Vils voice snaps you out of your trance and embarrassment covers you whole. You must’ve taken a while since he came here to find you himself.

“I’m sorry, I-“ but you are interrupted.

“No need for excuses.” He speaks firmly. “I wasn’t fully expecting you to find the pathway I told you about. It’s a bit too hidden for that.”

“Oh…” well, now you feel silly.

“Then, dear prefect, how about you accompany me to our designated meeting place? You are late after all.” The blond sends you a subtle smirk, accompanied only by a quiet chuckle.

“Right. Let’s.” that’s all Vil needed to start walking towards the secret little nook he chose as your meeting spot.

A pathway to the right, a sharp left. Pass this tree and then that tree. Don’t trip on that rock! Really, potato, you need to be more careful.

“Here, hold my hand, that way I can make sure you don’t fall.” You hesitate.

“….Is this really necessary? I’m fine.” Vil didn’t seem to like that very much, if his raised eyebrow is anything to go by.

“I offered.” He takes hold of your hand in a secure yet comfortable hold. “Don’t tell me you’re getting shy.” The blond teases. “And only from this little too…”

“Hey!” you fight back. Your dignity’s on the line here!

“A fighting cry from someone flustered by hand holding.” He’s enjoying this a little too much.

Fortunately for him, you’re too preoccupied with his little flirty jabs to tell just how loud and fast his own heart is beating. You haven’t noticed any of that! Have you?!

“This is so unfair.” Oh, you haven’t. Good.

“Oh? Is it? I don’t think it is.~” he plays.

Before you can speak your indignations further, you are met with brick walls. Then a magnificent vine covered entrance. Vil leads you inward and you can tell this used to be a room of some kind, that knowledge now lost to time.

“This is it.” the blond announces. “I picked this place because it will work well for the scene.”

“The scene?” you question.

“We’ll be reciting lines from a script and acting some scenes together.” Vil pauses and then continues quickly “I thought acting together might help my performance a bit… you don’t have to be perfect; you just need to be here. So, don’t think too much of it.” he tries to reassure you. You don’t seem very reassured so he continues his attempts:

“Try to relax. I won’t judge your acting… too harshly.” At the end of his sentence he faces you fully, his hands now on your arms, he slightly smooths over your clothing. “Very well, let us go sit down.”

The grey stone bench fits both of you as you take your places. After you take a deep breath, you are met with a few papers.

“Your lines are highlighted. I want you to read them out loud to me.”

“Shouldn’t I read them silently first?”

“No. I want to hear your intonation as you read the text for the first time.” He insists.

You’ve come this far; you’ve got no choice but to comply. So you begin:

“-You’ve worked so hard… and done so much-…. for us…-” you shift uncomfortably.

“Don’t stop.” Vil commands, his scrutinizing gaze bores deeply into your very being.

“Vil- Is this… are the characters supposed to be in love?”

No answer. The blonds jaw visibly flexes at your inquiry… or maybe at your refusal to continue reading. Quite disobedient, aren’t you?

With his arms crossed, he tells you again:

“Keep reading.” It does not feel like a request.

“No.” you refuse him once again.

“What? Are you afraid of a little text about one’s characters love for another?” he mocks “I thought you agreed to this little rehearsal? Have you changed your mind? Are you backing out?” he barrages you with questions he does not expect an answer to.

“…No. I haven’t.” you bite your tongue.

“Then, read this line.” He tells you simply, pointing further down on the page. You swallow thickly. Vil taps the line impatiently and you can’t look him in the eyes as you try your best to read.

“-…Your qualities, your beauty… seen and unseen-… have made me. Fall in love with… you…-“ your cheeks feel warm and you want the ground to swallow you whole. The air hangs heavy and you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“There. It wasn’t so hard, now was it?” Vil takes this moment to redirect your gaze to his own with nothing but his index finger and thumb on your chin. “I can excuse the insincerity. For now.”

What is he talking about?!

You glare, questions obvious on your expression. But, before you can talk, he fixates you with his stare, reducing you to silence.

“You will have to recite it again and again until you can confess sincerely.”

“Confess?!” you splutter.

“Yes. Is that too much to ask of the one I adore?” he accuses more than asks. “I could confess to you myself, but that would break the curse.”

…Curse…?....

“Oh, you didn’t think I’d take chances with this kind of thing, now did you?” Vil closes the distance between the two of you as he whispers in your ear: “Letting you leave me would be my most grave mistake.

He breathes deeply, truly pleased with his accomplishment.

“You are mine.”

#twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #vil shoenheit #vil x reader #twst vil #twst vil x reader #yandere vil #yandere x reader #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere vil x reader #yandere vil schoenheit x reader #gn reader #x reader #gender neutral reader #x gn reader

[absolutelynotmate-archive]

you gotta move, or move on- c.leclerc

love is so short, forgetting is so long pairing: charles leclerc x female reader word count: 5.5k warnings: angsty slay I'VE MOVED BLOGS! if you enjoy this and are looking for more, follow me @formulaforza

You were seventeen when your parents picked up your entire life and moved to the tiniest, most congested country they could have possibly chosen. You’d vacationed there, spent your summers there for years, and you’re the first to admit it’s beautiful. Paris is beautiful, too. Home is beautiful in a way Monte Carlo will never be because home belongs to you. 

You’re a transplant in Monaco; a foreign organism who doesn't know the streets, the places, the people. You weren’t done with school, you had a whole year left. Why couldn’t your parents hold off for twelve months? Wait until you were in University and could stay where you belonged, let you choose your own path? You had to get familiar with a new city and a new school, new friends, new teachers. 

That’s where you met him, sort of. Through school, not at school. He was friends with your friends, but you’d never seen him at school before. A driver, Formula 3, they told you. It meant nothing to you considering you’d never followed racing, and weren’t going to start now. He’s really good, you didn’t care, not really. You were with your new friends, and he was there, rarely, occasionally, always a big deal when he showed up. 

Then, he was doing something else, somewhere else, and winning all of the time. He’s going to get promoted, everyone was always saying, always watching his races on their phones and on their laptops and on their televisions. You were riding along with your friends–his friends–to all of these European races. You’lldo anything for a vacation when you’re a teenager. You picked up on the obvious things pretty quickly, learned more about the intricate details in the grandstands; while you wouldn’t call yourself invested, you weren’t comatose while watching the races, either. 

You think that’s what he liked about you, what sparked the interest in the first place. Half of the girls your age at home were throwing themselves at him, trying to land him before he made it big. That’s what they always tell you about athletes, you have to get in before they really make it or else you won’t ever mean anything to them, they want you to prove your loyalty to them. You think he saw you, all passive and unbothered by race results–good or bad–and it intrigued him. It’s the only plausible explanation in your head, because he had his pick of the litter and you’ve never considered yourself the smartest, the prettiest, the best at anything, really. He could have had the best, but he chose you. 

It started off with these weird glances, ones where you’d catch each other’s eyes all of the fucking time. It was always so awkward, like you’d caught each other doing something wrong. Your eyes would dart away to another friend, to the sky, to your shoelaces, and your stomach would get all tangled in itself. You always felt like apologizing, like when two people are trying to move out of each other’s way and they both step to the same side; an awkward smile and a muted apology and then you think about it for the rest of the day because the whole thing was so mortifying. 

Then it was conversations, ones you’d never had before and always about nothing important. The two of you were friend-adjacent, at best, but now you were always lingering at the back of the group. Ending up sitting in the restaurant booth for a beat longer than everyone else, waiting for the other to fill their plate before finding a place to sit. You’d talk about school, about your plans for the future, about missing Paris and he’d talk about racing, about his dreams, about missing Monaco. You live here, you’d always say to him. 

Barely, he’d always reply, the better I get the less time I have. 

At some point the group meetings became one-on-one. A restaurant you’d never heard of, one he swore had the best food in the entire world. A coffee shop you wanted to try, one he knew nothing about because he didn’t drink coffee. He didn’t tell you that until you were ordering and you felt foolish, but then he ordered a hot tea and you sat at a little table and talked some more about nothing. You took him to Paris once during Fashion Week, because you had a family friend who had a show. You showed him around and even though he’d been a million times, he let you because he liked the way you talked. Alwayssaid there was something sweet about your voice. Like candy, he said, after you pointed out the bus stop you sat at every day before school as a child, after you asked him why he was smiling like an idiot. That’s when you realized you had a crush on him– in Paris by the old bus stop. 

“We’re not dating,” the two of you told friends for two months, even though the only thing that made the statement true was the lack of a label. You were doing everything people who date do. Suddenly, they were asking, and you were smiling and blushing and gushing all the details of just how he’d asked you to make it official. 

You got into a fight in May, because he heard from one of your friends you were going to University in Monaco. It hurt that he heard it from someone that wasn’t you but it hurt more that you were staying. You haven’t shut up about going back to Paris since I met you, he said, over the phone because he was away at a race. Why aren’t you going to Paris? You felt like a Gilmore girl, a Jess and Rory original. 

“You live here”, you said, like always. 

“Barely,” he replied, like always. 

That was precisely it, though. If he could barely make it back to his home, how could you ever expect him to have time to come see you in yours? 

You ended up going back to Paris, reluctant that he’d be able to fulfill his promises to come see you. When you packed your boxes of things into the trunk of your car, part of you knew it was just the beginning of the end. The rest of you pretended it wasn’t, carried on with red eyes to Monaco and weekend studying done on trains following him around for two trips around the sun. 

You’ve always prided yourself on being realistic, it’s what you thought helped draw him to you in the first place. But, you were coming to learn he needed optimism, the undying and unrelenting kind that you were never going to be capable of providing. You weren’t the kind of person that could watch him drive for shit and pretend he didn’t. You drove for shit, you would tell him, only if it was true and then he’d get all passive aggressive and close doors with more force than necessary and sigh dramatically every five minutes. You weren’t a villain about it, you were still his biggest cheerleader, next race you’ve got it, I know you’re better than this, but you were honest. You’d always be honest, and it was dragging him down. 

He’d be better off, you thought, if he could have his choice again and find someone who was coded in a way that built him up instead of tearing him down. If you were smarter, prettier, better at all of it, you think you could be what he needs, that you’d be able to adapt and change the way you thought for him. You weren’t those things, though, you were just you. 

So calls became short, time zones felt greater, and he never did come see you in Paris. You lost touch with your friends in Monaco, a year, unsurprisingly, does little to form life-long friendships. He kept in touch with them, was always so much better at relationships than you were. Charles would talk about them all of the time, about how much they were helping him, how good they could make him feel. It always made you sad, knowing you were never going to be enough. 

I feel like I barely know you anymore, you said once, on the phone, in the middle of the night because it was the only time you got calls from him anymore. He’s in America, racing with Sauber now and you haven’t been to a single race outside of Monaco. 

I can’t wait for your wedding, one of his friends, an old, once upon a time friend of yours said sometime that weekend. I bet he proposes, soon. You knew he wouldn’t, knew you were treading dangerously close to the extinction line. Your relationship was teetering on a cliff and waiting for a gust of wind, a breath of fresh air, a cold–hearted shove to push you over the edge and into a fiery explosion of doom, death, all other bad things. You dragged out the end of the call, worried the earlier admission would make it your last for a while. I wish you were here, you said and he didn’t reiterate the sentiment. 

You never remembered Paris as being so cloudy, so chilled, so rainy. All of the colors felt gray and muted and you just wanted to be with him, wherever he was. The U.S, China, Monaco. He was everywhere but with you, and you were furious and depressed and bratty and selfish about it. Home is a person, as cheesy as it is true, you’d come to learn. 

If you knew this is how it would have gone, you never would have conceded, you would have gone to school in Monaco and everything would be perfect. If you knew, you would have learned everything there was to know about Formula 3 all those years ago. You would have studied it like your life depended on it and would’ve become a fan girl and he never would have found you relevant or interesting and all of this could have been avoided. You didn’t do any of those things, though because you never could have known you were going to fall in love. Allgrandiose and emotional and comfortable. You never could have predicted you’d be counting sheep to spend time with him. You never could have known, never could have prepared. 

You tried to fix it, you did. Some things just aren’t repairable. You called more often, you tried to get more time off work and blew all your money traveling. When you were together, it was so good. It was never hard to share space with him, to occupy the same air. That was the easiest part. That was why it was worth trying to fix, all the conversations about nothing and everything, about your dreams and his dreams, about the future neither of you fully believed you’d share. It was lovely in the chaos and it was pure in the silence. 

We have to be at rock bottom, you told him, teary eyed on the sofa of a hotel suite on a Monday morning. You were packing your bags, you back to France, him to the next race. You just started crying, out of nowhere, while you were folding your underwear. He laughed at first, but you didn’t stop crying. The thought of going back to being apart was one you couldn’t grapple with, refused to come to terms with because it was so bad when you were away. A shredded heart apart, a mended wound together. The pain of it was becoming unbearable. 

You moved back to Monaco. It felt like the only thing left to do, a last resort. All those times he told you he was barely there, he wasn’t lying. He was away from Monaco the same as he was away from Paris. “You love me,” you teased him over Facetime, cooking dinner, making horrible jokes, trying with all your might to make it all better. 

“I love you,” he said, rehearsed and bored and unamused. Reminded, maybe, by your words that he was supposed to love you. Every word for the rest of the night feels like checking the expiration date on a bottle of something you don’t remember buying and can’t identify. 

Winter break, he was back home for the holidays, to see his family, to see you. You didn’t want to do it then, but it felt like the only option. “I’ve had enough,” you said to him, among a million other things. 

“I understand,” he told you, and you knew it was really over because he didn’t try to fight for you, to convince you otherwise. If he had tried, you would have let him, would have caved, you know it. 

“We can still be friends,” you offered, a concession prize because being with him really was that great. It was all the complicated long-distance relationship dynamics that killed what you had, what you still have. 

“I don’t want to be friends.” 

You cried, he cried, and when you went to his apartment three days later to pack up the things you had there, you found a little velvet box on the top shelf of the closet. Curiosity killed the cat, and you opened it, instantly regretted it, memorized the diamond ring inside, closed it and returned it to it’s original spot and never told another person. You should have said no, but you would’ve said yes. 

There won’t be too many drunk calls, you hoped, from either of you. A clean breakup. You figured it wouldn’t be long before he moved on, before you saw on social media that he was walking the paddock with a girl who could give him everything he needed, everything you couldn’t. You thought it would make you happy, to see him happy and fulfilled and with a partner that was better suited to him. 

She looks just like you. Your sister texted you at the beginning of the next season. He was a hot shot now, the promised prince who would be bringing Ferrari to glory again. He was also walking through the paddock with another girl. 

Il Predestinato, the predestined. You wondered if it held any truth. Wondering if the universe had it all planned out, if every single thing that has ever happened to him, including you, was all a part of some master plan. If it is, the universe is sick, you think. 

He looks happy, good for him. You replied, cried for four hours, soaked shirt and sheets and pillowcase. You could have kept going if you had any tears left to give, but you used them all up scrolling through social media, doom spiraling until you found out who she was, found her twitter, found her Instagram, scrolled to the bottom of her tagged photos, learned the name of her sister and what color dress she’d worn in Italy with her teenage boyfriend. You needed to know all of it, because he was your teenage boyfriend before long before he ever belonged to her.

You never thought of Monaco as a small town, but, now that you’re expecting to find a ghost around every corner, to spot his car on every street, the fucking country has never felt smaller. You’re claustrophobic here, everything reminds you of him, his picture is everywhere. Formula One is everywhere. Your friends, the ones you’d reconnected with since moving back, they were his friends first. 

They act like nothing’s changed, like they’ve chosen your side when they clearly haven’t. You wonder how long they all knew about his new girl, how long they’ve been together, how long it took him to move on. You expected it to be quick, but God, it’s barely been a few months and he’s already comfortable enough subjecting her to the media circus. 

You try to go out, to drown your sorrows with the girls who aren’t really your friends. The nightlife is always bustling here, but every club feels empty without him there. Everyshot needs a partner and every fruity drink needs him stealing sips and refusing to admit he likes it. Your friends try to cheer you up, and guys try to hit on you, but you feel like a shell of a person. Justfloating around without purpose. Floating, waiting, hoping it’s all a nightmare. 

You don’t run into him, thank God. You run into Pascale and Arthur, though, which is arguably so, so much worse. It’s just on the street, they’re heading to the grocery store, one of them tells you. You’re walking to nowhere, from nowhere. Pascale hugs you and you think you might burst into tears. We miss you, she says, and it fuels the jealous ball of guilt in your soul for another day. 

I miss you guys, too, you said, and meant it. You wondered if any of them knew about the ring. Charles was never one to keep a secret, he was historically terrible at it, it was endearing. Arthur was almost hard to look at, the same eyes, the same voice. Identical laughs, all nervous and short, the same face, practically. “How’s Lorenzo?” You asked, because you couldn’t ask about Charles. 

You walked home, passed his building and wished you were dead so any trace of your relationship could be buried with you. You tried to pretend you didn’t know the cracks on the sidewalk, that you didn’t have each and every one memorized from walking the same steps so many times. 

Home is just as haunting as the streets are. He’d helped you pick out the apartment, went to look at this one with you and said he’d never forgive you if you didn’t lock it in. You ate pizza on the living room floor, before you had any furniture at all, before you even had an internet connection. Sauce dripped from your slice onto the floor and he hurriedly grabbed a napkin to wipe it off the wood floors. You can’t afford to lose your deposit, idiot, he told you, smiled like a goofball and wiped the sauce on your face. 

The whole place sings of him, the walls have heard his favorite songs played over, and over, and over again. He picked that paint color, helped you put it on the wall and raced to see who could finish their side first. You deleted his playlist from your phone, along with all the pictures and the videos, but the memories still linger, stunt your healing and stick into your life like a stubborn splinter. 

You buy out your lease the next week, move back to Paris and stay with a friend until you can get a place of your own. It’s good for you, the best, being away from a place that was never really yours. It allows you to pick up the pieces and move forward, to not spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been, what might have fixed things. 

Paris gives you clarity, makes it impossible to be angry at him because it wasn’t anyone’s fault. There’s nothing anyone could have done, the universe itself never would have been able to intervene. It was just young love, all poetic and film-inspiring and heartbreak song-inducing. Innocent and infuriating and codependent and convoluted. Your first heartbreak, the first real, gut-wrenching experience with losing a love, it’s always like this. The movies and the songs proved that. You just didn’t experience that loss until you were in your early twenties. Distance allows you to recognize that. Having the same aching pain settled so deep in your chest would have been unbearable if you were any younger. You were lucky, as sick and twisted as it felt.

He swears to God he saw you during the podium in Monza. A flash of your hair, your eyes, he blinks and it’s gone, you’re gone. A figment of his imagination, he tries to convince himself he’s seeing things in the chaos of winning Ferrari’s home race, but, he can’t shake it, the feeling that you’re here. 

You’d come to a race at Monza, a million years ago, 2016. It was a sprint race and he retired. It’s okay, all of his friends told him. All of them except you. You didn’t say anything, just smiled and gave him the same awkward hug you always did. “What did you think about the race?” He asked you.

“It was whatever.” You’d shrugged. “Shit for you, I suppose.” It was right there. That’s the moment he pinpointed, the exact second he decided he wanted to know you better, that he needed to prove himself to you, show you just how interesting his life could be. He always figured he would tell your kids the story one day, that he’d mention it in his wedding vows and get a spattering of laughs from the guests. 

That was the last time you were in Monza together. That’s why he was seeing you in the crowd, he was projecting, surely. He asks his brother, his mother, if they saw you. They give him strange looks and ask him if he’s okay because, why would you be here? 

You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t be here, he keeps telling himself. He half expects to find you in his drivers room, or lingering by the coffee machine in hospitality. You’ve never even been inside the Ferrari motorhomes, but, he thinks you’d look so familiar in there, like he wouldn’t bat an eye seeing you. 

His mind races, and he feels like a teenager again. Like no time at all has passed and you and he are painfully in love and it’s stupid and young and lovely.  “What’s going on in your head?” His girlfriend asks him, playing with his hair like you used to. 

“Nobody.” He says, slips up unconsciously, because he doesn’t want to start an argument. 

“Nobody?” She says, that incessant whine in her voice that drives him up a wall. He sighs, because she’s gearing up for a fight. He wonders if it’s too late to crash his car into the barrier, pull a few dozen G’s and have an excuse for perfectly teeing her up. 

He runs into you at a Christmas party that winter. It’s the anniversary of the end of you two and he wonders if you remember as vividly as he does. One year without each other, a date he never thought he’d remember. A date he never thought would come. 

You’ve got a guy with you, who just told the worst joke he’s heard in a while. You laugh, because you’re sweet, but he knows you don’t think it’s funny–knows your laugh too well, worked hard to hear it for too many years. 

He watches the two of you, studies you, wonders if he looks as foolish with his new girlfriend as you look with your new boyfriend. It’s painfully obvious, he thinks, how unhappy you are, how ungenuine you appear. That’s not your smile, not your drink, not your favorite pair of heels. 

“Hi,” he says when he finds you in the kitchen of the house party, alone. “It’s good to see you,” A lie. He’d almost turned around and walked right back out the door when he saw you. You, with someone who wasn’t him. 

“Yeah, you too,” you said, also a lie. He knows you, whether you like it or not. 

“So, new guy, huh?” Awkward. So fucking awkward. You nod. “Nice.” He sips his drink. 

“Are you seeing anyone?” You asked, and he thought there was no way you didn’t know. No way you’d gone unalerted to your doppelganger walking the grid. Surely, someone told you. Your sister, likely, maybe a friend. 

“Uh,” he scratches the back of his neck because his hands don’t feel like they belong to him. He doesn’t know where to put them. “Yeah,” he nods. “Yeah.” She’s nothing like you, he wants to say. Wonders if it would do more harm or good, if you’d read his words as an admission that you are irreplaceable or if you’d see them as an insult. 

“Great.” You say, smile, and it might be genuine. He’s startled that he can’t read it precisely, forced to confront the notion that he doesn’t know you like he once did. Beat after beat of silence, tense and awkward and strange. He was more comfortable when you were breaking up with him than he is right now. “Do you hate me?” You finally spoke, and his heart broke a little. It broke a lot, but, your heart isn’t his to break anymore. That’s what he keeps telling himself, anyway. 

It hurts to say your name, the air rips its way out of his lungs and through his vocal cords and gets caught in the back of his throat, again on the tip of his tongue. “I could never hate you.” He wishes he could. He’s tried, time and time again to hate you, to loathe you for existing. You tore him into a million tiny pieces and sprinkled them in every corner of the earth, hid them in the deepest nooks and the tightest crannies. Destroyed some, just for the hell of it. Then, you sent him on his way, handed him a bottle of glue, a good luck in the form of we can still be friends and expected him to be fine. 

He knew–was able to recognize now–that he was far from perfect. Far, far from it. He was distant and pushed you away and was a complete ass, but fuck, he loved you more than he knew. You hurt him more than anyone would ever know. 

There are few things as sobering as returning an engagement ring to the jeweler. It’s a sympathetic look he’ll never forget, and even then he knew he couldn’t blame you, that the blame lied solely on him for fucking it all up. His mom cried when he told her, called him an idiot in three languages, told him he needed to fix it, that you were worth it. I know, Mama, he told her, I know, but I can’t fix this. 

He broke up with your twin a few weeks later because no matter how hard he tried, there was no replicating you. He wondered how long it would be before word got to you, if you’d even care when it did. 

He hated being home, now. Monaco was a nightmare, you were all over his place, all over the most important years of his life. Your smell could be erased from the sheets with a few washes, but the grease stain you left on the corner of the couch? The one you cried about and apolgized for everytime you saw it? There’s no getting rid of it. 

He cleaned out his closet a couple weeks ago, after all these years. Your name was written in pink marker on the wall, behind a bunch of shoe boxes. You were here, 2017, it read, and he spent thirty minutes going over it with a Magic Eraser only for it to be just as vibrant as before. 

There was one time, before he broke up with his girlfriend, where he caught himself just before saying your name into her shoulder. The first syllable slipped and he had to pretend it was a nonsensical shuddered breath. He’s fallen into more of a monthly rotation since then, keeps them around until it becomes glaringly apparent they’ll never fill the shoes you left behind. Flavors of the month. It works well enough, distracts him well enough. 

The more removed he becomes from you, the cloudier the memories become. Clarity, people tell him he needs it, but, the haze distracts him just the same. He can forget you for a while, live his life without looking for you in everyone who tries to buy him a drink. Distractions come in the form of driving, of friends, of family. In the form of a girl who looks nothing like you, who speaks nothing like you, who acts nothing like you. It won’t last, he knows it won’t but he can’t find you anywhere in her and it’s refreshing. 

This is so weird, I totally get if you say no, she texted him late one night. But, do you want to go to a wedding with me in a couple weeks? He should say no, he thinks. Committing to a wedding in a couple weeks is committing to being interested in a couple weeks and he can’t guarantee that. It’s commitment he can’t make and that’s if you disregard all the implications of going with someone to a wedding. It’s like the first rule of dating, you don’t go to a wedding together if you don’t see things lasting. 

It’s too romantic, there’s too much love flying around. He’ll be catching side eyes all night from her, longing glances that make everything weird. The bouquet toss will be taken just a little too seriously for two people who are casually dating. 

It’s too weird, right? She says after a few long minutes of radio silence. 

No, not weird. He replies. Sounds like a good time.

That’s how he ends up there, believe it or not. The sickest fucking coincidence in the world, he thinks, standing in front of this intricate sign. It bore your name, your fiance’s name, written in delicate script. 

There’s no way, he thinks. There is no fucking way. “How do you know them, again?” He asks the girl on his arm. 

“My mom is friends with the Groom’s mom. We grew up together.” She says, smiley and lovely and perfectly dressed. There is no fucking way this is his reality. He has to be dreaming, stuck in a nightmare, surely. Even the universe isn’t this fucked up. 

This isn’t the wedding you always talked about wanting, the one you daydreamed about when you were feeling particularly in love. It’s not the one he planned on giving you. There’s so many people here, it’s not like you. I want something intimate, you told him once. I want to love everyone there. You never would have had a family friend’s plus-one in attendance. 

“Hey,” She says, flashes him a flask in her purse. “You wanna do a shot?”

God, you have no idea. “Yeah.” 

You’ll cry when you see me, you told him. If you don’t, I’ll turn around and do it again. He thinks about that when you’re standing with your dad at the top of the aisle, beaming, glowing. Your dress is the most you thing he’s ever seen–fits you right in every spot, classy and spunky and traditional and fun all at the same time. He looks to the end of the long aisle, to your groom. He’s smiling, has his hands crossed behind his back and laughs, no tears. 

He tries not to stare, because he doesn’t want to catch your eye, to catch your father’s eye, but it’s so hard when you look like that. “She looks so beautiful,” His date leans into him and whispers, doesn’t look at him. A good thing she doesn’t, too, because his eyes are bloodshot. 

“Yeah,” He says, blinks away a tear. 

You’re giddy at the reception. The bar serves two cocktails–his and hers mixed drinks. His date drinks yours, and he steals a sip and it’s fruity and sweet. “Can I have another shot?” He asks, and she subtly slides her flask to him under the table. 

His eyes can’t stop finding you, watching you all dopey and smiley while you hug everyone and talk with grand expressions. You’re making the rounds, and he slips away before you and your new husband make it to his table. 

Your sister catches him by the bathrooms. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know.” He says, chuckles at his shit luck because there’s nothing else he can do.

“No, Charles.” She says it firmer this time, like he’s in trouble, which–understandable. “Why are you, here?”

“My, uh.” He twists the ring on his pinky. “The girl I’m seeing, I’m her plus-one.”

She looks nervous, your sister, like she’s fraternizing with the enemy and at any given moment someone is going to catch her and take her head. “Has she seen you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You can’t be here.” She’s practically whispering, grabbing his arm and pulling him behind a corner. 

“You’re telling me.” He laughs, because he’s about to cry at the wedding of the girl he thought he was going to marry. He’s going to cry at your wedding, just like you always said he would. 

“I mean it. You need to leave.”

He cocks his head, she’s not serious. She’s just being a good sister. “Come on, don’t you–”

“Charles.” She says it soft, cracked and sad. There is so much unsaid. “Leave.”

He nods. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He doesn’t know how he’s going to explain this one away, but, he has the walk from the bathrooms to the reception hall to figure it out. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

And he does–go. He goes, and wonders for the rest of his life what would’ve happened if he stayed.

#f1 #f1 angst #f1 fluff #f1 one shot #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #cl16 #f1 2022 #f1 fanfiction #f1 2023 #f1 smut #f1 fic #f1 x reader #ferrari

[jeansplaytoy]

“Ain’t Shit.” - c.springer

(part three here.) (part five here.)

part 4

when you and your ex boyfriend, connie, don’t know what to do from what might’ve been your last argument.

crying, fluff, mentions of toxicity/cheating/arguing, angst over comfort.

this is kinda short i’m so sorry :( .

“y/n.”

you stared out of onys car window for the second time. you didn’t wanna talk to anyone or say anything. how could he just not care like that? you didn’t really support how things were going normally, but the way his attitude just completely changed.

“y/n.”

“hm?”

“we here.”

you looked forward to see your house and you inhaled before nodding. “thank you.” you said before stepping out of ony’s car and walking up your driveway. you pulled out your key and twisted the lock to your door, unlocking it and entering your house.

you closed it behind you and locked it, tossing the rest of your things to the side and walking over to the kitchen, opening your fridge. you didn’t even have the taste for anything at this point.

you don’t know why, but everything pissed you off.

that’s when you heard your front door rattle. you frowned, looking back and waiting for whoever was about to enter. “who the fuck…” you whispered to yourself before seeing someone finally enter. and it kind of wasn’t a surprise.

“connie.” you mumbled.

he raised his head a little to greet you before turning to close the door and lock it behind him. “how’d you get in here?” you frowned a little. “key.” he said before throwing it to you. you caught the key and placed it beside you.

“okay. what you doin here now?” you asked calmly.

he pursed his lips together before shrugging, walking over to the kitchen. “ion know. why you think i’m here?” he asked. you sighed, hopping on the island counter lazily, letting your legs hang over. “ion know, but i also don’t have time for guessing games.” you said quietly.

“good. cus i don’t either.” he mumbled before sitting on the counter across from the one you were on.

you stared at each other for some good seconds before you looked down at the floor, not being able to even look him in the eye. “i don’t wanna talk about anything that happened.”

“that’s the problem. me neither. but we gon have to.” he shrugged, opening a beer with his teeth.

“connie, for real.” your eyes stuck to the ground as you spoke lowly. you didn’t have time for raising your voice anymore tonight. “y/n. you need to learn how to communicate wit me even if you mad. even if i’m mad.” he looked at you with those same, annoying low eyes he gave you when he was telling you whatever lesson you needed.

you looked to the side and shook your head.

“y/n.”

“okay.” you looked at him.

“don’t get mad when i ask you nothing. i won’t get mad when you ask me anything, ya hear?” he raised his eyebrows. you nodded slowly, really not tryna listen to shit he had to say, but you forced yourself to.

“so why you choose floch?”

“connie.” you started, realizing you were already about to start an argument. you inhaled deeply. “i knew you didn’t like him. and because you tried to make me jealous first.” you said, picking at your nails.

connie looked at your nails before looking back at you.

you glanced up at him for a few seconds before looking down again.

“why you acting all guilty? that was what you had to do, right?” he tilted his head forward while raising his eyebrows a little.

“rubbing on brooklyn was what you had to do, right?” you tilted your head to the side.

“i wanted to do that. but why you think i chose her and not a girl you hated more than her?” he asked you. but you shrugged. “ion know. i can’t read yo mind.” you muttered. “cus i didn’t wanna make you that mad. i wanted to annoy you, y’know, like we always do when we break up. y’know- i ain’t even kiss the girl. when have i ever kissed on another girl when we broke up and tried to make each other jealous?” he said, kicking his feet a little while staring at you.

you couldn’t get yourself to look at him.

“you cheated on me. so me flirting with floch should be the last thing we worrying about right now.” you defended yourself with all the proof you had. or all the thoughts you had.

connie’s gaze lingered on you, as you stared to the side again.

“look at me.” was all he said.

and you obeyed him. for a second, before looking down again. “ion wanna look at you.” you whispered.

thats when you heard him hop off the counter and walk over to you. you stayed seated as he grabbed your jaw softly, making you look up at him. he was still taller than you, even when you were on a platform.

but you looked at him, feeling you’d look dumb if you looked away again.

you stared at him, like always, and he stared back. it was like he was mind controlling you or something, because you felt your bottom lip start to quiver and your brows start to furrow.

“you know i love you, ma.”

you felt the tears come back. and as many times as that’s happened tonight, they’ve never left your eyes.

but now was suddenly different. before you felt the warmness roll down your cheeks.

“and ill admit it, cus i don’t wanna lie. even though i did cheat, i’ll never do that shit again.” he said while wiping your tears.

you couldn’t tell if he was genuine about what he was saying.

but he was.

“connie you gon make me mess up my lashes.” you whined, moving his hand. “i’ll buy you some more, ion care.” he said, hands moving towards your waist to hug you. “nails too.” his head nuzzled in your neck. you could feel him inhale and exhale deeply. you stared forward at the wall before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“i really do hate you connie. sometimes you just make me never wanna go back to you.” you mumbled.

connie hummed. “i’m sorry. i love you too.”

and there was a silence. not a normal silence, a weird silence. a scary silence. you rubbed his hair before he rested his head on your shoulder.

“but if i see you around him again… nah. if i see him around you again, i’m killing his ass.” he mumbled quietly.

you frowned and softly pushed him off of you, both hands on his shoulders. “connie. you not bein serious.” you said.

connie stared at you.

“nah. i’m not.”

i’m excited for the next part. ;)!

#aot x reader #connie springer #connie x reader #aot connie #connie x black reader #connie x black y/n #aot series #connie springer x reader #connie springer x black reader

[accio-victuuri]

xiao zhan - GQ February issue cover story Q&A 📝

They have experienced real things. There is no camera facing you. Without lights, you are living your own real life.

GQ: When did it become clear that you wanted to be an actor?

Xiao Zhan: When the public paid more and more attention to me, I want to say, why can’t I do it? I think I can. Sometimes I get shaken and think it’s so difficult. Why can’t I do it? For example, when it comes to lines, why are my lines just not good? Why can’t I speak well with others? Is it because I'm from the South? I don't think so, and then I think, how can I say it well? I can do it, let's give it a try.

GQ: In your opinion, what are the professional standards for actors?

Xiao Zhan: First of all, being professional is an unavoidable topic. You can have a non-major background, but you must have excellent professional skills. This is what I want to do, this is who I am. I feel that I am not enough, and i’m too far behind.

After becoming professional, attitude is very important and whether you love it is also very important. Do you just treat it as a job, or do you really like it? These are two concepts. When you see it as a job, you may not be able to go very far. But if you really like it, you will cry for it and laugh for it, which may be the motivation for you to stick to it.

I also have a strong body (laughs). I used to not feel tired when I was in my twenties, but now I feel very tired after staying up late. It's a terrible thing to be. A strong body is important, it is your foundation.

GQ: When you acted in which role or drama, did you feel recognized?

Xiao Zhan: When I was working on "The Wolf" at the beginning, I was under a lot of pressure. My acting teacher would give me a lot of advice and guidance, and I would constantly overturn my own performance every day. t was a period of confusion. After you get over it, you will find that you have grown. When you start acting later, you will gradually find a little bit of feeling, and then step by step — this is a cumulative process.

I feel that I have acted too little. Compared with some of my predecessors, who have acted in many works in their thirties, my current works are still too few and I have not accumulated enough.

GQ: Are you anxious?

Xiao Zhan: Yes, because I think (improving acting skills) is a cumulative process. You can’t make a big step forward with just one movie. This is difficult for me to happen. So you have to keep filming, but you have to keep filming good films and don't consume yourself.

GQ: What are the considerations behind the expansion of the three film and television dramas to be broadcast in 2023 from costume dramas to period dramas and urban dramas?

Xiao Zhan: Actually, I didn’t think anything about it. It just happened naturally. I didn’t deliberately change the themes that I had acted in before. I just read the script and the script was handed to me at the time. I felt attracted to a certain script at the moment, so I chose it. It just happened to be a subject that I had never acted in before.

GQ: Do you feel tired after always acting in costume dramas?

Xiao Zhan: There are many types of costumes. Don’t divide them into costume dramas and modern dramas. It’s nothing more than putting on a hood and changing clothes. In fact, the core is the same, but also just completely different.

GQ: Once your drama is aired, will you follow it?

Xiao Zhan: I won’t follow it, but I will watch it, and I will choose the scenes that I care about to focus on, so I can find problems for myself.

GQ: Will you be able to watch the barrage?

Xiao Zhan: I used to really know how to do it. I felt very happy and laughed with everyone, but now I can’t do it.

GQ: What kind of role do you want to play now?

Xiao Zhan: If I could choose, of course it would be the best one I haven’t tried yet. I need freshness. If I ask you to do the same thing every day, you will be bored.

GQ: What kind of actor do you want to be?

Xiao Zhan: I want to be an actor that the audience can like.

GQ: Have you already done this to make people like you?

Xiao Zhan: No, no, I think it’s far from enough. I once thought about whether to be an actor with a personal style or to be an actor that the audience likes just by looking at you. At present, I want to be an actor who makes the audience like you. Maybe everyone is not your fan, or even not particularly interested in you, but you know that he has a drama, Do you want to watch it? His dramas are all good. I want to do this. This is my current goal. Is it possible to become the actor I like? This is a rule.

It’s a long road, take your time.

GQ: Who are your favorite actors?

Xiao Zhan: There are many. For example, Zhou Xun has always been my favorite actor. I recently watched her play ("Waving in the Poison of Anger"), and it was really great.

GQ: What are your career plans in 2024?

Xiao Zhan: Make more movies and work with more good teams. This is the only goal at the moment, and I won’t consider other things for the time being.

GQ: Do voices on social media bother you?

Xiao Zhan: It doesn’t bother me. It’s been so many years and I’m still worried. I’m still alive. (English) It’s really okay. Just like I know exactly what I'm doing, every time. To make a choice, you have to clearly know what you are doing, what you want to give up, and what you want to make. So, fortunately, the team may have more troubles.

GQ: Your personal life has not been affected?

Xiao Zhan: Very normal! I can go out for a ride or a walk. When you walk on the street, no one really cares about you. It's really not what everyone thinks. Like this, then I can walk around freely,

GQ: Is this an escape moment for you?

Xiao Zhan: It’s time to relax. Why do you want to escape? I am also in the third dimension. Where do I want to escape? This is my life. I am the same as everyone.

There are many things I particularly want to do, such as taking the subway and shopping in shopping malls, which are very similar to when I was in school, and maybe I will do them in the future.

GQ: Do you miss the ordinary life very much?

Xiao Zhan: It’s not that I miss it, it’s that I think I should do it. It’s because of my popularity. I will really take the subway, maybe tomorrow. It’s so normal. I used to take the subway every day. for me there’s nothing I can't do. What do you think I can do? Say hello and leave. It’s just that I don’t want to cause confusion and trouble for everyone or cause a bad reaction.

GQ: You have not appeared on variety shows in recent years. Is this a conscious choice?

Xiao Zhan: Because it’s not suitable. With my personality, people get tired in variety shows. I want to take care of everyone’s feelings, which makes me very tired. Now that I know this is the case, If there is a result, then just don’t do it.

GQ: What was your original intention in entering the entertainment industry?

Xiao Zhan: I really came in inexplicably and ignorantly. I used to watch talent shows and interview the top contestants. How did i get to this point? I accompanied my friend to participate in the selection, but my friend failed and I was selected. When I was a child, I thought these things were far away from me, but when it comes to myself, it is really like this. I think it's amazing. I participated in the draft and got to where I am now. It's amazing. Life is really interesting.

GQ: What things have you not thought of before after entering the industry?

Xiao Zhan: It is a very cruel thing not to eat wantonly. When I see my former high school classmates who have children and gained weight, I will sigh, I want this too— eating recklessly, their living conditions make me feel that if I had not chosen this path at that time, maybe we are all the same, having to socialize and endure hardships — rushing to design at night, you don't know how tiring it is to do design, but life is like this, there is no way.

GQ: How did choosing this piece change you?

Xiao Zhan: Maybe I lack a lot of life experience. In this regard, my classmates and friends are far better than me. They have experienced real things. There is no camera facing you. Without lights, you are living your own real life.

GQ: Are you an emotionally stable person?

Xiao Zhan: It's relatively stable, but once I touch some points, I will become very unstable.

GQ: For example?

Xiao Zhan: It’s just... some things that cannot be said. Haha, maybe when something incredible happens, you will think, what are you doing? I will be very angry when something happens. Maybe it's some privacy issue. If this point is exceeded, I will "run away".

Everyone has their own boundaries, and some people have no sense of propriety. I stay away from such people, but when the boundaries are broken again and again and the bottom line is touched, I will get very angry.

GQ: You once said that you have a particularly strong side in your personality. What do you mean specifically?

Xiao Zhan: In principle, I am a very rigid person. If I insist on something and I think it is right, it will be difficult to be convinced. For example, if I want to be an actor, I don’t want to do anything other than being an actor. If you come to Siam, let’s debate. No one is right or wrong, the team is also for your own good, Isn't it a good thing to have a lot of work? But for me, I have to subtract because some things are really not what I want.

GQ: Do you have a perfectionist side?

Xiao Zhan: I just want to do it well, just try my best right now. Maybe the result is not good, but what should I do? This is all I can do.

GQ: Can you accept failure?

Xiao Zhan: I can accept it. I might not have been able to accept it a few years ago, but 30-year-old Xiao Zhan has learned to accept it (laughs).

-END.

#xiao zhan #accio victuuri translation #THE FONT IS SO SMALL I DIED LOL #MY POOR EYES #DO NOT TAKE OUTSIDE OF TUMBLR WITHOUT CREDIT #this is a good candid interview the manages to discuss serious topics! #my heart broke with that answer he gave so i used it as a main quote for this post

[miniwheat77]

Mine. (Ghost x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, jealous!ghost, slight love triangle, (lemme know if I missed any)

This isn’t very long but I wasn’t exactly sure what else to add. You can find the ask for this here.

(Summary): There’s a love triangle between reader, Ghost, and Gaz.

It all started when Captain Price introduced you as a new member that’d be joining the task force.

It went well for a few months. The missions went pretty smoothly, you got along with everyone really well. You didn’t see the longing stares from either men, but they welcomed you onto the base with open arms. Treated you like you’d been around forever and watching over you just as they did each other. It was nice having people looking out for you.

It started slow, you noticed on missions Gaz would get really close to you. He flirted with you and made it a point to always sit next to you, but when nobody else was around, Ghost did the same. You overheard a lot of people on base talking about it. Talking about how both Gaz and Ghost liked you, and who you would choose. It drove Ghost crazy. Because Gaz understood your jokes and social media references and he didn’t, he had a feeling you’d choose Gaz over him. You’d been on base for a couple months now and neither of them had made any sort of move, you didn’t want to choose between the two of them. It was a weird position that you were in.

They tried so hard to get closer to you than the other. Sending glares to each other when they passed by. They were acting like teenage boys and it was killing you. You hate it. They had a rivalry together. Trying to do better than the other on missions or training. Ghost was jealous. Extremely jealous. He didn’t usually show his feelings like this, but there was just something about you. He knew for sure if you chose Gaz, he’d never put himself in this position again.

You pick up a water bottle from the cooler, walking toward your room to change when you overheard a conversation between Soap and Gaz. “We’re taking bets on who Y/N is going to choose, you in on it?” You hear Gaz laugh. “Course she’s going to choose me, you seen my charm?” He jokes. “How much are they betting? I’m in.” You roll your eyes. You emerge from the mess hall, Gaz and Soap straightening out as you pass by them. “Hi Soap. Hi Gaz.” You smile innocently. “Hey.” They say awkwardly with a wave.

You waited in the darkness for Soap, seeing when he’d approach Ghost. You wanted to hear what Ghost had to say, how much money he’d bet.

You spot Soap moving, following behind him. He walks up to Ghost and you move closer so that you can hear him. “Hey, we’re taking bets on who Y/N is going to choose. You gonna get in on yourself?” Soap laughs. Ghost crosses his arms, eyes boring into Soap. “What, is this high school? Don’t you think that’s disrespectful?” Ghost shakes his head. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” Soap laughs. “Nah I’m not doing that, that’s cruel and will probably embarrass her.”

This is how you got your answer.

When Johnny walked away, Ghost made a beeline for your room. This wasn’t a move for you to want to pick him over Gaz. He didn’t want you to get embarrassed, especially if it’d make you leave the task force. Ghost didn’t want you to go. You reach your room before Ghost, quickly changing into your night clothes. You try to take a deep breath so that he doesn’t notice you’ve just come back. A quiet knock at your door has you scrambling up to open it. “Hey Ghost.” You smile. “Hey. Can I talk to you?” He asks. You open the door and allow him inside. “Is something wrong?” He sighs. “Johnny asked me to make a bet on who you’d choose. Me or Gaz. I just wanted to give you a heads up.” He breathes. “Thanks for letting me know, Ghost.” You smile. “Did you bet on me?” You ask, standing up from your bed and taking a step toward him. He takes a step back. “No. I wouldn’t do that to you.” You take another step and his back hits the wall behind him, startling him a little. You were acting weird.

“Is everything okay? You seem off.” He breathes. “Yeah. I just.. think it’s really nice of you to give me a heads up. You’re a real gentlemen you know?” You smile, resting a hand on his chest. “Uh.. yeah of course I just wouldn’t want you to get embarrassed or hurt.” He’s nervous for some reason, how the hell did you have this effect on him? “I heard Soap ask Gaz earlier to bet on me.” You giggle. “You did?” You nod your head. “Mhm. I heard him ask you too.” Ghost nods his head. “Well.. I guess I’m here for no reason than huh?” He laughs nervously. “No. Because I think you and I could bank off of this.” You smile. “Yeah? How so?”

“Go tell Johnny you wanna up the bet, bet on yourself.” You smile. Ghost rolls his eyes. “Oh Cmon. They want us to play their game. Why not show them how it’s played?” You smile. “But.. that would mean..” he swallows hard.

“That I’m choosing you? Yeah. That wasn’t even up for debate.” You smirk.

You grasp his vest, pulling him into you. Smashing your lips onto his. He freezes up for a second before deepening the kiss, he spins you around and pushes you up against the wall behind you.

This was Gaz’s downfall, being young and dumb when it comes to women. Ghost had an advantage. And that gave you the answer you need. You knew Ghost knew his way around a woman, sure maybe Gaz did too. But you had already made your choice. Ghost lifts you up by your thighs, hips pinning yours to the wall and a gasp leaves your lips. Muffled by his. He kisses you fervently, like it’ll be the last. He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He pants. “Go tell Johnny and come back.” You bite your lip. He nods his head. “Okay. Yeah.” He breathes. He sets you down and walks out the door quickly.

He’s back in just a few minutes, wasting no time to get his hands back onto you. Your skin is soft and warm and you’re so comfortable against him. In just a few minutes Ghost is between your legs. The only clothing remaining on him is just his mask, but it’s pulled up over his nose. His toned chest is covered in sweat. Moving with each deep breath he takes. He’s buried between your thighs, tongue drawing you into him. You’re trying your hardest to keep quiet. His face glistens in your arousal. The scratch from his stubble burns your thighs in the best possible way. “Oh fuck Simon-“ you gasp. He’s got a tight grip on your thighs, the way he manhandles you and moves you to where he wants you throws you for a curveball.

The significant age gap you have would’ve normally thrown you off. This was foreign and something you clearly should’ve thought about sooner. He took care of you.

Drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you. Wearing your body out.

When he’s inside of you, the tightness feels amazing. He’s massive, and fills you up perfectly. He takes your breath away with his size, ripping a moan from your throat when he takes his first thrust. Cock coated in your arousal, you watch intently as he slides out of you, thrusting back into you. Your eyes roll back as he starts a steady pace. Skilled thrusts as he holds you still. He’s not sloppy or too quick. He doesn’t keep sliding out of you, doesn’t make you uncomfortable. For once you don’t wish it was over as soon as it started. He’s making you feel good, pushing you to the edge of your high.

You’d never cum during sex before, the foreign build of an orgasm settles in your stomach and he’s staring down at you. He clearly knows what he’s doing.

The smirk on his lips tells you everything you need to know. Your first orgasm hits you quickly and he holds his hand over your mouth to quiet you, hips still hammering into yours, still steady. He’s not close just yet. “If it’s too much, just tell me.” He breathes. His hot breath on your face has you whimpering. He steadies himself, each of his hands on either side of your head. He’s smothering you, muscles flexing each time he thrusts into you. Your eyes roll back, moans being muffled by his lips on yours again. You can taste yourself on his lips. He’s got you approaching another high in no time.

How in the hell he could have your body reacting to him such ways?

When Simon finally finishes, you’re worn out. Legs are shaking, the muscles in your stomach are surely pulled. You’re sweaty, and worn out. “Relax, I’ll get you cleaned up.” He breathes. He finishes dressing himself, going to wet down a towel. The cool water feels amazing on your warm skin. By the time he’s nearly done, your eyes are heavy. He helps you settle in, creeping out of your room after he’s finished.

—

The following day, in the mess hall. Everyone is there except for your Captain. He didn’t need to hear any of this.

Simon is sitting at a table, everyone gathering around. “Alright, how are we going to do this? Ghost is in. You guys have to make a move on her to see who she chooses.” Soap announces. “She’s already made a choice.” Ghost leans back in his chair. “What?” Gaz mumbles. Ghost grabs the bottom of his mask, lifting it over his neck to reveal all of the love bites you’d left there the night before. “What? No way!” Gaz rolls his eyes. Soap gathers the money from the bet, nobody had bet on Ghost so all of the money went to him. You emerge from the doorway, walking over and sitting in Ghosts lap, holding a hand out. He sets half of the money in your open hand, smirk on your lips. “What the fuck is going on?” Gaz mumbles. “I overheard your little bet.” You smirk. “Heard you agree immediately, heard Simon disagree, try to defend me. So I put him up to it.” You stand up, face only a few inches from Gaz. “Nice guys finish inside.” You smirk, shoving passed him. “Come on Simon.” You mumble. Simon stands up, pushing his chair in. “What a guy.” Soap shakes his head.

Gaz rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #ghost call of duty #gaz cod #gaz mw2

[softtdaisy]

please can i request sweet fluffy Mick with either one of this prompt? thankyou 🥹

“i’m not leaving you go home like this! stay the night, i swear it won’t kill you.”

“no way am i letting you stay on the couch!”

“here, you can sleep in my shirt.”

Pairing: Mick Schumacher x female!reader

Words: 1216

A/n: Sweet Mick is such a pleasure to write i really hope you will love this story sweetie! (and no i couldn’t chose one prompt i took them all 💛)

“I’m not leaving you to go home like this! stay the night, i swear it won’t kill you.”

Mick had been trying to convince you for almost half an hour now. But you were still too stubborn to listen to him. Even if you were laying on his couch.

Since your best friend was home, he offered you to study at his place so you could still hang out together. He also said he could help you. Which he couldn’t really. But he was a great mental support so you still accepted to stay at his place.

And you spent a cute fun day with Mick. He made breakfast, gave you some shoulder massages and made you laugh when you were on the verge of breaking down.

The only moment when Mick wasn’t with you was when he had to answer Toto’s call about planning a private practice for him. “Take it Mick, I can handle some minutes alone.” You told him, laughing because he sounded like he was leaving a child alone.

The thing was, without Mick watching you and making sure you weren’t putting too much pressure on yourself…you, indeed, put too much pressure on yourself. And got anxious when you felt like nothing was making sense. You still had a lot to learn and your brain wasn’t working. Like it was full. 

You tried walking around in his apartment, to change your mind. It didn’t work. 

You tried drinking tea like a miracle potion. It didn’t work.

You tried some relaxing exercises but those only seem to work when Mick was there with you. But there was no way you would call him. He had his own things to deal with. 

“You won’t believe what Toto told me! He said that…where are you?” You heard Mick said when he left his bedroom. It took him a few seconds to find you sitting on the floor, behind his couch. Almost like you were hiding. Were you? “Hey, love what’s happening?” 

Mick kneeled in front of you and took your face between his hands. His soft touch immediately calmed you and you couldn’t resist falling in his arms to find comfort. A hug that your best friend gladly gave you, caressing your back softly and humming your favorite song in your ear. 

Mick knew that you had a hard time dealing with your studies. He hated being away because of that. How could he help you when he wasn't even by your side most of the time?

“I’m fine” you sighed after a few minutes of being held by Mick. And that was how he knew that yes, you were relaxing a little. But that you were still not fine. Specially because your head was resting on his shoulder like you could fall asleep in a minute. 

“Let’s seat on the couch alright?” Mick offered. “You take a break, I’ll order some food.”

“But…”

“No, but you’ll study tomorrow. It’s getting darker outside! It’s a sign you have to stop.”

You complained but had to agree. It wasn’t like Mick gave you the choice anyway since he took all your lessons and locked them in a drawer. 

So Mick ordered some food, your favorite, and you spent hours talking about everything that didn’t involve classes or anything. So cars. Mostly cars. And your memories together. You’ve known each other forever and you couldn’t imagine a life where Mick wasn't in. He was your rock, your everything. You would choose him over anybody else.

He did choose you over some people. A jealous girlfriend that couldn’t stand you and ask him to leave you. Stupid friends that made fun of him back in the days for being a virgin when he could use you because why would you be here otherwise? 

But after spending all your day at Mick’s place you finally said you were going home. And that was how the whole convincing thing started.

“You’re too tired to go back home!”

“How does that even make sense?” You laughed

“Why don’t you want to spend the night here? At least you don’t have to come back tomorrow, you’ll be here!”

“Fine. But I sleep here.”

There was something so intimate about sleeping in the same bed. You did, already. Multiple times. And everything went well. But you were always left with a strange feeling. A mix of being relaxed after sleeping next to someone you care so much about and waking up by his side. And of feeling empty after realizing there was something missing in the equation. 

Mick rolled his eyes at your proposition. “No way am I letting you stay on the couch!” He couldn’t even imagine you thinking he would say yes. Your best friend was just as stubborn as you were.

You got up and walked to him. You were now facing each others, your face way too closed. “Fine.” You replied.

“Fine.” He added with a soft smile.

You stayed like this for too long. And again this feeling came. You can see the line between staying where you are or finally trusting your feelings. 

Before you could make a decision, Mick moved and walked to his bedroom. “Come here, sleepyhead!” He yelled. 

“For someone who wants me to stay here you could bring me to your bed properly!” You replied, only realizing what this could possibly mean when you saw Mick. He was standing in the middle of his room, surprised, with a shirt in his hands.

“Hm, here, you can sleep in my shirt.” He turned around immediately to give you space and intimacy. Or maybe because he couldn’t look at you when all his brain could focus on was how he could bring you to his bed if he wanted to. He hoped he wasn’t breathing too loudly because in this silence, all he could hear was his heartbeat, his breath and the sound of your clothes falling on the floor. 

“It's ok, you can turn around, I look presentable” you said with a small laugh before walking to his bed. There was something natural about how you pick your side, knowing which one was Mick’s. 

You pretended to look at something on your phone while Mick was dressing down. Truth was, the screen was black and it was the first time he would be sleeping in his boxer. But it felt intrusive after he turned around for you.

Then Mick did what he did best. Once he was laying down by your side, he immediately took you in his arms. It was a ritual. It started the first time you did a sleepover together when you were kids. Mick had forgotten his comforter at home. He didn’t want to sound like a baby but he ended up admitting the truth to you. So you innocently offered to be it, if it could help. It did. And became something natural for both of you.

“I could get used to that every night.” He yawned in your neck.

“Me too.” You replied with a smile, cuddling against him. “Maybe it could become a thing.”

“Hm, maybe, I like this idea.”

And just like that you knew that maybe one day this feeling of missing something in your life would be gone. Because all you needed was here.

#mick schumacher #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher story #Mick Schumacher x reader #Mick Schumacher fic #Mick Schumacher fanfic #Mick Schumacher fluff #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 story #f1 x you #my writing

[maybege]

Paz with no. 56 please 😵‍💫🥵 you’re amazing!! Thank you!!

Guess who is back, babes! After starting 2023 off with the trip of my dreams, I am finally back home and so so so excited to post this smut prompt. Thank you so much for sending in a prompt! I know it has been taking me a long time but I am honestly s proud of this one, even if it kind of got out of hand but it was a lot of fun to write and I hope you enjoy reading it. As always, let me know what you thought in a comment or reblog!

Annual Chances

Summary: Paz chooses you at the yearly festivities.

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 5.3k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, consensual aphrodisiac, dom!Paz, sub!Reader, breeding  kink, a whole lot of size kink, verbal degradation, creampie(s), implied cockwarming

Prompts: #56 “I’d like to breed you.”

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“Get up, sleepyhead, the invitations are in!”

You sat up, startled from your sleep and still half away in your dreams. There, the sun was shining on your bare skin, warming you from the inside out as you watched Paz play with your children, their laughter echoing through your head even as you saw your friend. Even as the reality you wished for dissolved all around you.

“Chants, what the fuck?” you hissed, unhappy to be pulled from your dreams so early and so roughly.

But your friend did not care, he simply skipped through the doorway, settling down at your side as he thrust a piece of paper in your face. By the looks of him, he had probably been awake for hours already, his job in the healing wings demanding a rather flexible sleep and work schedule.

“The invitations are in!” he repeated, a wide smile on his face, “This is your chance to finally snag that warrior of yours.”

You sat up, trying to ignore how your heart sped up from the mere thought of him. “I won’t be snagging anyone,” you corrected groggily, fishing the piece of paper from his hand, “Besides who knows if I have time to attend ...”

“Oh no, we will not have that discussion at all,” Chants protested quickly, throwing himself you’re your mattress and just barely missing your shin, “You were moping for weeks when you missed your chance at last year’s feast and I am frankly too busy having fun to anticipate having to nurse you back to happiness.”

“I wasn’t moping,” you protested with a pout, “I was just … thinking.”

“About how much happier you would be if a certain warrior carried you off into the sunset, I know,” Chants replied easily and you chose not to discuss it anymore. Perhaps he was right … Who were you kidding, of course, he was right.

You had had a crush on Paz Vizsla from afar for a long time. As soon as your clans had joined together and he had arrived with the first warriors, you had had only eyes for him. And how could you not? He was a fine specimen of a man, tall, and broad, with a deep voice that send shivers down your spine and a laugh that made you wish for a future when you could see his face.

But, alas, your shyness and his high status in the covert did not work well together. You hardly got to see him alone, and sometimes, weeks passed when you didn’t cross paths no matter how much you wished for it. And even if you managed to see him, to be in the same room as him, you were too nervous to speak.

More than once, Chants had suggested that you use the annual matchmaking feast to shoot your shot. Every person of age was invited to the party and it was without a doubt the event of the year. After all, Mandalorians valued their foundlings above everything and any excuse to celebrate what was most likely going to be the date of conception for some future ones was welcome. Countless couples had found together at the feasts over the years and the thought that it could be the day when you and Paz joined was … intriguing, to say the least.

Only that you had been too shy to attend for a long time and when you had finally gathered the courage to go to the party last year, Paz Vizsla had not been there. At the time, you were convinced that he had already chosen someone as his mate and, much to Chants’ dismay, had vowed never to attend again.

But it seemed your friend would not take a no for an answer this year.

*

“I hate this,” you muttered under your breath, trying your best to ignore your racing heart. Was it possible to throw up from nervousness? Because you were sure you could feel your stomach doing somersaults in the confines of your body.

“No, you don’t,” Chants replied easily, taking a sip of his sparkling drink, “At least the food is great.”

“I could have great food at home.”

“Yeah but not with a view like that.”

Your eyes followed his and landed on a group of broad-shouldered warriors that talked with each other by the bar. Which was ironic considering they all had their helmets on.

That was why, as soon as you had entered the packed hall with Chants on your heels, you had fled to the buffet table. The chances were considerably low and it allowed you to at least try and calm the fuck down.

In the meantime, Chants was happy because your position by the buffet granted him the perfect view of what the covert had to offer.

You tugged at your dress, feeling constricted in the ridiculous gown your friend had talked you into.

“Don’t do this,” he said.

“Don’t do what?” you asked grumpily,

“Don’t self-sabotage,” he said calmly, “You are so scared of Vizsla rejecting you that you don’t even put yourself out there and –“

Your heart clenched, his pointed words finding their target. He knew you too well, or maybe just well enough because you had to admit he was right.

“And what?” you asked, shoulders slumping as you searched the buffet for something to catch your eyes.

“That’s Paz Vizsla coming our way,” Chants murmured, his elbow digging into your middle, “I think he’s coming to us.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you mumbled, fishing another appetizer from the buffet, “Paz Vizsla would never come to us. He’s way too –“

“Way too what?”

You froze, slowly turning around and looking at the warrior before you.

Paz Vizsla was a huge man, imposing and intimidating even when he tried not to be and with a reputation that followed him from the battlefield to every place he went. It was rumoured that he had never lost a fight before and now that you saw him up close, taking in the sheer size of him, you had no trouble believing it.

“Way too, uh, busy?” you grimaced at how weak your voice sounded.

“Of the two of us, I’d say you’re the busy one,” he replied with a tilt of his helmet, “this is the first year you’re attending the festivities.”

“That’s not true,” you frowned, “I attended last year as well.”

The man in front of you hummed, as if in thought, and you took the opportunity to just … look at him.

Your eyes slid over his broad shoulders to his thick arms and large hands and you found yourself wishing to know what it was like to feel them on your body. Or in your body. Preferably both.

“I’m afraid I was not there for long last year. That would explain it,” he finally said, still looking at you. You wondered if he noticed your stares because he straightened up a little, clenching his fists and relaxing them and the veins stood out. Stars, how could one man be so attractive?

“You know what, I think someone’s calling me,” Chants suddenly said and you were embarrassed to find that you had completely forgotten he was right next to you. What kind of crush was this?

“Of course,” Paz said and you both watched your friend leave in silence, immediately swallowed up by groups of people.

The realization that you were both alone now came suddenly and unexpectedly and you felt your heart skip one or two beats. Because what were you supposed to say now? Here was the man you had been pining after for so long, here was your chance to say something, to impress him, to make him fall in love with you.

“Hello,” you managed to bring out, hoping that your smile wasn’t as wavering as your courage.

He chuckled, low and rumbly and you swore you felt it in your chest. “Hello, little one,” he greeted you, grabbing a small berry in his large fingers. You watched him bring it up and under his helmet, and your imagination ran wild.

Stars, what might it be like to kiss him?

“I, uh, I thought you found someone last year already,” you continued nervously, fiddling with your hands in front of your middle, “Did – did you find someone?”

He shook his head, “It was more about whom I didn’t find.”

“That sounds like you have someone specific in mind.”

“I do.”

“Really?” you asked, surprised at how close he suddenly was. You imagined being able to hear his real voice behind the helmet, “Wh-Who?”

“There are a lot of flattering things I could say now,” he stated, his voice not wavering for a second, “But to make a long proposal very short: I’d like to breed you.“

You thought you were dreaming. You were convinced you were dreaming.

“Me?”

“Yes,” he stepped closer, his hand reaching yours and you were hyperaware of how gentle his rough fingertips were against your skin, “you.”

“And if you were amenable,” he continued quietly, his fingers brushing over your knuckles, “I’d be also interested in courting you.”

You felt faint.

“Courting … me?”

He stiffened, shifting away from you and you immediately yearned for the return of his touch. “Only with your consent, of course,” he spoke, “Please forgive me, if I spoke out of turn, I thought perhaps – I thought you –“

“No, don’t get me wrong I’m,” you hurried to say, “I’m – this means a lot – but, uh, did you take a look around? There are so many wonderful people that you could be interested in and I am just … me … Why me?”

Your hand landed on his and you both froze, looking at where you were touching him. His skin burned against yours and you could feel his racing pulse underneath your fingertips.

“Because I don’t think of any of them when I make myself come at night,” he revealed with a growl and you swore your pussy pulsed at his words, “and I don’t think of any of them when I think about whom I want to raise my children with. I want you, mesh’la, very much so. Do you want me too?”

You could hardly believe your ears. Somewhere deep inside you, doubt was still hammering at your chest in worry. What if you had somehow misunderstood him? What if he realized what a mistake he made when you thought yourself safe?

But just as the worries seemed to creep up on you yet again, you caught yourself, just in time. You deserved happiness. You deserved love. And you deserved these things with the man who stood in front of you, who had told you how he felt for you. Who wanted you as much as you wanted him.

“Stars yes,” you breathed.

“What’s that?” he asked, his voice deeper than before, “I couldn’t hear you, little one.”

You nodded quickly, “I – I’ve wanted you for so long, Paz, I didn’t – I never, I never thought you’d think the same.”

“Well then,” he said, his helmet so close you could feel the cold of the beskar radiating onto your skin, “What would you say we go and make this semi-official, mesh’la?”

You grinned. This was a dream come true. Who would have thought that of all people Paz Vizsla, the one you had a crush on would return your feelings? His hand wrapped around your, completely enveloping your wrist and fingers as he tugged you through the crowd. You had always admired how people seemed to just make way for him wherever he went with an unconscious admiration and respect that he had earned. Now, following him as they parted for the both of you was thrilling.

The armourer sat at the end of the room, shadowed by her council as they oversaw the festivities.

“You want to leave us already?” she asked, tilting her golden helmet in acknowledgement.

You felt heady, clutching Paz’s hand like a lifeline. It was all so real now.

“I hope you will excuse us,” Paz said, “we found each other and I don’t want to waste any more time.”

“Stars know you wasted enough time pining after her,” Djarin commented from his place on the dais and that caught your attention.

Paz? Pining? After you??

The big man shifted next to you, seeming a little shy and you smiled. This was definitely something you would ask him about.

The armourer inclined her head and, from someplace you did not see, a goblet was brought to you. You knew the look of them well, the drink in it was given to every couple that found each other at the festivities. It was some sort of concoction that was rumoured to be especially potent for … you felt heat rise in your cheeks.

Paz lifted his helmet, just enough to take a sip and it felt forbidden to see the sliver of skin, to see how his hand dwarfed the precious metal. Soon, you would feel those hands on you, soon you could feel his skin against yours.

You were so enraptured by the sight of him, it took you a few moments to realize that he was holding out the goblet to you. “Would you like a drink, my love?” he asked you, his voice low and rumbly.

You nodded wordlessly, taking it from him. It tasted sweeter than you imagined, the liquid like honey on your tongue and causing a comfortable warmth in your belly. Almost immediately, Paz’s hand found yours and he dragged you away.

Everything was a blur. You did not see the people you passed, you did not take in the hallways you walked through. Paz was in a hurry and your laughter turned silent when you felt your need for him burn your veins. Was this the effect of the drink?

The hallways were completely abandoned and as Paz passed through the residential quarters, you found yourself curious about where exactly he was leading you.

You got your answer not a minute later.

“These are my rooms,” he announced as he punched the code into the keypad. The door swished open, revealing quarters that looked much warmer than you had expected. There was a giant bed with lots of blankets and pillows and the floor was covered in soft rugs. You could see his workstation completely overladen with files and plans and smiled when you spotted the invitation to the festivities at the very top of the pile.

Feeling his hands on your hips, you turned around with a smile, letting his hands slowly wander over you. His metal forehand touched yours and you took a deep breath in, relishing in the way your entire body seemed to warm at his touch.

“You have no idea how long I waited for this moment,” he whispered, his fingers slipping under the hem of your dress and slowly lifting it up. The feeling of his rough fingertips on the soft skin of your thighs chased goosebumps all over your body and you could feel a pang in your core.

“I never dared to dream,” he said, “that you could want me the way I want you.”

“I want you, Paz,” you whispered, your hands shaking with anticipation as you tugged on his shoulder pauldrons, “I always wanted you. Ever since I first saw you I knew it … if it would be anyone it would be you.”

“Good. Because for me it has always been you,” he hummed, sounding happier than you had ever heard him. He took a step forward and you gasped when you could feel his entire body press against yours, “Will you let me show you just how much I want you?”

You nodded, unable to find the words between sheer excitement and the needy pulsing between your legs.

In one quick movement, Paz had freed you of your dress and you hurried to step out of your underwear as Paz’s hands worked on the various buckles and clips on his armour. It was a flurry of movements, quickened by your desire for each other and suddenly you were both standing there, completely naked save for Paz’s helmet. But that was not what you were focussing on now.

“You’re – you’re really big,” you mumbled, taking in his girth. Stars you knew he was a big man but how was that supposed to fit inside you?

Paz chuckled, holding out his hand for yours and you followed his movements. You were both quiet as he guided your hand to his hard cock. “Your hand can hardly fit around me,” he marvelled, his breath hitching as his hand closed above yours. He started to move your palm with his and you watched enraptured as a few drops of precome started to bead at the tip.

Your walls fluttered around nothing at the thought of feeling him inside you and you shifted, swallowing nervously. Your chest brushed against his, your nipples hardening and out of reflex more than anything else did you tilt your head up towards him.

“I cannot show my face,” he said, clearly displeased with the rules, “Not now. Not yet.”

“But I’d like to kiss you,” you pouted, as you continued to stroke him, “I’d like to feel you.”

He hummed, taking a reluctant step back and you wanted to follow him before you saw where his hand went. Before you could say anything, the room fell into complete darkness and you stilled, trying to calm your heartbeat so you could hear what he was doing.

The sound of his intake of breath was unmistakable and you heard a thud, metal on wood, when you realized that he had taken off his helmet. You smiled. Of course. If you could not see him, he could take off his helmet and you could kiss him.

In complete and utter darkness, you reached out your hand only to find the warm skin of his chest. You smiled when his hand came up to hold you against him and moments later his entire body pressed against yours again. You could feel his reaction against your belly and his breath on your face and it was a miracle your brain hadn’t short-circuited yet.

Your noses brushed against each other and you smiled just before you could feel his lips against yours. Paz’s lips were dry and a little chapped but you swore you had never felt anything as heavenly. The kiss started out soft and careful as you got used to each other. But having him so close, the effects of the drink making you all dizzy, you couldn’t keep yourself from wanting to explore him.

You sighed against him and Paz used that to move against you, his tongue bushing over your bottom lip as his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer. He tasted sweet, just like the drink, and when his teeth closed on your bottom lip, you swore you were this close to coming just from having him close.

Lips moving against each other’s, you let him push you towards his bed, the mattress hitting the back of your knees. You squeaked, falling into the softness and scooted back until you could feel the pillows. Paz followed you, his body heat never leaving yours and when you arched your back, your chest accidentally brushing against his stubbled chin, he closed his lips around your nipple.

All breath escaped you as pleasure burnt through your veins. You just wanted him to touch you, to –

“Ready?” Paz asked you, kissing the spot between your tits. His hands slid up to the inside of your thighs and you were sure you had never been as wet as this moment. You nodded before you you remembered he couldn’t see you.

“Yes,” you whispered, hands finding his shoulders and you held onto him, “I’m ready.”

Paz made a noise at the back of his throat and you could feel him shuffling closer, his fingers rubbing over your folds and you gasped when they circled your clit. You were sure the mattress was already drenched with your juices and you inhaled sharply when you felt the head of his cock carefully part your folds.

He pushed inside you slowly and you gasped. “Stars,” you murmured, resisting the initial desire of your body to move away from him as your hands tightened on his shoulders. His head was not even completely inside you and your walls already felt like they were stretching too far. “You’re huge!”

“Not too huge, I hope?” he chuckled, pulling out carefully and leaving you feeling ridiculously empty. You could feel him pulsing against your folds, drops of precome mixing with your wetness.

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck as you tried to find words. “I – Paz, what if you don’t fit?”

“Afraid your pussy is too small for my cock, mesh’la?” he teased you and you felt heat fill your cheeks at his words, the desire thrumming through you again.

At your lack of an answer, you felt him relax, his legs spreading beneath yours as his thumbs brushed over your sides. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, sweetly kissing your cheek, “I will make it fit.”

He pushed your legs up, his hands large on the soft flesh of your thighs as he pressed them to your chest. “Is that comfortable?”

His hips pushed forward a little and his shaft slid over your wetness. Something snapped in you.  “Stars, just fuck me already,” you panted, trying to lift your hips closer to him which resulted in your claves landing on his shoulders for leverage.

He laughed then, a deep belly laugh, that made your cheeks hot and your pussy clench. “Paz ...!”

“I am sorry, sweetheart,” he chuckled, his lips brushing over your calf and you felt him shift between your legs, “I will make amends.”

And amends he made when his shaft parted your walls again, slowly but surely, pushing the breath out of your lungs. You were prepared now, for the inevitable feeling of being split apart and you took a deep breath, your blood singing with relief at having him inside you.

Paz groaned above you, his hips starting to build up a fast rhythm that had your hands bunching the sheets. You had never felt so full.

“Can’t wait to see your tits bounce,” he groaned, “to see your belly all round with my child.”

You moaned at the image, walls clamping around him. Nothing sounded better than having him

“I'm gonna fill you up,” he announced between groans, his bed shaking with how deep and strong his strokes had become, “I’m going to put a baby in you and if it doesn’t take today then it will take tomorrow or the day after or the day after …”

Lying helplessly underneath him, you couldn’t do anything but take it. Take his cock, take his words, take the kisses he gently pressed on your jaw and neck.

 “Stars, you’re tight,” he cursed, leaning forward and pressing your legs further against you. Your muscles protested and you felt the knot in your core tighten.

“’s too much,” you panted, “please – I – I am so close I –“

“Come for me,” he encouraged you, his voice raw in your ear, “Come for me and I will fill you with my come like you deserve.”

You felt hot and cold at the same time and with Paz’s cock hitting a spot inside you that made you see stars, it was the closest you would ever come to an out-of-body experience, you were sure. You cursed under your breath, any thoughts leaving your head when all you felt was incredible.

You felt incredible.

“Good girl,” Paz’s voice got you out of your mindless state and you suddenly became aware that he was still very much moving inside you, shaft rubbing along your clenching walls as he seemed to get quicker and quicker until he buried himself so deeply inside you it almost hurt. The feeling of his come filling you was like an aphrodisiac all on its own.

“Oh fuck,” you murmured, your legs still shaking on his shoulders as he slowly pulled out, “That was –“

“Was?” Paz chuckled darkly as he rolled next to you, “I haven’t even started yet, sweetheart.”

You gaped at him, even if he couldn’t see it, “What?”

“What do you think they give us this drink for?” he asked, clearly amused.

“I – I don’t know,” you stuttered, your heart slowly reaching its normal rhythm again, “Heightened fertility?”

Paz hummed, his warm hand finding yours and squeezing, “That, too. But also for better … endurance.”

“Oh stars,” you groaned, “What have I gotten myself into?”

Both of you laughed at that and the happiness you felt threatened to burst out of your chest. The bed moved with Paz as he sat up, you could feel his arm brush against your shoulder and soon, his hand tugged on yours.

You followed his wordless instructions, trying your best to sit up. But his tugging did not cease until you understood what he meant. You raised your leg, attempting to straddle him and it was his other hand that gently held to your knee, guiding it over his lap.

It was impressive how in the darkness, Paz could still find your lips, pulling you in for a kiss. You could feel his heart beat in his chest and you were sure he could feel yours too. You wiggled your hips, causing him to groan against you. Your hands found the back of his neck, your fingertips playing with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

“I could get used to this,” you mused, quickly kissing the corner of his mouth and giggling when his hands cupped your tits, his thumbs swiping over your nipples.

“Me too,” he smiled against you, running the tip of his nose over your jaw. You wiggled again, feeling his cock harden between you and even with the mess of your combined juices spilling down your thighs, you felt ready to go again.

“C’mon, ride my cock,” he instructed, the teasing lilt to his voice betraying the grin that was undoubtedly on his face. You could feel his hands between you as he held his cock in position and you tried your best to raise yourself up high enough to sink down on him. But your body seemed to have different plans and the newly required effort to move reminded you just how much that first orgasm had taken you out.

His come served as lube as you sank down on him, your legs too weak to hold up any pretence of control as his cock speared you again. You whimpered, barely holding yourself up on his shoulders. Paz made a soothing sound, his lips on your temple as you tried to catch your breath.

“Go on,” he whispered, his fingers gently pinching your nipples and you mewled when he pulled on them ever so slightly, the pain giving your pleasure a new edge, “Work your pussy on my cock.”

“I can’t,” you admitted feebly, rocking against him. Your legs were trembling so much still and all you could focus on was how good he felt inside you, how stuffed you were, how deep he was.

“Paz, please –“

He did not do anything at first but you could feel his knees go up behind you and suddenly he was holding you by the hips. “It’s okay,” he soothed you, his fingers brushing over your skin, “I got you.”

Unable to say anything, you just let yourself rest against his chest, putting your head on his shoulder. He smelled of the woods and engine fuel and the pure warmth of him made your chest flutter. He got you.

You whimpered, hiding your face in his neck as he started to thrust up into you, bouncing you on him as if you weighed nothing.

“You take my cock so well,” he praised you, “What a pretty little breeding toy you are for me, sweetheart, how pretty you sound with my cock stuffed in that tight pussy.”

He had you bounce so strongly, the sound of skin slapping against skin couldn’t be overheard, and yet all you could hear was his panting breath in your ear, the quiet groans, the little praises. They made you clench even tighter around him and you tightened your hold on him.

Needing him more and more, you attempted to move your hips against his, trying to get your own rhythm going to get hom to move deeper. Stars, you needed him deeper.

“Oh, you’re much too weak for that, my love,” Paz teased you, his fingers tightened on the soft flesh of your ass before one hand came down in a slap, “Let me fuck you like you need, you can be as cockdumb as you want.”

You smiled, letting him take control again, and kissed the little spot behind his ear. There was a strange sense of happiness you hadn’t anticipated, in knowing that Paz really would take care of you. He would fuck you like you needed, fill you up like you wanted, and you didn’t need to do anything.

You just needed to enjoy it.

“Are you enjoying my cock?” he asked you breathlessly, “Does it feel good to be stuffed like you need?”

“Y-yes,” you brought out, embarrassed by how thin your voice sounded, “F-feels so good, Paz.”

“Tell me you want me to breed you,” he growled, his hips surging up in a particularly hard thrust, “Tell me you want my baby.”

You whimpered, the words stuck in your throat when you felt another wave threatening to send you over the edge. It was all you could do to hold onto him.

“Tell me or I won’t let you come,” he threatened, “Don’t you want to come, sweetheart? Don’t you want to be bred?”

His words made you want to sit up but Paz’s hold was as strong as ever.

“Pl-Please come inside me,” you burst out, not caring how your voice stumbled over itself, your despair to come too big to ignore, “Please, Paz, I want your baby, I – please come inside me.”

“I am going to breed you every single day if that is what it takes,” he growled, “Every free moment I have I am going to spend like this,” his finger rubbed over your clit, making you gasp, “Stuffing that pretty cunt with my come.”

Your gasp got swallowed by his kiss as his fingers worked their magic on your clit. “Come for me again, my love, let me breed you.”

And, as if all it would take were his words, you did. You clenched around him, biting your knuckles to keep quiet as you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to ride the waves of pleasure that washed over you.

“Good girl,” Paz groaned his hips stuttering, “My good fucking girl.”

The praise made you preen. His hands held you down on him and you could feel him filling you again, the sheer amounts of come trickling around where you were joined, squelching sounds mixing with your loud breaths.

“It feels so good,” you breathed once you felt like you could think straight again, “You feel so good.”

Paz hummed, his chest heaving against yours and despite the aftershocks of your second orgasm of the night still feeling prominent, you decided that this was your favourite moment. Here, resting against him, skin to skin, heart to heart, it felt like your world was finally complete.

“I think the drink is wearing off,” you murmured finally, “At least for me.”

“For me too,” Paz confirmed, his large hand settling on your lower back, holding you to him, “Though I am not quite ready to let go.”

“Me neither,” you sighed against him, closing your eyes to listen to his heartbeat.

“Don’t worry, though,” he said, kissing your temple, “We have time.”

#maybege writes #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x fem!reader #smut

[harrys-titties]

“I can’t- I need to go home.” 

“No, don’t go.” He reaches toward her but stops himself just before he grabs her, bringing his arm back towards his body like the very thought of pulling Y/N back to him burned. 

She turns to him, tears brimming. “I-, no! I can’t do this anymore, Harry.” He watches as she wipes a tear. She hadn’t looked at him since they’d returned to his apartment. “All the big sighs, the angry looks. You clearly hate Xander, or maybe you hate me being here.” She chooses this point to look him dead in the eye, and Harry feels his stomach turn. 

“But you won’t say it. I keep- I thought you would but you haven’t. So what the fuck am I meant to do, huh Harry?” 

There’s no confusion in Harry’s voice when he speaks, only a sort of dejection that Y/N hates. She hates all of this! Harry was never supposed to be the person she had this conversation with. 

“Say what, YN?” 

That you love me. 

It’s on the tip of her tongue, just begging to come out. But Y/N knows this is one of those sentences that she couldn’t take back, one that would change the dynamic between them forever. She didn’t want to be responsible for that. So she says nothing and lets Harry read the frustration and begging in her eyes instead. 

The silence settles over the room, so long and thick it begins to choke her. 

It’s Harry who speaks again. “Yet you won’t say it either,” he shakes his head. “What do you want me to tell you, Y/N? That I love you being with him? That I’ve always imagined you coming here and the person you ending up with being the one person I can’t stand? What did you expect exactly?” 

“Plea-.” She opens her mouth to speak, but Harry had never spoken to her like this before, and the fear of losing him snakes up her throat and squeezes. 

“Do you want me to be happy for you? Because fine, if that’s what it takes, then so be it, but I’m not gonna be happy for him. And I’m not going to be happy that he took you away from me. And I’m never going to forgive him or accept him because he’s not and never will be good enough for you.” Harry hates the hurt that spills from her eyes.

But what was he supposed to say, that he was in love with her? He couldn’t. How could anyone say something like that so brazenly? This wasn’t a movie. She wasn’t going to run into Harry’s arms in the rain and forget the fiancé left in New York. Harry couldn’t be the Noah to Y/N’s Allie because she didn’t choose him. She’d never chosen him. 

She chose Xander, and Harry loved her too much to force her into making a decision she shouldn’t have had to. 

“I need to leave.” 

Harry sniffs, nodding like he was trying to convince himself she’d just said that. He lets the disappointment sink to his stomach and stew, beginning to feel sick with the implication that she was making her final choice, and he wasn’t it. Maybe he was never in the running and had only let himself believe it. 

“Okay.” 

Opening the door for her, he stood looking at the floor, waiting for her to walk past him so he could close it and try to forget how she’d looked at him twenty seconds ago. 

“Harry- please.” He looks at her then, and a tear threatening to fall from his eye causes him to clear his throat, “What, Y/N? Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, please.” 

She still doesn’t move. 

“I- I’m so scared, Harry.” It’s whispered so softly that he knows he would never have heard her if he wasn’t straining his ears, praying she’d admit she loved him.  

“Scared of what?” 

She laughs, but neither of them sees humour in any of this. “Of fucking up and losing you. Of hurting Xander and doing something I can’t take back. I’m scared of it not working out and losing both of you at once. Which is selfish, I know, but I can’t help it.” 

She looks so scared, so vulnerable that Harry is immediately transported back to their days at University. The hours they spent drunk sitting on the floor of her dorm room, the thousands of tears they’d wiped off of each other’s faces, every time Harry had thought of kissing her, and all the times he knew she was thinking the same thing. This gut-wrenching, spine-twisting feeling was exactly the same as when he’d told her he was moving. When her eyes held the same dullness they do now, every gaze and blink screaming that he’d betrayed her. 

“He’s not good enough for you, he won’t- he can’t take care of you the way that-" he gulps, “the way that I could.” 

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry #harry styles writing #writing #am i feeling dramatic today? yes xxx #is this cringey and overdramatic? ALSO yes #love u all as always