#a way to prove you’re a good partner to protect them

[hxltic]

bein yelled at by ghost. you’ve been in the army this long, been yelled at by sergeants and others alike, majority men—obviously—but none of them like this. The others you didn’t even flinch as they screamed directly into your ears, probably even worse than other men just to intimidate you as a woman.

You caught him in a bad mood and it seemed completely unrelated to work, but as his partner and soldier, he had to tell you things that you didn’t want to hear.

“Hey, I got your message Simon, didn’t mean for that to happen. Won’t let it happen again.” You place some things of yours down on the dresser as you enter his quarters. He’s standing there in thought, unreadable.

His mask is still on with his gear connected to his body.

“Damn right, you won’t.” He gruffs, heavy in his accent.

All you could do was question what this meant. Would he not let you do it again? Were you being thrown in a different squad?

“What does that mean?” You stop your moving for a direct answer. You almost took that personally.

He explains, “You made an impulsive decision that would have led to half our unit being taken out. The amount we sent to that building was more than usual.”

“I understand, and that was on me. In my defense though: it was a suggestion in the moment, one that the other members also formally agreed to. It wasn’t just me.” You giggle, even though you’re aware these aren’t giggling matters. You just needed to lighten the mood.

“There were 35 men in that building alone. Led by Gaz and König!”

He fully pronounced the words, turning to you aggressively. Had you known this was the severity of his mood, you never would’ve taunted him in any type of way. This was when he had to be your boss.

“I understand but-“

“It doesn’t matter who agreed! You are seen as a leader standing next to me and you introduced the idea. I cannot be there to stop you every time you do something stupid.” His eyes were laced with anger, an anger that arose out of the protection built for his squad over the years.

“Every time?”

He said that like you did something stupid every day. He’s had bad missions before too, and we should all just be happy everyone made it back safe. Well, maybe one or two. He quickly turns to you, but stays in his spot.

“Every bloody time. It’s the mission before that. Then that. You cannot keep jeopardizing this team.”

Despite the offense you took to his words, you understood him.

“I understand.” You speak. For the night, you split off into your own quarters, not wanting to anger him any more than you already have. You’ll just have to be better with your decisions. There’s more than just your life on the line now.

The next few days, you’ve been kind of stand off-ish, hoping he’d come to you when he was feeling so. Instead, you were all assigned a mission, one they’d put you in charge of. Naturally, you’d felt it best to prove yourself and win his attention back. He was still Simon, and you still loved him.

. .

You all returned back to base with a more than successful mission under your belt. This made you extremely happy, as it’s finally a good time to speak to him.

You approach his door, then knock. You never knock.

A deep, “Come in,” is all you get.

You walk in to him sitting at his desk, his back to the door.

“Hey,” is all you can muster. You’d had the balls to walk in, but Simon is still a scary man. Your hands come down from his shoulders to massage over his biceps.

“I’m sorry for the past few days. I hope I redeemed myself?” You try.

“Hm,” He grunts, standing from his desk and filing papers into the drawers. This made you a little wary.

“Are you feeling okay Simon?” You fiddle your fingers together as you watch him walk around to the other side of the table.

“Fuckin’ fabulous.”

Your hands drop. You’d expected something, or some type of praise. Instead, you got this.

“What’s wrong? I thought I did good this time?”

“Is there something you want?” He shoots back. You glance at him, then around the room, then the floor. “No? Alright then.” He continues on as if you aren’t there. You stand in disbelief.

“What has got you so upset Simon? You can talk to me.”

“Did ya come in my room with nothin to say? What are you here for?” he snaps back.

This was a knife in the heart. You’d been terrified of the business portion of your relationship engulfing the rest, but you didn’t want to believe it. Maybe that wasn’t the case. Maybe it wasn’t you.

“Literally what is your problem?” You wanted to yell, but you couldn’t. It wasn’t in your nature. It didn’t feel right yelling at him.

You attempt to walk to his front, hoping that seeing your face would bring him some sense of calmness or bring him back down to Earth, but that was long gone. He’d lost all professionalism or softness.

Or maybe that was just it, and there was too much professionalism.

You reach him and plead, “Simon please, let me help y-“

“Fuckin’ hell, I don’t need your goddamn help!”

His head whips around, and that was all it took for you to realize the severity of everything going on. You’d physically retracted back and flinched. It’d been a long time since you’d done that.

“What do you want?” He throws the pen he’d held to the wall, and if you could see, you’d say there was a visible dent. That was your second step back, and you only took more as he came forward powerfully, his frame enlarging with each step.

“I-“

“Do you want me to praise you for your fuckin’ job? Now that you’ve decided to take it seriously?” He growls.

This was completely untrue, it wasn’t easy getting into 141, and it didn’t take anything but seriousness. Despite this, it didn’t take away from how his voice seemed to reverberate through your bones. You were retreating from him the best you could, but you didn’t want to look away, afraid it’d make him angrier.

Your hands felt around behind you as you got closer and closer to the wall, but not before detecting a small table that almost had you stumbling backwards when you knocked it over. Along with some more pens, a vase fell, shattering about and leaving tiny shards for your feet to step on the one day you decided not to wear the house slippers Gaz always made fun of you for.

He could literally take your breath away, but the piercing sensation under you couldn’t compare to the expression he wore that was dripping with malice. You felt like prey under a predator, caged to the wall with nowhere to go.

Your back hit with a thump, your hands flying back to the wall but close to your figure. You’d wanted to put them between you two, hoping it’d prevent him from coming closer, but it wouldn’t work. So now you search for separation by forcing your cheek against the wall, eyes frantically darting back and forth between nothing in particular and the raging man towering over you. You don’t think you could look at him anymore.

You whisper, “S-Simon. Please-”

He was so close his breath was to your ear as he leaned over. You were scared. In fact, you’d spoke it so lightly, you don’t even remember if you did or if it was just a thought.

“This,” he was referring to today, “is absolute bare minimum. Your job is to take orders, then get it done with the least. Casualties. Possible. Do you understand me?” He enunciates every part of the sentence, every word, so deep and low but strong that you had no choice but for it to be engraved in your brain. He was infuriated.

You didn’t want to breath too hard, afraid it’d also upset him, so your shortness of breath had you quickly nodding. The last words had you trembling.

“Do you fuckin’ understand me?” His words seem to shake the room, booming loud and clear enough to make you flinch again and your eyes squeeze shut. It was even worse than before—you were terrified.

He made you feel like a little girl again, answering to her father that she could never seem to impress no matter what she did. That’s why she joined the army. So she could be in charge.

But it didn’t stop because your eyes had to blink open to reality, and the time bomb called a response was ticking, just like his already gone patience. It also didn’t stop things from getting blurry, and before you knew or could stop it, there was a tear gathering that eventually released to your cheek.

“Y-yes sir,” you whimper on unsteady breath, Closing your eyes in prayer he would retreat. He was there for a little longer, but once you felt his presence leave back into the heart of his room, you still didn’t move an inch. You eventually shuffled uncomfortably to the door, not even feeling okay enough to close it behind you. You dashed as fast as one could go with millions of tiny glass in their feet, and before tending to it, you shut your door and fell to your butt with your back pressed against it and cried.

It’d been so long since you’ve cried over this specific issue; you thought you’d left it behind you. You technically had, but it was reawakened. The mission fatigued you, and you were so exhausted, but the only reason you didn’t lay your head down in the bed and fall asleep was the glass that would distribute painfully throughout your sheets.

You wrapped your feet and slipped into the night with the occasional sob.

. .

Sometime in the night, your locked room was intruded, assumingely by the one man graced with a key. Large hands scooped you up effortlessly, before bringing your head to one shoulder. You felt warm lips seep into your forehead.

He whispered things to you, things you couldn’t hear, but your head was held protectively with his strong hand over your ear. You’d been rested in another bed, one that smelled like him. He removed the tape from your feet and actually cleaned your wounds before tucking you in and sliding in beside you.

He felt like he didn’t deserve it, the guilt enough to bring him to tears, but he also felt like he didn’t deserve to cry. So instead, he tucks your head into his body closer, praying the sleeping version of you would recognize this as an apology until the morning.

©️ hxltic pt.2!

#cod mwf2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod modern warfare #ghost x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #cod angst #cod mw ghost #ghost angst #cod ghost #cod ghost angst #call of duty mw2 #call of duty mwii #call of duty #call of duty ghost #ghost call of duty #mwii #mw2 #ghost mwii

[monzabee]

pon de replay - cl16 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where Charles decide to prove to everyone that it is him that you belong to, and only him.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader 

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: smuttt, nothing but pure filth, one might even say it is pwp, unprotected sex (cover your willy don’t be silly), oral (f receiving), kinda exhibitionism?, public sex, jealous charles, possessive charles, carlos being a little shit because he’s bored, poor lando, not even sure if i fulfilled the request or not, minors dni!! 

Request: “HELLOOOO! i have an idea and you don’t have to write it but it’s been rattling around in my brain and im never gonna write it (i constantly have way too many ideas to write them fr) myself so i figured i’d send it to you cause you’ve kinda restored my F1 phase with your work. basically, reader being very goofy, funny, and maybe a little bit too loud at times. just like a very silly and bubbly personality and she hangs out with some of the f1 boys (maybe because she’s famous in her own right like a dancer or something) so naturally EVERYONE ships her with lando. like hardcore, almost as bad as one direction fans ships (iykyk), and it sorta makes sense cause when they’re together it’s pure and utter chaos and they both express themselves with physical touch B U T ! she’s actually with charles. to her it makes total sense to be with charles instead of lando cause while lando is definitely attractive he’s too much like her and it’d be like dating herself whereas charles brings out a new calm side to her and she can bring out a goofier side to him. opposites attract type shit😭. maybe a little angst cause charles hates seeing all the edits and also feels a little insecure cause lando and reader DO make sense together in his mind so why’d you pick him instead? then like soft fluff/smut reassurance that charles is literally the man of her dreams, a literal fucking prince, and the best person she’s ever been with. ANYWAYS, im rambling! again, you don’t have to write this if you don’t connect with it or don’t have time i just needed an outlet SOMEWHERE for all the F1 brain rot.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i first of all want to start by saying that i’m very sorry that this isn’t exactly like the request, like at all, but it took me a criminal amount of time to actually get this finished so we’re not going to focus on that. okay? okay, great!! in all and all it was actually quite fun to work on this at the beginning, it was just kinda hard for some reason to work on the actual smut part, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Charles wouldn’t call himself a possessive person, not a chance. He might be ambitious, and competitive, but possessive? That, he is not. He’s never been the type of get jealous of his partner’s friends, whether male or female, because he likes to think that he is mature enough to understand that people have friends. It’s that simple. And he is most definitely not the type of person to comment on what you wear when you’re going out, he is just not that guy. He’s fairly certain that his mother would materialise out of thin air and give him a good beating if he were to do that. So when you asked him about the dress you have on earlier before you left his apartment, the one that clings to your body so tightly that he can practically make out the outline of your tits from across the room? He just smiled and told you to have fun tonight – because he’s there to make sure you’re not put off by anyone staring at you in it.

So yeah. He’s not usually the type to let the jealousy take over his ability to think things out rationally, but when his girlfriend is dancing her heart away in the middle of the dance floor while every red-blooded men watch her with the same look in their eyes? Yeah, it’s not easy to keep his emotions in check at the moment given the circumstances. And it’s not that he even intends to pout like a petulant child at the bar, making sure to keep an eye on you, it’s just that he is an expressive person and his face reflects what he’s feeling that well. Totally because of that. It’s scary how utterly focused he is on you, watching your every move to make sure no one is bothering you, though you don’t seem to be in need of his help as he watches you dance with one of the girls you met when you first arrived to the club – and with Lando, though he tries not to focus on that part too much.

It's fine, though, he tries to make himself believe, it’s fine as long as you’re having fun. Though that doesn’t necessarily stop him from throwing daggers into Lando’s direction as covertly as he can. The way he has a friendly arm around you is driving him crazy, and he is not above stomping over there to pull you under his arm, drag you to the nearest bathroom and– Well, maybe he shouldn’t get too far ahead of himself just yet.

“They look good together, no?” He hears someone ask him from the side. He realises it is his teammate when he turns to give the person a glare.

“Who?” He asks, deciding to play dumb, but he can’t help himself as he makes a face while focusing his gaze back on you.

“You know who I’m talking about, cabrón!” Carlos exclaims, laughing as he pats him on the back and points to the two of you with a tilt of his head, “I’m glad he’s finally doing something about it rather than sulking around like a geriatric toddler.”

If he would have turned around any faster, Charles is sure his neck would actually, possibly, break. “What?” he spits out as he turns around, “Do you mean her and Lando?”

Carlos gives his teammate a confused look, “Yes,” he drawls out, “you didn’t know he had a crush on her? I thought the entire paddock knew!” Charles feels a surge of disbelief and a tinge of anger bubbling within him.

He wouldn't call it possessiveness, more like a primal instinct to protect what's his. But this revelation catches him off guard, shattering his carefully constructed facade of nonchalance. With doing his best to keep calm under the situation, he asks, “Are you sure you’re not making things up? I feel like you’re misreading the situation here.”

That receives another confused look from his teammate, and though Charles is quite the perceptive person, he misses Carlos starting to put the pieces together – thanks to his overreaction. “I guess so,” Carlos mumbles, loud enough for Charles to hear him in the loud club, “he’s always talking about her, though. The way she smiles, her hair, her dresses; did you know he even went to see one of her performances in Vegas?” Carlos feels bad, really, but there is also something so fulfilling in confirming his theories as he watches his teammate’s eyes bulge out at the mention of one of your dance shows in Vegas. Because Charles knows what those entail.

“I-in Vegas?” He stutters out, eyes moving to focus on your dancing figure again. And at that moment, he absolutely hates Lando. He hates him for having his arms around you, he hates him for dancing with you to the beat in a rhythm he never seems to be able to keep up with, he hates him for the way everybody seems to think the two of you seem to make a handsome couple, and he absolutely hates him for the way he makes you smile.

Charles Leclerc is not a possessive guy – until it comes to you, that is.

“Charles?” He hears Carlos call out his name, but he’s out of his seat long before he can hear the end of his sentence. He doesn’t mean to stomp across the dance floor to get to you. He really doesn’t. He also doesn’t mean to grab you by your arm and put a pause on your fun. And the smile you give him and the way you wrap your arms around his neck while you call him ‘Charlie’? Makes his heart stutter in a way that makes him forget why he ever came over in this first place. Because this should be normal – you, having male friends and spending time with them should not make him insecure. He should be fine with you and Lando spending time together because you both love the hustle and bustle of a club. But at that moment, he doesn’t care about what should be normal, no. He cares about the fact that someone other than him has managed to make you smile, and that he needs to remind you that he’s the only one who should be on the receiving end of all your smiles.

So when he drags you away from the dancefloor (and Lando, for that matter), he doesn’t listen to your objections. He doesn’t care about the way Carlos is watching from his place from the bar, putting all the pieces together as he shares a look with Lando. And he most definitely doesn’t care about the fact that he’s about to fuck you in the club’s bathroom. Well, maybe he does care about that last part. “Charlie,” you whine, your voice clearly scratched from shouting along the lyrics of the songs playing throughout the night, and he doesn’t miss the way you slur his name ever so slightly – which tells him that you had at least two drinks. Cosmopolitans, if he had to guess. “Pleaaase,” you drag out the word, pulling on his shirt to get his attention, “they are playing my song!”

His first mistake is to look at you, because the way your lips form a pout and the way you’re giving him puppy dog eyes is usually strong enough for him to give in. Though this is no usual situation. So instead of moving the two of you back to the dancefloor, he grabs you by your cheeks and presses his lips against you. In the middle of the club, where everybody can see him doing it. The way his lips move against yours is aggressive, and you’re definitely out of breath when he does move away. Cosmopolitans, he realises after tasting you. You've had cosmopolitans. Then, he just gives you a look, threads his fingers through yours and raises an eyebrow. Then he asks, “Are you going to be a good girl and come with me now, or should I do this the hard way and just carry you on my shoulder?”

If this was any other situation, you would totally say something bratty back. Hell, you might have actually said something rude if it meant him being rough with you, maybe spanking you a few times just enough times for you to learn your lesson. But you understand that this is no ordinary situation from his voice and the expression on his face. Charles is like that, you suppose. He’s an open book – meaning that it is very easy to understand what kind of a mood he’s in just by looking at his face, or listening to the undertone of his voice. And right now? Right now you know he’s pissed. You don’t necessarily know what you did, nor do you care. Mainly because all you want to do is make him feel better simply because of the reason that he is one of those people who’s just meant to smile at all times, not frown.

And so you nod gingerly, squeaking out a thimble, “Yes.” You finally meet his eyes as you wrap yourself around his arm, pushing yourself closer to him in the crowded club. “I’ll be good.”

This thumb does that thing where he caresses your knuckle, and he starts moving you through the crowd again. This time, however, you try to stick to him by matching the speed of his steps rather than trying to stay back. You told him you’d be good, you intend to keep your promise. He’s quiet all the way to the bathroom, and he’s quiet when he motions you to get inside, and he’s quiet when he closes to door and promptly locks it behind your back. You think for a moment you’re just there for a chat, maybe about that something you might’ve done, but Charles takes you by surprise as he grabs your waist and pushes you against the door, causing your eyes to widen with realisation of what you’re about to do in that bathroom.

“Charles, what’s wrong?” You try to ask, but he shuts you up with another kiss. And if you thought the previous kiss was aggressive, this one absolutely consumes you. He doesn’t even give you a fighting chance as his tongue quickly dominates yours, and he is relentless as he nips at your lower lip. You can’t help the mortifying moan that leaves your lips, and you push him away to inhale deeply. “What has gotten into you?” You ask, eyes wide due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins, “What happened?”

“You, happened.” He growls. And by that, you mean that he actually growls. His voice is a few octaves deeper than his usual voice, and you can see that he’s snappy. There is this dark look in his eyes that would otherwise scare you if you didn’t know him, but you do. Because he’s your Charles.

And you know this because the quickly leans into your touch when you bring one of your hands up to cup his cheek, giving him a confused look. “Did I do something?” You ask, voice soft amidst the humid bathroom. “Oh my god, is it my dress? Is it too short?” Your eyebrows draw closer as you start properly spiralling. “I knew I should’ve worn the shorts, why didn’t you say something?”

Your mini monologue about your party attire must have struck a chord because Charles suddenly exhales heavily, his forehead resting against yours as he closes his eyes. “No, non, it's not about the fucking dress,” he lashes out, his voice strained, and lace with something else that you can’t quite catch. “I don’t care what you wear, though I do appreciate the easy access.”

“Easy access?” You repeat, testing out the words as you come to a realisation. “What?” You exclaim, quickly taking your hand away from his face to lightly slap at his chest. “No! We are definitely not doing that here, are you out of your mind? You pulled me away because you can’t keep it in your pants until we’re home?”

“And why not?” He asks, and this time, you can see the unbridled rage behind his look. “Would you rather go back to Lando out there? You looked quite happy in his arms after all.”

And the realisation dawns on you right then and there. That this isn’t about your choice of dress for the evening, no. It is about Lando. Though you don’t get that part, since he’s both of your friend, so why is Charles being like this? And you would ask him, of course. But the look he gives you indicates that he doesn’t want to be tested in that exact moment.

So instead, you attempt to calm him down, by dragging your hand gently down his chest and wrapping your arms around his middle. He is like that, your Charles, sometimes he just wants to be held to see reason. “Charlie,” you call out, voice soft as you give him a pleading look, “why don’t you tell me what this is about, hm?”

You think he’s going to finally give in for a moment, but then he just gives you a blank stare. “I don’t want to talk,” he grunts, pulling you flush against him by the hands he has on your waist. His lips are on your neck faster than you can say anything, working his way towards your collarbones. The faint whimpers that come out of your lips bring a small smile to his lips knowing that he’s the one causing them, not Lando or any other guy.

“Charles,” you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips trail along your skin. Despite the confusion and frustration swirling within you, you can't deny the way his touch ignites a fire deep within you, consuming your thoughts and leaving you breathless with desire. But as much as you crave his touch, you know that there are unresolved issues between you, issues that need to be addressed before you can fully give yourself to him in this moment. “Charlie,” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper as you gently push against his chest, urging him to stop. “Stop, we need to talk about this.”

“Talk about what?” He asks, all breathy and with a wild look in his eyes. You can see that he’s trying to hold himself back, but at the same time his hands keep moving on your body in a way that makes you want to let him lose control and perhaps even join him. He successfully ignores your attempts at pushing him away, sliding his hands down on your body to grab the hem of your dress, clenching the material in his hand while dragging it upwards on your thighs until he reaches the soft skin of your stomach. “I have a thing in mind which might help me feel better.” Unable to take your eyes off of him, you take a stuttered breath as you watch him slowly get down on his knees, his lips pressing kisses starting form your sternum continuing down your body over your dress until you feel his lips on the exposed skin of your stomach. His kisses stop once he’s met with the top lining of your underwear, looking at you with a mischevious glint in his eyes as he nips at the nimble lace adorning the top. You call out his name in a weak whimper – though it is not clear to you, nor him, whether you’re asking him to stop or go on. Charles decides to go with the latter. “You know what to say if you want me to stop.”

You don’t really need his reminder, you realise, but it is a welcome one. Your cheeks blush even further when you feel his gaze on you as he lowers his face towards your core, leaving a sweet kiss onto your clit through the fabric of your thong. Suddenly, you want nothing more than to just rip to whole thing apart so there is nothing separating you from him, but you know the game, and you especially know that the ending is sweeter than what you could ever imagine at that moment. And so you wait – you wait until he eventually makes his move and gives your slit a generous lick through the fabric. Watching you is equal parts thrilling and painful, mainly because he wants to drag out his teasing as long as possible just to see you falling apart for him. It’s second nature to you, the way your hand threads through his hair to move him the way you want to, but it is of course not an option because it’s Charles who is in charge.

He makes this known by the way he pulls away, ignoring the way your hands scramble to guide him back to where you want him to be. He nips at the skin of your thigh in a warning manner, pulling a whine from your lips as he fixes you with a look, “You’re not in control tonight, mon bijou, I’ll stop if you try to take over. You got that?” It’s sobering to see him take control in such a way, you sweet little Charles. Usually, he has no problem just laying back and letting you take all the control, or even just making you believe you do. But now? With the way he’s looking at you with such hunger? You know you’d be soaking through your underwear if you weren’t so wet for him already. All you can do is offer him a meek nod, with your lips hanging open in shock, but he is not satisfied with your answer. No, he needs to hear you say the words. So, being the initiative person that he his, he tips at your skin again, this time earning himself a whimper along a grumble about how he’s being unreasonable. He isn’t, but that’s a topic to discuss another time, he decides. “I said, you got that?”

“Yes! Fine, yes!” You whine, grabbing your dress even tighter with your fist that isn’t buried in his hair, “Please just make me come.”

“See?” He asks, flashing you a sweet smile as he lowers his face back onto where you need him the most, “It wasn’t that hard now, is it?” The grumble about how he’s about to be the hard one, makes him chuckle to himself, the rumbling from it making you moan his name as he finally gives you what you want. His tongue works fast as he laps on the wetness through your underwear, soaking the material even more without a care in the world. If you weren’t wet before, you’re sure you’re definitely wet as he drags his tongue through your slit and back onto your clit to suck it through the fabric, causing you to let out a string of moans, each getting considerably louder as he works on your cunt.

The breath is knocked out of your lungs as the moments pass, as you become closer and closer to your impending release. You don’t even notice the fact that you’ve started to move your hips to match the rythym of his tongue, seeking something more to make you tip over the edge. You’re also very aware of the fact that Charles is letting you what you want to do, and though you’re scared out of you midn that he’ll stop like he threatened to do before, the little nod he gives you when you give him a pleading look assures you that he also wants you to come undone on his face.

Or so you’ve thought.

Because he knows your body so well that jus as you’re about to come he pulls back, leaving you high and dry, and even has the nerve to chuckle when he hears his name coming out of your mouth in a high pitched whine. You’re so lost in the moment that you almost miss the way he gently grabs your hands and removes them from his hair, pinning them above you and pushing you against the wall. “Why?” You whine, lips pushed out in a pout as your voice gets gradually whinier, “I was so close, Charles.”

“Oh, baby,” he cooes, “I know you were, I could feel it too.” He starts peppering your feverish skin with kisses, as if to say sorry for leaving you on the brink of an orgasm, and you find yourself arching your neck to expose more of your skin to his skillfull lips. You should stop him, some part of you screams to you in your head, because with the way he’s disguising the fact that he’s marking you with hickeys, but you don’t care at that moment. Your every breath and moan seem to motivate him to work faster, and harder, and when he eventually pulls back to leave a bruising kiss on your lips. A smirk finds its way onto his lips as he gives you an eyeing down, taking in how breathless you look. “Don’t worry, mon bijou, I’ll fuck you now, okay?”

You don’t even realise the nod you give him, too lost in his eyes to put words together to form a proper sentence. He’s gentle with you as he lets go of your hands and positions you the way he wants. With one of your legs wrapped around his hip he has better access to your soaked underwear, his fingers working quickly to pulling it aside. You don’t know when he managed to get himself free from his pants and underwear, but that doesn’t stop you from letting out a loud moan when you feel the tip of his cock circling your clit. “Please, please, please,” your voice cracks as you frantically beg him to do something more. You’d love nothing more than to scold him for the way he shushes you condescendingly, but any complaint you had evaporates when you feel him nudge your entrance. “Please,” you breathe out again, giving him pleading looks as you try to pull him closer somehow, “You promised me you’d fuck me.”

That manages to pull out a beathy chuckle for him, and as if he’s trying to console you, you feel his fingers gently caressing the skin of your hip. “Why don’t you do it yourself, hm?” A grin widens on his lips when you give him a look of confusion, and he leads one of your hands between your bodies for you to wrap it around his cock. “You want me inside you, right?” He rewards your tentative nod with a series of kisses down the column of your throat, “Come on then,” he mumbles into your skin, “put it in, pretty girl.” Exhaling a shaky breath, you keep your eyes on him as you guide him through your entrance. A gasp is torn from your lips when you feel his tip entering you, the initial stretch being more overwhelming because of the fact that you’re standing up. But Charles is quick to soothe you with his kisses down your neck, letting you control the rhythym and how further he can move inside you at first. With your hand making its way down to his hip, pressing him close to you, he quickly gets the message that you’re ready for him. “You’re ready?” He double-checks, raising his head to fix his eyes to yours.

“I swear to god if you don’t fuck me right now–” Your words are interrupted when you feel him move his hips back, just enough to have his tip inside you, and then he snaps his hips forward to thrust back in, making your breath hitch at the back of your throat. It doesn’t take very long for you to become a moaning mess, in fact, you’re more than ready to fall apart for him then and there, but you know he won’t let you until he gets his point across.   

“Look at you, mon bijou,” Charles darkly chuckles, hips matching the rhythym of the song playing outside at the dance floor, “what would people think if they saw you being such a mess for me in a club’s bathroom?” And the whine you let out in response to his question nothing if pathethic, but you can’t find it in you to care because of how good he’s making you feel. “Yes?” He prompts you, mocking the whiny ‘Yes’, that leaves your mouth before you start begging him to let you come. But he doesn’t, because he knows you can hold it until he’s ready for you too, and he tells you just that.

“So good, Charlie, so good,” you can’t help the broken moans you let out as he fucks you to the brink of an orgasm. But that is not enough for him, no. He needs everyone to know the two of you are together now, needs to get out all of his pent up frustrations out.

So when the opportunity presents itself with Lando knocking on the door asking if you are okay? A knowing smirk find its way onto his lips, and you try to silently plead with him with your eyes. “You want to cum?” He whispers in your ear, his thrusts becoming faster. “Say my name if you want to come, baby.”

“Please–” You gasp, hands grabbing the shirt he’s wearing. It’s no avail even if you try to keep your voice down. Because when Charles finds a way to slither his hand down between your legs and starts rubbing your clit in firm circles? You know there is no way you can stay quiet through your orgasm. “Why?” You manage to get out, “God, Charles please.”

“Tell me who’s making you feel so good, pretty girl.” He encourages you, his rhythym now almost brutal as he tries his best to make you come for him. “Come on, tell me who you belong to.” He chuckles darkly when he sees you shaking your head. “It’s not Lando, it’s me. You hear that?” Uh-huh, is the only answer he receives in return, but he is of course not satisfied with it. So, he gently pinches the inside of your thigh. “Tell me who’s going to make you come, or I’ll stop.”

“N-no!” You exclaim, too overwhelmed to see that his threat is an empty one, because he would never actually do something like that to you. “Please, please don’t stop.”

“Come on,” he cooes, the sweet words he whispers into your skin making you more and more malleable to his request. “Say my name baby, let me hear you.”

“Charles,” your loud moan cuts the heavy air in the bathroom. Cheeks flushed, breath unorganised and with that wild look in your eyes? There’s nothing Charles wouldn’t do for you. With every move of his hips, you moan his name louder, eventually tipping over the edge as he feels you squeezing his cock so tight that he almost loses himself then and there.

That’s not to say he doesn’t, of course. Because just as you’re about done with your orgasm, you feel him come inside you, chanting your name alongside mine, mine mine. It takes a long time for the both of you to get back to your senses, but he’s extremely gentle with you as he helps you down and fixes your underwear. You find yourself snuggling up to him when he eventually takes you into his arms after fixing his own clothing, nuzzling your nose to his neck. “You know, I think I like the jealous side of you.” You mumble, leaving a few kisses across his jaw.

“Yeah?” He asks, a breathy chuckle leaving him as he cradles your face with both of his hands, his thumbs caressing the apples of your cheeks.

“Yeah.” You nod, giving him a small smile, “But I need you to take me home, please, I can feel your cum dripping down my leg.”

“Oh baby,” he coos, tutting as he slides his hands down your body to grab you by the waist, “we’re not going home, it would be rude to leave our friends by themselves. Don’t you think so?” The flabbergasted look that you give him makes another chuckle come from his lips as he slowly turns you towards the door. His lips find the junction between your neck and shoulder again as he announces, “We’re going to go back out there, and we’re going to dance. We wouldn’t want you to miss your song now, would we?”

And when he opens the bathroom door and you hear the first words to a Rihanna song you love? You know it’s going to be a long night ahead of you.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff

[pierregazly]

all of you ꨄ george russell

george russell x fem!reader

warnings: smut (18+ only), unprotected sex, slight dom!george, ass slapping, typical smut warnings. mentions of anxiety, hateful comments, self-conscious thoughts [4.2k wc]

in which george has to prove to his girlfriend she's the most precious person to him and the only one for him (aka pure filth)

The comments didn’t happen often, as least not as often as they used to.

He had told you from the start what may happen, the things people would likely say, the looks people would give; you could never deny that he forewarned you as much as he possibly could about the inevitable. The inescapable unkindness and negativity that came from people who didn’t even know you, people who had never met you, and would likely never meet either of you.

They were ruthless.

At times, the comments were laughable, the extent that strangers would go to attempt to put you down. The humour in them could only be seen for so long when they continued to come, what seemed like a never-ending stream of notifications clogging up your phone as you tried to ignore the comment after comment, message after message.

It was easy to try and convince yourself that it happened to everyone. You saw the damage it did to certain relationships, the way girls would question if they were enough for their famous partners, the way accounts would go private days after their boyfriend’s introduced them to the world.

Even with that in mind, it was hard not to feel as if every rude comment, every ignorant message, every untrue word was coming from an unspeakable truth that George himself actually thought.  

That’s how you found yourself here. Wrapped up in the blankets of your shared bed, your phone thrown lazily on the side table next to your head. The rabbit hole of scrolling had been too enticing, yet again. One comment led to ten, that led to thirty and then eventually you found yourself so deep in a Twitter thread about your relationship that you couldn’t pull yourself out of until it was over.

George had only been gone for half-an-hour when you found yourself scrolling through everything. It was impossible to do it when he was home, your physical and emotional reactions to everything you read a clear indicator of what you were doing.

He was a good boyfriend, a great one, even. Kind, loving, attentive to all your wants and needs, he tried to do everything in his power to protect you from the messages and words he regularly heard about from other drivers on the grid.

But he couldn’t be there every second of every day. You definitely didn’t want him to be, either. You didn’t want him to see the sadness in your eyes when your phone was carelessly thrown onto the table, the subconscious scratching of your forearm as you tried to calm yourself down, the way your eyes would search down your skin for any imperfections, anything that would convince George that you weren’t enough for him, that you weren’t perfect enough to be the girlfriend of a Formula 1 driver.

Your thoughts were rudely interrupted when you heard the front door of your apartment open and then close shut. Looking at the clock, the numbers looked back at you as a soft groan fell from your lips.

You had spent the last 3 hours going through an array of emotions, not even realizing how much time was surging past. George had told you three times what time he would be home, even going out of his way to text it to you just to make sure you remember.

The bedroom door opened, the soft light from the hallway flowing into the darkened room prompting you to curl tighter into the blankets held in your fists.

“You’re still in bed, my love? It’s going on two in the afternoon, darling,” George murmured into your ear as he pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your forehead, his lips peppering down your cheek as you swatted at him jokily.

The concern emitting from him was evident when he pulled back from your skin, lightly pushing on your shoulder so that he could look you in the eyes. You held back the sigh as you looked up at him, your lower lip finding its way between your teeth as his thumb moved to glide down your jawline.

“What’s wrong? Why do you look so sad? Have you been crying?”

The questions shot out of George’s mouth instantaneously, his hand cupping your face as he sat down on the bed next to your curled up body. He was always so bloody attentive. You hated it. But you loved him.

Shrugging your shoulders, your teeth continued to gnaw on your bottom lip as you attempted to keep the quivering at bay. You didn’t want to tell him what you were doing before he got home, you couldn’t tell him. He’d be upset at you for doing it again, inevitably frustrated that you continued to go back and hurt yourself this way.

“Talk to me, sweet girl. Something’s wrong, I can see it. I can’t read your mind, though. Not yet at least,” he ended his sentence with a wink, trying to prompt at least a giggle from your quivering lips.

Closing your eyes as you felt his thumb continue to glide across your cheekbone, “I just… I saw some things, online. Like, not nice things, and it just kind of bothered me, I guess. I don’t know. It’s not a big deal, don’t worry.”

George’s reaction time was too quick for your attempt to turn your body to face away from him, his arm instantly encircling you and trapping you from moving. What seemed like annoyance was present on his face, his lips pursued, his nose scrunched, and a slight red hue sliding down his cheeks.

“What kind of things did you see online? Comments again? Messages?”

He was annoyed, it was obvious now. His voice had taken on that tone he gets after every bad race, angry with a bit of slight frustration at the circumstances.

“Just comments about me again, on one of those wives and girlfriends Instagram and Twitter accounts. You know how it is… It’s not a big deal, I shouldn’t have even been scrolling down them, I know,” you couldn’t look him in the eye as you mumbled through your sentence, the quiver in your lip becoming more obvious as you continued through your words.

Something that sounded like a groan and a growl mixed came from George’s throat, his hand that was cupping your cheek forcing you to look up at him. The tears glistening in your eyes instantly made any reprimand he was about to give dissipate, his concern for you taking over.

“What kind of stuff, sweet girl?”

Shrugging again, your words came out soft and sad, “About how I’m not good enough for you, how it would make more sense if you were still with Nick’s sister. Stuff about how obvious it is the other girlfriends don’t like me, how I’m probably such a stressor for you and that’s why you haven’t been doing well lately.”

Your voice choked off at the end. Your hand reached down to scratch at your forearm, the subconscious coping mechanism to keep the tears at bay being prevented when George intercepted your hand with his unoccupied one, interlacing your fingers.

It was hard to decipher the emotion that was floating in the Brit’s eyes as they looked down into your own. He didn’t give you much time to examine them before he was pushing his head into the column of skin where your neck and shoulders met, his hand that was previously cupping your cheek moving so that it was gently playing with the accessible strands of your hair.

The light peppering of open-mouthed kisses on the exposed skin of your neck had you sighing again, George’s body moving so that it moulded around your own. His head moved up so that it was pressed beside yours, his lips pressing gentle kisses across your cheeks and nose.

“I wish you wouldn’t read those things; I don’t like you submitting yourself to that kind of emotional torture. It’s not fair to you, and it’s surely not fair to me.”

You couldn’t stop the sad sound that bumbled out of your throat at his words, but before you could get an actual word out, he continued.

“It’s not fair that I can’t stop you from feeling like this, or from seeing the comments or getting the messages. I know you didn’t sign up for this, when we started dating, you didn’t ask to be treated the way you are by strangers and see things that are so unfathomably untrue about yourself.”

Humming at his words, all you did was nod your head sadly as you looked at him, “I guess, yeah. I did it to myself, I don’t even know how I ended up on one of those accounts again.”

“Let me prove that everything they’re saying is wrong.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement, that fell from his lips as he pulled back to look down at you. A fire was ignited in his eyes, his hand that was in your hair moving to caress lightly down your side.

“You don’t need to prove anything, Georgie. It’s okay, I’ll get over it.”

Shaking his head adamantly, his hand moved back up to cup your cheek as his eyes bore into your own, “Please let me prove that they’re wrong, that you’re the most perfect person for me, let me prove how I feel about you every single time I look at you; or think about you.”

His head moved down, his lips hovering over yours as soft breaths fell from your open mouth. All it took was a soft agreement from you before his lips descended, all the passion and love he could give pouring into the kiss. His tongue gently prodded at your bottom lip, asking for permission to enter as you opened your lips slightly, allowing for your tongues to battle against each other for dominance.

George nipped at your bottom lip, his teeth pulling it back slightly as his head moved up to look down at you, the hunger and adoration present in his eyes. You couldn’t help the small whimper that fell from your lips at the way he was looking at you.

The noise prompted him to push his head back into your neck, sucking, kissing, biting, licking, whatever he could do to prompt little noises out of you, he was doing. His hands, previously placed lovingly on different parts of your face were pressing into your hips, gliding up and down the skin under your shirt.

As his hands pushed up the shirt, the ministrations from his lips and mouth continued their path down, his teeth gently nipping at the skin of your bare stomach. The grin was evident on the lips that were currently pressed to skin above your ribs as his hands finally reached their destination.

He gently plucked and pinched the rosy bud of your nipple, his unoccupied hand pushing the hem of your shirt all the way up to your neck so his eyes could get a look at what was hidden below.

“You know, sometimes after a bad race I think about these pretty things. I think about how beautiful they look when you’re fresh out of the shower, glistening, so hard and perky, basically begging me to wrap my lips around one of them and suck.”

George emphasized his final word by doing exactly what he had said, wrapping his lips around the rosy bud of your nipple, his teeth lightly scrapping against the skin as a small moan erupted from your lips. His hand gently kneaded the other, plucking and pulling on it. You couldn’t contain the lower half of your body as you pushed up into his thigh that had found itself between your legs, an easy object to press your core into for a sense of relief.

He alternated between both, now very hard, nipples, always emphasizing that he couldn’t leave one for too long as it just wasn’t fair.

“I think about how they’re going to look in my face, as you bounce up and down my cock, making the most pretty of sounds. It makes me have to pull up the photos of you sometimes when I’m in my driver’s room, makes me wish you were there with me, so I could bend you over the couch and make you feel as good as you always make me feel.”

Another whimper fell from your lips at his words, the room spinning around you as you tried to process everything he was saying. You could feel the sweat starting to bead on your forehead, the heat of your body’s pressed against each other causing you to push at the sweater that was still covering his chest. He took the hint, pulling back to shove it and the shirts underneath off, as you did the same with your own top.

Your hands immediately went to his abdomen, running across the hard muscle that was present there. He was just so beautiful; how did you deserve someone as amazing as this?

It was like he could sense your thoughts, his hands reaching down to pull your own off his body, moving them so they were trapped above your head.

“None of that, sweet girl. This isn’t about me, this is about me proving how you are the one for me, how the only stress you could ever cause me is if I made you cum hard enough, or if I made you cum enough times.”

Your hands remained trapped by one of his larger ones, his lips moving back to gently kiss and suck at the now-fully exposed skin of your stomach. He was inching closer and closer to where your body was craving him most, the heat of your core obvious to him when his unoccupied hand moved down to rub your most sensitive part through the panties that still covered your core.

The small moans continued to fall from your lips, practically begging for him to do more, to pull your panties to the side and touch you exactly where you were craving him, where you needed him. Except, he refused. George continued to pepper kisses across your stomach, occasionally far enough down that his chin was touching the fabric of your panties, but never close enough to where you were practically begging for his mouth.

Finally, his hand pulled your panties to the side, his reaction to your soaking core a mystery as an individual finger gently glided through the wetness. Bucking your hips up towards his hand, begging for any release was useless, the hand that was previously trapping your own above your head had moved to hold your hips down, a small smirk prominent on his face.

“Sometimes, more often than not, I think about coming home to this pretty pussy. I think about how you’re going to taste on my tongue, the pretty sounds that are going to fall from your lips as I glide my tongue through all of this waiting here for me. I think about you sitting on my face, your hands gripping our headboard as you ride my tongue, moaning my name as you take your own pleasure for yourself. I think about the sounds it makes when I finger you at the same time, how you gush all over my fingers and tongue. It drives me wild, baby.”

He was driving you wild. George was not usually one for dirty talk, was not usually one to articulate what he was doing or wanted to do. This… this was new.

The finger that was previously gliding through the wetness of your core gently prodded at the entrance, his eyes meeting yours as he pushed the single digit inside of you. Your eyes rolled back at the feeling, your lips opening in a silent moan.

George didn’t give you time to process before he was ducking his head, press an open-mouthed kiss to your inner-right thigh, then your inner-left, then the smooth skin beside your entrance. His finger was joined by another, the digits pumping into you, hitting the spots inside you that always made you cry out for him.

His tongue finally pressed lightly against the hood of your clit, the tip dragging against the bundle of nerves as your hips attempted to push up closer to his face. You hadn’t even realized his hand was still holding your hips down, a small groan of frustration leaving your lips at the realization.

He continued to lightly drag the tip against the bundle of nerves as his fingers stimulated the spots inside of you that you could never reach with your own fingers, it was so much and so little all at once. George knew your body like it was his own, knew what would drive you insane, how much teasing you could take, how much pressure and stimulation you could and couldn’t take, he knew exactly what would have you begging for him.

“George… baby please, please I need more.”

The humming that erupted from his throat against your clit launched a load moan to fall from your lips, the stimulation almost too much as you cried out. You could practically feel the grin on his lips as he finally flattened his tongue against your core, lapping up the wetness that was falling from your entrance every time his fingers pressed into you.

The sounds, the feeling, the groans, and grunts that fell from George’s lips as he pressed his own pelvis into the bed, his hips trying to find a little reprieve for the tent you were sure was present in his trousers; it was all too much.

Your core was seizing up, your previously empty hands had found themselves gripping the locks of George’s hair, pushing, and pulling his head in whatever direction they thought he was needed in. The feeling in your stomach was starting to grow as George’s tongue continued to lap at your clit, occasionally exchanging his tongue for his fingers to gather up more of your juices before they pushed back inside of you, loud moans falling from your lips each time.

Barely getting the chance to warn him as your legs started to tremble, your hips attempting to arch up, trying to push yourself closer to his face, his tongue, whatever you could. The euphoric feeling washed over you as you cried out, the orgasm ripping through your body. Your mind wandered as George’s fingers and tongue slowed down, gently licking you through your first orgasm of the night. You finally had to push his head away, your body slick with sweat as you looked down at him hazily.

“Was that good, baby?”

Nodding your head at him, you internally moaned as you watched him push the fingers that were previously inside of you into his own mouth, licking the essence of your body from them as he moved back up your body. You could feel how hard he was, the tent in his pants pressed up against your core as he gently pressed his lips to yours.

“I think about the face you make when you cum, all the time. Especially on the planes when we’re flying back from a long week away, I think about how I can’t wait to watch your eyes roll back, to watch your hips push up and your body quiver. How you have to push me away because you get so sensitive, how your pretty body can’t handle everything I’m trying to do to it.”

Whimpering at his words, you gently bit at his bottom lip, your hand snaking down in-between the both of you to pop the button on his trousers. He took the initiative to shimmy his pants down his legs, letting them fall to the floor before he instantly ground his core into your own; simultaneous moans falling from both of your lips.

“Gonna let me fuck you now, pretty girl? Let me make love to you, show you how you’re the only one I wanna do this with? How you’re the only one for me, period?”

Nodding your head eagerly at his words, he pressed his lips against yours again, continuing to press his core into your own as he ground down again. The only thing covering the both of you was his briefs and your soaked panties, your nails scratched down his back as his cloth-covered cock pressed against a particularly sensitive spot.

The Brit rolled off you to tug his briefs down, pulling your panties down your legs immediately afterwards. A frown marked your lips as you waited for him to get back on the bed, a smirk from him the only response.

“I want you on top, sweet girl. I wanna see every part of this beautiful body as I fuck up into you,” flopping down on the bed, he grabbed at your hips, his strength easily rolling your body over.

Situating yourself on top of him, you gently began to grind yourself against his member, the juices from your core making him slide through your folds easily. You groaned as the tip of his cock pressed against your clit every time you moved your body, George’s hands falling to your hips as he helped your body move.

It didn’t take long before your entrance was sliding down on his cock, the stretch as blissful as always. Your nails scrapped down his chest, your body getting used to his size, your eyelids half closed as you looked down into his eyes.

The only thing you could see was pure adoration, and lust. A smirk notched itself on his cheeks, one hand moving to your back to pull your chest down, so it was touching his, his lips attaching to your own as he began to push his hips up into you.

You tried to meet every thrust, the feeling of his member sliding in and out of you as he pushed up into you causing you to moan into his mouth. He took advantage of your mouth being open, his tongue finding its way inside to press against yours.

A squeal dropped from your lips, pulling you away from the kiss when his large hand connected with the cheek of your ass, an inevitable handprint likely forming as he grinned up at you. He did it again, lightly rubbing against the spot he hit as he continued to fuck up into you.

You pressed your chest back against his, your lips finding their way to his neck as your bodies moved in sync. His hands were now gripping your hips as he used his lower-body strength to thrust up into you, the speed and roughness of it all prompting sounds of pleasure to fall from both of your lips.

With the angle, your clit was pressed directly against him, the stimulation of his hips moving causing you to cry out. You could feel the euphoria coming back, the feeling of him drilling his hips into yours, his member sliding in and out of your soaking core, the press of his pelvis against your clit, it was all becoming too much.

George’s hips started to stutter, a good indication that he was about to cum as well. He pressed up into you, hard, a loud groan falling from his lips as he pulsated inside of you, emptying himself in your core as you leaked out around his cock.

He was breathing heavy as his hips fell, one hand lightly running down your spine as you tried to catch your breath against his shoulder. You could barely process how you were feeling right now, the words he had spoken during it all coming back to you as you tried to wrap your head around everything he had said.

Pulling back to look down at him, he smiled up at you, his hand going to cup the side of your cheek prompting you to subconsciously lean into it. “Did you mean what you said?”

“Which part, darling?”

“All of it, all the things you said like… during all that.”

A smug grin spread across his face at your words, prompting you to roll your eyes at whatever remark was about to fall from your boyfriend’s lips.

“You mean all the things I said while I was trying to make you soak my face?”

Groaning at his words, you slapped his chest at the vulgarity of them, the feeling from before not clouding your judgement any longer.

“I meant everything I said, my love. You mean the world to me, I don’t care what strangers on social media have to say about you, or about who I should be dating or what ‘make’s sense’. You’re all I want, you and this cute tush,” patting your ass in conjunction with his words, you smiled softly at him.

A quick peck to his lips was your only response, the smile remaining on your face as you took in his words.

this was pretty much just me having no self control lol, i havent written smut in ages so i apologize if it's a little rough. i hope everyone enjoyed!!

taglist

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#george russell #george russell x reader #george russell smut #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 smut #george russell x you #formula 1 x reader #george russell imagine #formula 1 #smut #gr63 #george russell fluff #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #my writing

[ugh-yoongi]

about u | jjk

❝ this song is about a love that you can’t reconcile—wanting to make a home out of a person that has proved to you time and again that they are not a home; they are just a person. it’s about retracing scars, negative patterns, all with the silent belief that moments of communion and understanding might justify months of misfiring and regret. we’re all just trying to get back to that ‘first high’ feeling—an honest endeavor, however futile. ❞

✤ PAIRING jungkook x f. reader ✤ GENRE exes to fwb to strangers, college/grad school au; angst, smut ✤ RATING explicit. minors do not interact. ✤ WARNINGS toxic & self-destructive behavior (inc. jealousy and possessiveness). infidelity (with an external partner). reader is bisexual (which is not a warning but a general statement so the homophobes stay away) and there is a brief mention of coming out. two people who are both too honest and unable to communicate. swearing. cigarettes and alcohol use. kissing, some spitting, fingering, oral sex, protected vaginal sex. every time i asked jess to read this over for me she always came back with "jfc jewel" so i guess this is angsty. unhappy ending. ✤ WORDCOUNT 7.3k ✤ LISTEN TO this was based off of "winterbreak" by muna, but there are bits and pieces of the entire about u album in here, "everything" and "outro" especially. ✤ THANK YOU to muna for writing the album, @the-boy-meets-evil and @hot-soop for reading over this for me multiple times and putting up with all my brainstorming and my beloved @here2bbtstrash for the extra set of eyes. ✤ AUTHOR'S NOTE hi, thank you for reading! i cannot emphasize enough how much more sense this story will make if you listen to about u in the background. i would also like to reiterate that these two are maybe not all that likeable most of the time, but i hope they're still human. as i once saw in an ao3 tag, you are more than the worst thing you've ever done.

[ the first. ] You’d read an article once—something about the second time you fall in love.

It’s going to feel different, it’d said. The first time felt like a dream.

As you stare across the kitchen at Jeongguk, you think that might be true. The part about it feeling like a dream, because it used to be a pinky-lavender haze and everything that has come after hasn’t felt so good. Not a nightmare, but close. At least with nightmares you can force yourself awake. You can tell yourself it wasn’t real. You can pretend.

This is as real as it gets, watching him smile over the rim of a plastic red cup. Someone else’s hand on his arm. The girl it belongs to looks nothing like you, and you wonder if she’ll be the second time he falls in love. You also wonder why you didn’t stay home. You wonder about fault and regret and if either of them even matter. No, you eventually decide: there’s just you in Taehyung’s kitchen and Jeongguk on the other side of it and the result of a million decisions in between you.

There had been a plenitude of reasons you’d fallen in love with Jeongguk, but he’s undoubtedly beautiful. Soft, tinkling laugh; a smile that reaches his eyes. Not all that long ago you used to be responsible for both, so there’s a lingering, bitter sting beneath your wonder. Jeongguk is beautiful and no longer yours, and that’s enough to have you retreating to the living room.

Jimin’s at your side immediately. Wraps an arm around your shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of your head that does little to alleviate your guilt. Missing someone is always easier with thousands of miles in between you. All those distractions. Just like a nightmare, distance lets you pretend. Not so easy to do when all those ghosts come back to haunt you; when you can still hear Jeongguk’s soft voice in the kitchen. The music is so loud but you’d be able to hear him anywhere, you think.

Even places he’s not.

Jimin leans down, forces his way into your personal space. “Are you doing okay?” he asks, and his words are warm and wrapped in alcohol, but you nod. You’re scared you might start crying if you open your mouth. Afraid of what might come out besides shuddering breaths, which just makes you feel stupid. Baby’s first breakup, you chide yourself. Maybe Jimin can get you a commemorative ornament.

Taehyung is turning twenty-four and it should be joyous. It is joyous. People that aren’t you are laughing and dancing and pressing their cheeks together as they huddle close to take selfies. Someone you don’t recognize is cackling wildly as they wrangle Taehyung into a headlock and smear cake frosting on his face. Someone else is tutting and running a rag under the tap to wipe it off and then the frosting is gone. It’s hard not to draw parallels.

There one minute and gone the next.

Gently wiped away.

But the feeling lingers, doesn’t it? The tack of the frosting, all the love that transpired between you and Jeongguk. Sometimes you fear it’s permanent—not able to be wiped away with a rag run under the tap, not able to be wiped away at all. Just this burden you’re cursed to carry, because Jeongguk isn’t and can’t be yours but knowing does nothing to erase the past. Doesn’t help you forget. It’s fucked and it’s unfair, but that’s just the way it goes.

“I think I should leave,” you say, watching another scene play out in the kitchen. Jeongguk fills a cup and hands it to a different pretty girl. Everyone here is so pretty. Makes sense; so is Taehyung. Pretty people are drawn to one another like that. “Is it too soon? Will it be obvious?”

Jimin sighs, wraps you in a hug. Says, “Oh, love,” in a way that’s too sympathetic. Makes you sound too pathetic. “No one will blame you. These things are hard.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Not that you don’t appreciate Jimin’s reassurance, but sometimes it all feels a bit silly. Weren’t you the one to walk away? Call it off? Are you allowed to mourn the very thing you destroyed?

And Jimin, bless him, is so patient with you. Asks if you need a ride home and you wave him off, remind him your parents’ place isn’t far, that the cold might do you some good. You tell him you appreciate him and his night shouldn’t be ruined on your account, and you just laugh when he tries to protest, tell him to go get himself another drink.

“Text me when you get home,” he says, voice stern, and you brush that off, too. “I’m serious. It’s late and it’s dark and anyone could be out there—”

“Maybe I should walk you home, then?”

All those articles you read about the second time you fall in love didn’t mention this. Said nothing about the way a voice will always be able to turn your world on its axis and how to right it again. Said nothing about how to coexist with ghosts. Said nothing about what to do with all the yearning and the pain and the stupid, selfish strands of hope. There are paragraphs about an overarching, general grief, but nothing about the specific one living inside of you.

The shock on Jimin’s face is reflecting your own. It’s nice to not be the only one caught off-guard and stammering over their words. It’s nice to have a friend when it feels like your entire world is on the edge of collapse. “I don’t…” he begins. Swallows thickly and turns to look at you, an obvious question biting at the back of his teeth.

You know the answer.

You know that what you should say isn’t what you want, just like you know it isn’t fair, this thing you’re doing. Because you turn to Jeongguk and say, “Are you sure?” which might as well be a yes, because you’re selfish and suspended in this liminal space and don’t want him to go home with anyone else. You don’t want him to move on.

He shrugs. “It’s on the way.”

You say okay. Let Jimin help you into your coat, hide his face in your neck as he tells you to be careful, and that stings. You’ve never had to be careful around Jeongguk before. The two of you never, ever hurt one another—until you did. The kind of hurt your heart hasn’t easily forgotten, is still stubbornly clinging to.

Your heart wants Jeongguk, always.

You want Jeongguk, always, so you let him grab your hand, link your pinkies together. You let him lead you out of the house and don’t turn back to see who might be watching. God, you want to, though. Want all those pretty girls to see that he’s leaving with you. Want them to know it’s your name that’s branded on his heart; your name beneath his skin. For once, you want someone to want what you have.

It’s strange. The two of you have been apart for eight months, and there’s a lot of things you might want to tell someone in that amount of time, but you find it hard now. Don’t know where to start, which words to use. Don’t want to say something stupid, because Jeongguk is just walking you home but you’ve assigned a lot of meaning to it, and eight months is a long time to yearn for something and finally get it.

So you say, “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” because it’s something that’s true and easy to say.

Jeongguk doesn’t answer right away. Drops your pinky so he can hold your hand properly—fully, all five fingers intertwined—and squeezes. “Is it weird for you?” he asks, and he doesn’t sound nervous. Almost sounds like he’s smiling a little, giving you shit. He sounds familiar.

“No. I don’t know. Maybe a little.” He asks why? at the same time he passes under a streetlight. Lights up golden and amber. He’s beautiful—“I don’t know. It’s just… I guess it’s just been a long time. We didn’t leave things the best.”—and no longer yours.

The Jeongguk walking beside you is not the same Jeongguk that walked out of your dorm eight months ago, tears staining his cheeks, the smell of a goodbye fuck still clinging to his clothes, his skin, sweat still dotting his hairline. This Jeongguk is sharper, more selfish with his laughter, and you wonder about all the ways heartbreak can change a person. How you’re changed for facilitating it. You wonder if Jeongguk blames you before deciding you’re too much of a coward to find out the answer.

“Was it that bad?” When you look over at him, he’s chewing on his lip ring, trying to bite back a smile. “You’ll have to remind me. I don’t remember.”

You stop walking, jerking forward when Jeongguk is left unaware and keeps going. “That’s not funny,” you say. “Jeongguk, that’s not—I did what I thought was best, okay? I thought I was doing the right thing—”

The smile drops from Jeongguk’s face. “Hey, hey, look at me,” he says, and he’s hesitant to reach out and touch you but he does it anyway. Cups your face in both hands. “I know, it’s okay. That’s just—it’s just life, right? You did what you had to do, babe. It’s okay.”

You did what you had to do, babe.

Did you?

Jeongguk is selfish with his laughter but never his affection, and knowing that feels like an albatross around your neck. You have broken him so entirely, but he’s still kind to you, finds it a worthwhile thing to be.

His eyes go to your lips. Tattooed fingers dimple your face just a little more, dig in deeper. When you dare to take him in, he looks… different. No longer amused, the way he was just seconds ago; now, there’s something dark there. Longing, anger, hunger. Jeongguk looks like he wants to swallow you whole and make you suffer; looks like he wants to cage you beneath him and worship you through the comedown.

I’d let him, you think as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. As you smell the smoke that lingers, the sweat and the alcohol. I’d still let him.

It’d be so easy to press a kiss there. To feel his skin beneath your lips: flushed, still warm from the party, not all daunted by the bitter winter wind biting at your cheeks. As you lean in further, you wonder if it’ll taste the same. You wonder how much can change in eight months and if all those old comforts change, too. If it’s something inevitable.

Jeongguk moves his hands to your waist. Crawls his fingertips beneath your jacket and finds bare skin. Sucks in the smallest bit of air, and you would’ve missed it had it been any other time, but winter is always quiet and subdued. Always smells transitional, something dangerously close to hope and redemption.

And eight months is a long time to miss the feel of someone’s lips, isn’t it, so you think you can be excused for reaching for something you thought you’d never have again.

The first kiss is hesitant, testing; pressed to the spot just beneath his ear. Maybe you don’t know this Jeongguk, but you know the version of him you used to love—the one you still do—and you know the way he’ll sigh. You know the way his hands will grip tighter. You can still hear it, the way you used to kiss him there and he’d say, don’t start something you can’t finish, baby, and the way you’d laugh and always, always finish it. Can still feel the warmth that used to bloom in your chest. The love.

Jeongguk won’t say that now, you know. Wonder if it’d sound more like don’t start something you already finished if he did. He huffs a small laugh, more an exhale than anything, and asks, “What are you doing?”

And you answer, “I don’t know,” because it’s honest. You admit, “I guess I just miss you,” because it’s true.

A war wages within Jeongguk. You can see the storms, the white flags that are close to being thrown out. Can see the way his gaze flits between your lips and your eyes. What he’s looking for, you don’t know, but the storm rages on. And just like real life, just when you think it’s at its worst, there’s a break in the clouds: a tangible beam of silvery-warm light when Jeongguk tangles his hands in your hair, thumbs at the hinge of your jaw. Jeongguk tilts your head back and looks ethereal in the amber glow of the streetlights.

He says, “We shouldn’t,” and you nod, because you know and the anguish on his face is surely mirrored on yours, but when he follows it with, “let me take you home, let me take care of you,” you find it impossible to care.

You nod.

Everything is amber.

Eight months is a long time to go without the way Jeongguk kisses you: intentionally, demandingly, insatiably. He still tastes the same. Tastes like the first time you’d ever dared to kiss him, back at that party freshman year, tongue flavored with cheap liquor. Jeongguk tastes forbidden and feels like coming home.

You couldn’t say how you make it to Jeongguk’s apartment, but the way you stumble over the threshold feels familiar. The way the door is barely locked when Jeongguk crowds your space; picks you up, wraps your legs around his waist, presses you against it, hips moving on their own accord, rutting, all those little sounds spilling from his lips—everything is familiar. This is not just a practiced song and dance but something memorized. Something instinctual. You could be apart from Jeongguk for years instead of months and your body would still know what to do.

He carries you to his bedroom and you don’t think about who else has been between his sheets, because he puts you down so gently. Kisses your lips, your jaw, your neck—all gentle, powder-soft. Sounds like spring when you paw at the velvety cashmere of his sweater, pull it over his head, and he sighs. Feels like he’s breathing fresh life into something he shouldn’t, something long dead, but then you skim along his warm skin and your world is reduced to the way it feels like silk beneath your fingertips.

“I still love you,” Jeongguk whispers against your mouth, his inked fingers toying with the button on your jeans. Pops it open, pulls the denim down your thighs. Doesn’t bother pulling them off, only goes as far as your knees. And it’s uncomfortable, the way it’s bunched there, but the way Jeongguk says, “Fuck, missed you so much,” is so sweet.

Everything happens too fast.

Jeongguk leaves your shirt on. Drags it up and over your breasts and kisses at the newly-exposed skin. Sinks his teeth in, lets it hurt for a second before he laves over the marks. Settles between your legs and coaxes an orgasm out of you with his mouth and his fingers. Speaks his praise into the juncture of your thigh, breathless as he touches himself, strokes his cock with the wetness lingering on his fingers. Looks so, so pretty when he sits back on his haunches and says, “Just wanna look at you,” and makes it sound wistful and longing.

Makes it sound like it means something.

He’s still touching himself, still slicking himself up. There’s a split second where he goes to move and thinks better of it. Looks to the side before looking back at you. The storm kicks up again. “Have—” he begins before he swallows thickly. Dares to look hopeful, even through the squall. “Have you been with anyone else? Since…?”

You haven’t. Tried to, once—another stupid party, more cheap liquor passed to your mouth from someone else’s, but it hadn’t gone anywhere. They hadn’t tasted like Jeongguk; hadn’t felt the same. Two puzzle pieces that fit together all wrong.

Jeongguk has, though. Something you’d heard from a friend of a friend that you weren’t meant to. They’d called it a rebound, and it had bloomed so many ugly thoughts in your head. Five months had passed. Jeongguk was fucking someone else in his bed while you were in yours, torturing yourself over whether or not to tell him happy birthday. Whether it was allowed to or not, it’d stung.

(You had. You’d reworded the text a million times, plucked up all the courage you could find before you sent it. It’d gone unanswered, just like you expected it would, and you thought it was because Jeongguk didn’t want to talk to you. Thought you were digging your fingers into wounds that had yet to heal, so it’d stung but you understood.

But Jeongguk hadn’t answered because he was fucking someone else. Had someone else’s taste on his tongue; was panting someone else’s name into the dark. The embarrassment had been the worst part.)

Still does, if you’re being honest with yourself, so you lie. “I—yeah,” you answer. “Just one.”

Looks like it stings Jeongguk, too. “Right,” he responds, blinking back tears, and he’s got a lot of nerve, you think. “Yeah, okay, I’ll just—a condom. Are you…”

“Jeongguk—”

“Are you sure? Maybe this isn’t…” He huffs. Drops the condom on the bed, hangs his head. “What are we doing?”

You stare up at the ceiling. Nothing up there but the swirls in the plaster. “I don’t know,” you admit. “Hurting each other, probably.”

Jeongguk walks his fingers down your thigh. Grips at your skin, wants it to bruise. Wants you to have something to remember him by come morning. “Sometimes I’m really mad at you, you know?”

“Yeah, trust me, I know.”

He nods. Refuses to look you in the eye now that you’re watching him. “I still love you so fucking much and I’m still so angry. What am I supposed to do with that? What am I… fuck, I thought I was over it. I thought I’d see you and not feel a fucking thing.” There’s fresh ink on the back of his left hand. You hadn’t noticed it earlier, but you notice it now, when he runs his hands down his face.

You also notice the way the atmosphere shifts, the split second in which his heartache bleeds into something else—resolve, maybe. Obstinacy. Like he knows how this is going to end and he’s going to do it anyway. He’s going to find the most painful part and press on it, dig his fingers in, and it’s just an inevitable, foregone thing. Something he can prevent and something he’s choosing not to.

“You fucked someone else,” he sneers. Rips the foil open with his teeth, flashing too white in the dark of his bedroom. Rolls the condom on like it’s an inconvenience. Like you’re an inconvenience. “Was it good? Was it worth it?”

You roll your eyes. Feel the way your breath catches in your throat, because you’re not going to cry. Jeongguk fucked someone else and is vilifying you and it’s hypocritical and ugly and unfair, but you’re not going to cry over it. You’re going to press the gas pedal as far as it can go, say, “Yeah, it was,” and find some wicked delight in the way his eyes squeeze shut, as if it can spare him from the pain.

The two of you used to love each other. Jeongguk used to smile down at you when you were naked beneath him like this. Used to lean in close and whisper that he loved you just as he pushed inside even though you knew, you could feel it in everything he did. Now, there’s no smile. Now, he leans down and spits on your pussy and pushes inside and doesn’t tell you a goddamn thing.

Not with words, anyway.

Because the way he fucks you says it all. Impersonal, desperate, bitter. He grips your hips and fucks into you frenzied and fast. Takes your hand and puts it on your clit and tells you to get yourself off. An inconvenience. Tells you he misses your tight cunt, tells you he misses the way it milks his cock, tells you he misses watching the way you come undone underneath him, but he doesn’t tell you he misses you.

There’s a moment, just after he spills into the condom and stays inside, just catching his breath, when you think he might say it. Might tell you he loves you around the lump in his throat, might apologize, might ask if you two can’t figure it out.

There’s only a moment.

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything. Lets the moment pass. Pulls out and ties off the condom and wordlessly gets up to throw it away. It’s the silence that pisses you off. The disregard. Jeongguk hates you for something you’d lied about doing that he’d done for real, so you can be wordless, too. You can treat him like an inconvenient, cheap fuck, too. You can get up and find your clothes and pull them on and let him watch, words biting at the back of his teeth, and you can tell yourself to feel nothing.

You can say, “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve,” and not shy away from the resentment in your voice, because it’s properly placed. “You fucked someone else, too, so you’ve got a lot of fucking nerve, Jeongguk.”

Eight months is a long time to miss someone, to play at daydreams. To think of all the things you want to say, the things you’ll do. In not one of them did you think about this: you, fully dressed and stinking of sex, saying, “It’s late. I’ll show myself out.”

Jeongguk, tears glistening on his cheeks, saying, “No, let me—baby, I’m sorry, please—I’ll drive you.”

A shake of your head. Jeongguk doesn’t push it.

Roll credits.

[ the second. ] Jimin wants to talk your ear off about it—the girl you’re seeing.

It’s new and there isn’t much to say. You tell him the two of you met at one of the student showcases put on by the art department and leave off the part about all of Jeongguk’s old friends being there, that he would’ve participated, too, if he hadn’t dropped out after you broke his heart. Leave off the part where you would’ve been there to support him instead, in another life. Leave off the part where it’d just been morbid curiosity: you, not an art student, wandering those halls to see if Jeongguk’s photographs were still framed on the wall.

“Is she nice?” Jimin asks, head nearly knocking into yours as someone shoves by him. “Fucking asshole.”

You nod. “Why would I date someone that wasn’t nice?”

Jimin, perpetually unbothered until he decidedly isn’t, sends you a look that he hides behind the rim of his cup. “Because you’re in your self-destruction era and aren’t thinking clearly.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“Exactly what I said. You know I’m happy if you’re happy, but…” He pauses as he trails off. Tries to wrap his words in something delicate. “It’s pretty clear you still aren’t over it. That’s all.”

You snort. “That’s all?” you repeat, like it’s some small thing. Like it’s normal and fine.

“I’m sure it’s easier to pretend when the two of you are thousands of miles apart,” Jimin amends, and he must see how you bristle, stung by the callout, because his eyes soften. “Tell me about her.”

She’s beautiful and kind and smart. Smokes clove cigarettes and the smell is always clinging to her skin. You know how to make her come but don’t know what she’s majoring in—fashion, you think, because she’s always holding fabric swatches against your skin. Tells you what suits you and what doesn’t. Tells you which textures don’t work, what’s too warm, and she doesn’t need to tell you what’s too cold because you already know it’s you.

She’s beautiful and kind and smart and has no idea you’re still in love with someone else.

But you can’t tell Jimin that, can you? Can’t tell him about how she’d dragged you to a private corner in the gallery and kissed you breathless; the way she made you come on her fingers; the way Jeongguk’s name nearly slipped out of your mouth as you shook. Can’t tell him that she’s got arms full of art. Delicate patchwork; nothing like the harsh, bold colors inked into Jeongguk’s skin, but it feels the same to trace the lines.

You can’t tell him much of anything, so what you settle on is, “She’s nice—good for me,” and it doesn’t sound convincing to either of you.

Jimin doesn’t call you on it, though. Not again. Instead, he keeps his gaze steady, staring into the fire, the flames dancing wildly when you meet his eye. “You need to be careful,” he says. “You’re going to hurt her, too. Maybe worse than you hurt him.”

“Jimin—”

“Just be careful,” he reiterates, and all you can do is nod. What else is there to do besides wait for the inevitable crash and burn?

And it’s a little unfair, you think, that Taehyung grows older every single year. A little unfair that guilt won’t let you decline the invitations. A little unfair that you can still pick Jeongguk’s laughter out of a crowd. A little unfair that these hometown friends-turned-acquaintances still throw sideways glances whenever someone else touches him, as if he still has someone to answer to; as if they’re expecting something.

An hour. You’ve survived an hour longer than you did last year, and it’s not much but you’re still proud of yourself. You’ve had a drink, talked to someone other than Jimin. Managed to ignore the way Jeongguk is ignoring you; the way he immediately leaves a room as soon as you enter.  Maybe it’s better like this, you reckon. Maybe it’s what you need.

An hour is long enough. Jimin doesn’t comment on the way your bones crack when you stand to leave. No one needs a reminder of growing older. He doesn’t ask if you’ll be okay, either; if you need a ride home. Instead, he stays quiet as he studies you, clearly wondering if lightning strikes twice. If you’re going to be able to walk past Jeongguk and out the door without making another mistake.

You can at least make it across Taehyung’s sprawling yard and to the house. You can dodge the sweat-slick bodies and the girls sitting in laps. You can toss your empty cup in an overflowing trash can. You can pretend the eyes on your back are well-intentioned.

You can make it to the bathroom.

Annoying, the way your phone has been vibrating all night only to disappoint you. Irrational. You scroll past the emoji-laden messages, the coy flirting, because they’re from the person you’re actually dating—the person you told you were going to sleep early—and not from Jeongguk. You should feel guilty. You should feel guilty, but the face staring back at you in the mirror doesn’t look guilty at all.

She looks tired. A little beat-down, but that’s life.

Maybe that’s just what happens when you’ve spent the last two years of your life chasing after ghosts.

A knock at the door startles you. Sends your phone tumbling to the floor, screen probably cracked to hell, and you swear under your breath. “Just a minute!” you call out, a little stunned from how threadbare you feel all of a sudden.

Still, the knocking continues, and you’re on your knees on this bathroom floor and all you want to do is cry. You don’t want to be on this floor in this house. You don’t want to keep putting in the effort of maintaining the facades of all these friendships. You don’t want to keep coming back to this town, don’t want to keep being confronted with the harsh reality of all your mistakes.

“Just a fucking min—”

The words die on your tongue, because there Jeongguk stands, all the air in your lungs dissipating at the amount of space he takes up. Even worse when he steps inside and locks the door behind him. You feel like you’re going to drown. You feel like you’re going to scream or cry or both, and you’re still on the floor, still on your knees, and it feels too much like penance when you look up at him. Feels like you’re groveling, praying for forgiveness.

You stand quickly, ignoring the rush of blood to your head, the way your legs tingle. Jeongguk still hasn’t said a word, doesn’t seem like that’s going to change, either, and it’s really all you can do to stay on your feet when everything in you is screaming to collapse.

Eventually, he says, “You’re seeing someone,” and it isn’t a question, not really, but it borders on one. It’s a question and a confirmation and somehow sounds a lot like he’s asking for permission for something.

“I—yeah.” You swallow. “It’s new.”

He hums. Steps a little closer. Leans against the sink. Darts out his tongue to swipe at his bottom lip before he tugs his lip ring between his teeth. “Yeah? Does he treat you well?”

“She,” you correct, and there’s a flash of something in his eyes. Surprise, maybe. Jeongguk, at one point, had known everything about you, but not this. “And yeah,” you add on, barely a whisper, “she does.”

Part of you feels embarrassed. Jeongguk had known everything about you but not this, and you shouldn’t feel embarrassed or guilty but it still sits there in the middle of your chest. Feels like you’ve been keeping secrets. Feels like shame, even though you aren’t ashamed. Feels like you’re awaiting judgment. But the surprise in Jeongguk’s eyes disappears and something else settles in its place—uncertainty, if you had to guess.

“Are you happy with her?”

You shrug. “Like I said, it’s new.”

And Jeongguk is as emulous as ever, because he asks, “Does it feel like what we had?” and you already know the answer is no.

“I’m not sure anything will.”

It’s honest; you hadn’t said it to appease him, but he looks pleased anyway. You’re starting to understand why so many people write about their first love. Why it’s such a powerful role to fill. Because you and Jeongguk are standing in a bathroom behind a locked door, feet apart from one another, and you think, I don’t think there’s anyone I will ever love more than him even though it’s been two years. You think, I don’t think I’ll ever recover from this.

You think, I would try over and over and over again if he asked me to.

Later on, when you’re alone in your childhood bed and your face is streaked with tears, only your shame and guilt for company, you won’t be able to figure out who moved first, but one of you had.

Once upon a time, you had known everything about Jeongguk, too. You could recite his taste from memory, but it’s different this time. He licks into your mouth and it tastes like ash—nothing like the clove cigarettes your girlfriend smokes, but close enough that the parallel burns like acid in your throat. It’s close enough that you can keep your eyes shut and pretend again.

This time there’s no softness to be found. There’s just Jeongguk’s mouth pressed to yours, barely letting you breathe, not wanting anyone to hear. There’s just the sink digging into your back. Jeongguk’s hands gripping at your waist, pulling at the hem of your skirt. There’s the frustration and desperation of two people who love each other but will never, ever get it right.

There’s Jeongguk asking, as he spits into his hand and slicks you up, if you’re going to tell her.

There’s you, already too far gone, saying you don’t know.

There’s Jeongguk asking, as you’re clenching around him and dragging him with you to the edge, if you’d come back to him if he asked you to.

There’s you, already knowing the answer to this, too, saying you would.

But this isn’t that and Jeongguk doesn’t ask. When it’s over, he tosses the condom and does a half-assed job of helping you clean up and he doesn’t ask. He splashes water on his face and fixes his hair and he doesn’t ask. He tucks his cock back into his briefs and zips his jeans and he doesn’t ask.

Jeongguk has one hand on the doorknob and he doesn’t ask you to come back. Instead, he asks, “How long are you gonna keep doing this?”

For once, you don’t have an answer.

[ the third. ] You go even farther away for grad school.

You try to put more distance between you and Jeongguk, more distance between you and all the skeletons in your closet, but you just pack them up in different boxes and bring them with you.

You spend New Year’s Eve chain-smoking in your parents’ back yard—that same brand of clove cigarettes, because hearts are easy to break but some habits are not. Sometimes it’s a comfort to hurt yourself in the same way you hurt others, so you chain-smoke and you don’t go to to Taehyung’s birthday party because you weren’t invited and it doesn’t sting in the same way that it doesn’t sting that Jimin doesn’t call you once you’re home because he hasn’t spoken to you in a year.

The clock ticks down to midnight. Someone sets off fireworks. Absolutely nothing changes.

There are no half-baked resolutions. There’s no hope that this is going to be the year you get your shit together. There’s just you and the bed you’ve made for yourself; the autopilot you can’t—won’t—turn off, because you don’t know where you’re going anyway so you might as well just go wherever it’s taking you. There’s guilt and there’s shame and there’s baggage, but they’re all old friends. Those are old scars.

The sweatshirt you’re wearing doesn’t belong to you, and it does little to protect you from the bitter cold that bites at your skin. Jeongguk doesn’t belong to you, either, but he keeps coming back to you like he does.

“Mind if I sit down?”

You shrug, gesturing to the empty chair beside you. The small fire you’d built is down to its last embers, and it’s what you focus on, because you can’t focus on Jeongguk anymore.

“You weren’t at Tae’s.”

“Wasn’t invited.”

“Oh,” he breathes. “Sorry, I didn’t know. I would’ve—”

“It’s fine. I wouldn’t have gone anyway.”

He seems to hear what you don’t say. I wouldn’t have gone because I can’t be around you anymore. I wouldn’t have gone because I don’t trust myself with you. I wouldn’t have gone because I’ve burned down every good thing in my life trying to keep you. “Oh. Yeah, that—that makes sense.”

He’d texted you. Asked if he could see you. Just wanted to talk, and you’ve never cared much for symbolism, but nearing midnight on New Year’s Eve had seemed as good a time as any to let it go, so you’d said yes. Now, when there isn’t much to say, all of Jeongguk’s flimsy excuses are laid bare. Transparent.

“Was Jimin there?”

Jeongguk nods. “You didn’t know?”

You shake your head. Feels like it’s made of concrete. “No. We haven’t talked since last winter break.”

“Because of—”

How cruel, that you’d confessed to Jimin instead of the one person who deserved to know. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

You shrug again. “It’s okay. I don’t think it’s permanent, just until I can get my shit together, I guess. Wasn’t fair to drag him into my mess anyway.”

“It’s not that easy,” Jeongguk says, and it sounds like something he wants to be true. It sounds like something he’s said countless times in defense of himself. “We’d—I’d do it if I could.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “of course.”

Silence creeps up again, so you dig another cigarette out of the pack and offer one to Jeongguk that he waves away. “Cloves? That’s a weird choice.”

“Just something I picked up along the way.”

He hears you again: They’re what she used to smoke. It helps me heal to hurt myself with something that reminds me of her. Sometimes I chain-smoke clove cigarettes and I don’t wash the smell from my hands, my clothes, my hair, because it makes me feel less alone.

So he asks, “Was it real?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you answer, flicking the wheel of your lighter, words spoken around the cigarette stuck between your lips. “It never had a chance. Not a real one, anyway.”

“Do your parents know?”

“Know what? That I went away to college and started fucking women?” Jeongguk shrugs. Has the audacity to look embarrassed. “What are you trying to ask me? You wanna know if I keep coming back to you because I’m scared to come out to my parents?”

“No. I don’t know. I just—”

The laugh that escapes you is scorched and bitter. Sounds the way the tobacco tastes. “No, Jeongguk. I keep coming back to you because I keep hoping you’ll ask me to.” I keep hoping you still want me.

“I almost did,” he admits, and you can hear how he swallows around the lump in his throat. “The first time.”

“When you were a dick about me sleeping with someone else? Yeah, okay. You didn’t want me back, you just didn’t want me to be with anyone else.”

He huffs. “How the fuck do you know what I want? You’ve never bothered to ask.”

“Because it doesn’t matter,” comes your response, stilted and practiced. “It doesn’t matter what we want, because we’re just going to keep hurting one another trying to get it right.” You suck in a breath, wipe furiously at the tears on your cheeks. “And we’re never going to.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Then ask.” Jeongguk startles, looks at you with wide eyes. “Ask me to come back for real, Jeongguk, and I will.”

A beat of silence.

Two, three, four.

Someone sets off another round of fireworks. A dog barks. It’s so cold that you can see Jeongguk’s breath each time he exhales, each time he breathes out instead of speaking. All the words he isn’t saying. And it’s exactly how you knew it would go, but it does nothing to tamp down the devastation in your chest.

You’d confessed your transgressions to Jimin and thought your silence to your ex-girlfriend was a gift, that it was sparing her the pain of what you’d done. Now you understand that someone’s silence can be the most vicious thing of all.

[ the last. ] Graduation looms. It’s the last winter break you’re spending at home.

Your therapist suspects you get your compartmentalism from your parents.

They don’t mention it. They see the stack of boxes and your bare bedroom walls and they don’t say a word about any of it. They watch you pack everything in your car and don’t offer to help. They process their grief silently, and when you can’t stand it anymore, you say, “I dated a woman my senior year of undergrad, you know.”

They don’t say anything to that, either, but it feels good to tell them. Feels a little like freedom and reclamation, like you can be who you are in front of others.

When you leave for good, you don’t want to repackage all those same skeletons.

So you meet Jimin for lunch and you take it in stride that everything is weird, that there’s nearly two years of silence to fill. You don’t ask for forgiveness and he doesn’t demand it of you, just asks if you’re doing better. “I’m doing the best I can,” you answer, and it’s human and honest enough that he accepts it with a warm smile.

Jeongguk is more difficult.

There’s no way to neatly box up that kind of baggage.

You’d intended to stop by his apartment to talk, tell him you aren’t coming back anymore. There’s nothing left here for you, you’d told him, and there was a flash of something. A there’s me, isn’t there? that had gone unsaid, destined for the same fate as a million other unspoken words between you.

Because there is him, but there’s also the way you’re desperately trying to claw back into something resembling normalcy. You’d lost yourself when you also lost Jeongguk, and you need to figure out who you are without him. You need to know who you are once you stop running and let your demons catch up with you. You need to hear what they have to say.

Maybe Jeongguk had said it best last year—“It’s not that easy. I’d do it if I could.”—because you’re nothing if not predictable and self-destructive.

You’re nothing if not naked and on your back beneath him, your fingers threaded through his hair as he rocks his hips into you, more tender than you deserve. His lips are ghosting along your skin and every press feels like a brand. Feels like he’s both making a mockery of you and declaring you ruined for anyone who might come after him. Feels like you’ll love him until you die.

(Some version of you must exist outside of Jeongguk’s grasp—outside of his orbit, his bed—but right now, as he twines your fingers together and pins them above your head, you can’t figure out who she might be.)

Eight months had been a long time to think of all the things you wanted to say, and four years is worse. Four years, and you still can’t bring yourself to ask him to try again, but there’s nothing after this, nothing to lose, so your voice is hoarse and raw when you say, “Jeongguk,” and he groans a little, nips at the column of your throat because he loves the way you say his name. “Jeongguk,” you repeat, because he senses the urgency, hears what you aren’t saying.

“Yeah, baby, say it. Whatever it is, tell me.”

He rolls his hips faster. Before, he would’ve tried to prolong the ending, but he’s hurtling towards it now. There’s nothing after this, you know, but you need the confirmation. You need to finally put all of this to rest. “I want to—” His cock strokes someplace that whites out your vision. “Fuck, want to—want you to come with me.”

He laughs, full of himself, probably smirking out the side of his mouth. “Keep squeezing me like that and I will soon.”

“No,” you insist, shocked at the conviction in your voice, “when I leave. Come with me.”

Everything slows. Jeongguk pulls back, moves his hands to cover himself, and there’s nothing but cold confusion in his absence. “What?”

“I didn’t ask you before. Last year. I just—I left it up to you, and you’re right, I didn’t ask what you wanted, but I didn’t tell you what I wanted, either. But I’m telling you now. I’m asking—”

There was never going to be anything after this.

Jeongguk’s silence says it all.

The way he pulls out and rolls you onto your stomach. The way he fucks as fast and as hard as he can. The way he used to love you openly and honestly and now holds whatever’s left close to his chest like it’s something to be ashamed of.

Someone’s silence can always be the most vicious thing of all.

Roll credits.

thank you so much for reading, and an additional thank you in advance if you decide to reblog my work. as always, my inbox is always open for any feedback! ♡

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts angst #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic

[brokenpieces-72]

Reunion

Navigation let me know if you want to be tagged

The following was inspired by @bluegiragi hybrid AU, and includes the reader character Hunter, from @diejager

TW/CW: Trauma, past trauma, abusive parents, discipline, mental distress, breakdowns, yelling… I warned you at the poll

No this wasn’t right, this wasn’t fair, they were supposed to be gone, locked up, put away, gone for good.

Yet there they had been, working with him. Graves was no saint but working with them of all fucking people?!? You felt your stomach twist and churn and you froze in your form as the others tore through the thralls. It wasn’t until one had been brave enough to jump on to your large form that you regain your focus.

Fight. Focus on the fight. Deal with them later. You reach up and behind you and grab the jumper, before over head slamming him into the floor, making him almost splat. You look around, trying to ignore them, and find where you can assist. König was having little issue, Horangi and Alejandro were proving to be an effective pair, with Rudolfo taking shots beside them, Price was making his fire spread everywhere he could while Gaz dive bombed any the Captain might have missed. Ghost was of course sticking to the shadows and intercepting the thralls on their way to provide back up. Soap… no…

They were moving towards Johnny and you panicked. Johnny was tearing through the shadows like he often does but they had caught sight of him. They were going for the closest target. Johnny hadn’t spotted them yet.

Not again, not again, no!

You hear yelling but it’s muffled by your ears ringing as they make their way towards Soap who finally takes notice of them. You’re in the basement for a moment, and there’s two smiles before you. One kind and the other… it has no right to be a smile. Darkness closes in, you have to stop it this time.

No, leave him alone!

Soap faces them, ready for whatever hybrid they might be. He doesn’t get the chance to pounce because you’re there instead, screeching in their face, and forcing them back before they can react. You whack them away with your wooden forearm and shriek at them again in warning. Soap steps back a little, shocked to see you react and in front of him.

“Fuck! Rudy!” Alejandro yells, as he tears thralls off of his partner and your attention from the humanoid monster before you. Thankfully Rudolfo’s cadejos are there to protect him, the dark one ripping through them quickly with Alejandro slicing them to ribbons. Rudolfo was already spent and passed out. Alejandro was standing over him protectively, and hissing and swiping at whatever thralls were nearby. Price growls angrily, and orders you all to fall back.

Soap clamps his jaws on to your arm and tugs, bringing you back to reality again. He’s repeating the orders Price had given. You flee before they can try anything, or take advantage of the chaos. The thralls chase after you, and Alejandro carries Rudy back with Horangi providing cover from behind. Gaz is able to get control of König well enough to steer his Percht form in the right direction.

They wouldn’t hurt your friends. Not again. You wouldn’t let them. No one would hurt your friends again. You wouldn’t let anyone go into the dark again…

Never again…

Fortunate doesn’t begin to describe the luck you had making it back to base. Price is pissed off, Rudolfo is unconscious, the whole team is exhausted or wounded. They nearly had Graves, once he was dead the thralls would have been easy.

On the ride back you keep your head down, no one talking to you. It was your fault. You heard the orders from Price to assist Rudolfo, but you not only ignored them you went against them, to protect Soap who didn’t need to be protection. When you return to base, Rudolfo is taken by Hunter to rest while Price reprimands you in front of everyone. You don’t blame him.

“Care to explain corporal?” He asks, arms folded, smoking drifting out of his mouth as he spoke. You keep your head down, and your arms at your sides. Facing a superior officer is one thing. Facing your captain who put so much faith and trust in you, and endless hours into your training…you can’t.

“You are damn fucking lucky you understand me? Sergeant Parra nearly got killed, and could have been if we hadn’t gotten out of there. When I give you orders you follow them, understood?”

“Yes sir-“

“Then why the fuck was this any different?!”

You still don’t look up, and clench your fists tighter to keep yourself from flinching. You smell the smoke, you hear him talking, but you can’t face him. Price is standing over you now, and you can feel the heat from his smoke just above you. Hell he has half a mind to send you back, and you’re just praying he won’t.

“What do you have to say for yourself corporal?” He asks, arms crossed. You don’t answer. ‘Sorry’ would cut it. There was no excuse. You messed up. Nearly cost a life. Nearly cost your family.

“Nothing sir.” You mutter, and swallow under your breath.

“Speak up!” He yells, making you flinch.

“Nothing Captain.” You say. He’s stunned and disappointed. You won’t even look him in the eye when you say it. He has half a mind to send you back to the program. This time you nearly cost them a life to Graves. The rest of the team is either standing there watching everything play out or has since left to tend to their own injuries.

“Dismissed corporal, return to your quarters. Punishment will be dealt later.” He orders. You don’t look at anyone as you go to your room. It’s a rather brutal sight seeing Captain Price discipline you. Soap and König are uneasy about your behaviour though and share a brief look on their way to see Hunter for debrief and assessment.

You shut the door to your room and sit on the bed, removing the tactical vest, along with the rest of your gear. There’s a growing lump in your throat. Your heart is still pumping, and you claw at the bed sheets, trying not to cry.

They were supposed to be gone and locked up, never able to hurt you again. What if Price sent you back? Could they find you?Did they even recognize you during the fight? You hadn’t felt like this since you lost control. Scared. Scared you would lose your team. Scared they would get you back. Scared your team might be all that was waiting in the basement.

No please…please you just wanted friends…

“Oy! Spirit open up.” There’s a knock at your door and you jump. It’s Johnny, checking up on you. You’ve heard that tone before.

“C’mon, open the door I’m not playin.”

You get up and crack open the door to see Johnny standing there, his own tactical gear off and wearing cargo pants and a tshirt. He looks disappointed with you just as much as Price probably was. When Soap looks at you it stings more.

“May I come in?” He asks with mild sarcasm. You nod and quickly open the door. He walks in, and stands in front of the bed while you stand by the door, as if it were a room inspection. “Close the door, sit down.”

You do as he says. You sit in silence for a moment. Soap looks down at you with his arms folded. “What the hell was that?”

You’re quiet again and he sighs in frustration. The question nearly breaks you. Staying silent keeps you from crying.

“Pup you better start talkin, or this won’t be pretty.” He warns. Your silence remains, but he starts noticing something is more wrong. Your body is locked up and tense, you keep clenching and unclenching your fists and you keep biting your lips. There’s no eye contact from you either.

“Tell me. Now.” He says, firmly but calmly.

“I saw…I saw my mom.” You say. Johnny stares at you for a moment. You’ve told him about your family, and the shitty ways you were treated. The program had put her in jail and protected you. Her getting out meant a lot of different things and raised so many questions. He realizes the woman who had been trying to flee was your mother. The one that was ready to fight him.

“Why did you disobey orders?” He asks.

“I… I wanted to protect you.” You tell him.

“Spirit I was fine. I canna andle myself. You shoulda ave said somethin.” There’s frustration in his voice as he shakes his head.

“I couldn’t…” you say softly, trying to keep the lump in your throat down.

“Why?” He presses.

“I…I…”

“Why didn ya say somethin Spirit? Why didn ya follow orders?” He asks leaning in closer.

“I was scared!” You shout before the tears run down your cheeks. Johnny stands there seeing you cry, and it hurts for him too. He hates seeing you like this. But it’s necessary.

“Why…?” He asks again.

“I thought she would hurt you…she would kill you…” you whimper. “I don’t…I don’t wanna…”

“Don what? What don ya want?” He asks.

“……eat you.” You say just audible enough for him to hear and things start making sense. He doesn’t know what to say to that. Two and two were put together recalling the night you told him about being locked in the basement and given raw food. Johnny knew about your life…but not this.

“Corporal.” He says finally. “You canna disobey orders ya got that. You obey those orders, unless told different ya understand?”

“Yes sir.” You say, nodding.

“Look at me when you’re talking.” Johnny says. You look up at him and see the same face that checked on you during the holidays. You sniff and wipe your tears taking a breath.

“Yes sir.” You repeat, a little louder, and swallowing back the lump in your throat.

“You’re still gonna ave a punishment, but das for the cap’n.” He tells you. You nod.

The sergeant role drops as he takes a breath.

“You need a hug…” he asks.

“Yes sir.” You say.

He sits down next to you and holds you close. You hold on to him, as if he’s about to be pulled away from you.

“That witch is gonna ave to try pretty fuckin hard to get through me…ya know that.” He says letting you cry into him. He squeezes you tighter, asserting his possessive nature over those he considers his pack. “She ain’t fuckin touching you.”

You pull away after sobbing for a bit, tears still on your face.

“I…you said you wouldn’t go into the dark…”

“I won’t… not unless I know you’re in there, and you canno get out… promise.” He says wiping a tear from your cheek. He presses his forehead to yours, and you’re trying to stop crying.

“No one ‘ere is goin in the dark… never… if one of us goes we’ll pull em out… got that?” He says looking into your eyes.

“Got it…” you say. “Do I have to tell Price…?”

“Yeah…you need to… Laswell needs to get that program checked out. I’ll go with you…take a breather and drink some water first.”

You get your water flask and chug a bit, taking deep breaths.

“Ay. Canna tell you somethin?” He asks. You nod. “You took Price like a pro. Seen plenny of other soldiers crumple in fron of him… you didn cry and whine. Das not a bad thing.”

He takes you to see Price, and you explain everything, apologizing for your actions as well. Price has a grim look on his face, and dismisses you and Johnny. He has to do some digging but for now everyone needed rest, especially Sergeant Parra. You go check on him before heading to bed and Hunter tells you he’ll be okay.

Price was right though. You let your emotions and fears control you, take over. If it had happened again, you could have gotten Rudolfo killed. What if Hunter had been there instead? They don’t have any hybrid abilities to protect them. What if it had been someone else? You’r frustrated with yourself despite Johnny reminding you that mistakes have costs, and it’s part of the job.

When he wakes up you apologize profusely. He admits he was worried about you when you didn’t follow orders. You assure him you’re better now. You tell him what exactly happened, and he listens to you, staying quiet.

“No one can blame you for getting distracted Mija. You were protecting your hermano de armas.”

“I should’ve been protecting you.” You say.

“I know. But instincts can take over. Alejandro is the same way.” Rudolfo assures you. You nod and he ruffles your hair.

“Hey it took forever to get it in a ponytail!” You whine swatting at his hands.

“Your hair is already a mess. You need a cut anyways.” Rudolfo points out.

“Yes sir.” You nod.

As a sort of personal punishment, you offer any help you can to Rudolfo during his recovery. Honestly it’s the least you can do. Price’s punishment is mainly getting you to stay up late and clean anything that needs it for the next month or so. A couple times he’s lenient, offering to let you go to bed, or move on to your next chore with only a couple small tasks left. You refuse each time, taking your punishment seriously.

At the end of each day, you go to bed with sore arms, fingers and sometimes your back. You know it’s for the best in the end. You’re supporting your team. You’re keeping them safe, and becoming stronger. You’re becoming a soldier.

@yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @H0n3y_L3m0n @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129

#john soap mactavish #cod au #task force 141 x reader #jackalope #hybrid au #cod oc #simon ghost riley #captain john price #female reader #captain price #rudolfo parra #alejandro vargas #kyle gaz garrick #horangi #König #hybrid reader #here’s trauma

[misshoneyimhome]

You’re newest oneshot left me dead in a good way it was so hot and him being a cheeky shit saying that they probably heard her being loud. If requests are open, can I submit a request about trying anal for the first time and celebrating his new contract a new series of firsts for both.

Well, as long as it's in a good way bb! 😉

Sooo, this was definitely a first time for me to write about 😉 So I do hope I managed to get it out in a good way 🤍 However, I wasn't sure if you meant it was the first time for them both; so I just went with it 🌺

I did though get carried away a bit, so I apologise in advance for any mistakes or weird phrases 🙈 Additionally I also used this request ~ and tried to stick to the storyline, however, I'm sorry if I repeat myself too much - please do let me know 🙃

Anyway, If you like it, I’ll see you all in church *hell* 💦

Please enjoy 🤍

Warnings; where to begin... 18+ smut; oral sex (f receiving); unprotected sex (p in v); cum inside; cum licking/sucking?; fingering; anal toy, anal fingering; protected anal sex; did I forget anything?

[the 🌶️ is for more explicit content]

Word count; 5.5K

[Inexperienced!reader x Willy]

**

All good boys go to heaven - But bad boys bring heaven to you pt V I William Nylander 🖋️⚡️🌶️

Describing your relationship with William Nylander as having a substantial amount of sex would be an understatement.

Not only did he introduce you to various ways of experiencing pleasure and engaging in sexual intimacy, where both giving and receiving pleasure created an exhilarating connection, but he also proved to be an exceptional lover, partner, and boyfriend.

William expressed abundant love and affection, making you feel incredibly comfortable in your own skin as the two of you explored each other's bodies. His presence instilled confidence in you, and you reciprocated the exploration, discovering your deepest desires.

In the process, you found yourself engaging in activities you never thought you would, and despite feeling a bit dirty, each new experience left you with a sense of empowerment. It was akin to reading a romantic novel, where the once innocent larva transforms into a beautiful butterfly.

However, your romantic narrative wasn't solely about innocence; it was laced with hot passion and intense, raw sex. Similar to the hidden, steamy books many women keep in their bedside tables, your reality with William involved fulfilling those fantasies and more.

In your world, William brought those fantasies to life, and reciprocally, you did the same for him. Just the day before, you showed him just how good you could be for him. How good your mouth could work his length as he spilled himself into your warmth. And you’d drink all of him as you made him reach his climax again and again.

You’d celebrated William's new contract both with his family and then in private. And as the night had unfolded and left both of you content after moments of mind blown sex, William, once again returned to the loving boyfriend and broached a significant topic.

The prospect of moving in together.

For William, this step felt natural, almost expected, given the amount of time you spent at his place. To him, it seemed more practical for you both to share a home rather than maintaining separate spaces, especially since you were rarely at your own anymore.

However, for you, it carried more weight. William was your second serious relationship, following and including your high school sweetheart. And despite the growth and independence you had achieved since then, moving in together felt like such a mature, adult decision.

You had established your independence, secured a good job and your own place. You enjoyed the feeling of being a strong and independent woman, breaking free from the chains your ex had once held around you. Yet, your relationship with William had made things take a turn.

His demanding career, coupled with the unique lifestyle of being associated with the Toronto Maple Leafs, shifted your daily routine. Now, your friends were mainly the wives and girlfriends of the Leafs players, and hockey dominated your life with game nights, travel plans, and brunch dates.

Your world had turned upside down. Even maintaining a regular work schedule became challenging amidst late nights and quick trips to away games. Which also led to you finding yourself spending a substantial amount of time at William's place, making it more convenient to be together.

And tonight was no exception, as the Leafs faced off against the Sharks at the Scotiabank Arena. Proudly donning the #88 jersey among the other partners of the players, you cheered on the Leafs, celebrating their dominating 7-1 victory.

After the players completed their media obligations and changed back into their post-game outfits, William quickly sought you out, pulling you into his arms for a deep kiss.

"Min älskling," he whispered sweetly, expressing his affection.

It was one of those tender moments that showcased your love for each other, much like the other couples in the room. However, as romantic as it was, you were aware of how quickly the atmosphere could shift when you were alone.

William's eyes, filled with the excitement of the great win, locked onto yours. Feeling the tension building between your legs from his firm touches with his arms around your waist, you knew it was time to cut the conversation short.

And soon, you found yourselves on the way back to William's condo.

His arms remained around you as you rode the lift to his floor. As you entered the condo, his mouth found yours without hesitation, and William effortlessly picked you up, carrying you to the open kitchen – a place where you’d often shared heated, intimate moments before turning in for the night.

Seated on the dining table, you let his tongue explore your mouth, his hands roaming every inch of your soft skin as he slowly began to undress you. Simultaneously, you didn't let him remain fully clothed either.

Clothing items were discarded and tossed aside on the floor as you passionately kissed, stealing breaths from each other as you were deeply devoted.

“Willy,” you managed to moan between the eager kisses. “Fuck me…”

And he fully intended to do so.

But first, he'd indulge in his late-night snack. Bending down between your bare legs, his mouth came close to your needy heat. His lips planted hungry kisses on your inner thighs, teasing you and devilishly slowly building up pleasure.

And as your impatience got the better of you, your hand found his long blonde locks, gently tugging them to pull him a little closer.

A smirk formed on William’s lips as he sensed your growing desperation, but he didn't keep you waiting. Licking up your folds, he tasted your sweet honey, and the soft moans escaping your mouth only encouraged him further. Using his skilled mouth, he explored your core, licking and sucking your sweet, sensitive flesh. And as he heard your moans gradually growing louder, felt your heels digging into the back of his shoulders, he knew he could easily bring you to your first climax.

Then adding two of his large fingers to the equation, he eased them into your warmth while his mouth devoted itself to your clit. And only with several pumps of his curled digits, your moans called out William's name in between heavy breaths and deep, husky tones.

“Oh yes! Willy, I’m coming.”

And William had no doubt as your juices sprayed and coated his fingers, as well as moisturising his moustache.

“Mmm, tastes so good, baby,” he murmured into your cunt, as his fingers pumped slowly, guiding you down from the high, before carefully retreating them and licking them clean. His eyes gazed up at you, while yours met his in an intense moment.

“Please, I need you in me,” you found yourself pleading, and William couldn't contain his amusement as he rose from his position. With eyes still locked, he removed the last piece of clothing, freeing his hard cock from his boxers.

Your sweet whimper enchanted him, and with no more foreplay needed, William pulled you to the very edge of the table. He lined the tip of his member with your pulsating entrance and eased himself in.

Deep moans harmonised as he filled your depth, your walls hugging him tightly. Your hands wrapped around his neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss, letting your lips get moist from your own essence, and your tongue sensually licking his lips as you tasted yourself.

William held a firm grip on your thighs as he began rocking his hips, his length stimulating your walls with every motion. And your foreheads came to rest against each other, sharing breaths as his thrusts grew harder and deeper, eliciting small cries from you.

“Yes… Fuck, Willy… feels so good,” you whimpered as his cock touched your very back and hit a highly sensitive spot.

“Yeah, baby… your pussy is like made for me…” he moaned in return, the clenching of your muscles bringing him closer to climax.

It was passionate and lustful. Every pound became more eager, and as William felt your nails digging into the back of his neck, he knew you were about to reach your second orgasm. 

He knew your body so well. Knowing exactly how to hit at what speed, and what angle to make you moan so sweetly. And he loved every bit of it. He loved it so much, it could bring himself to climax, sooner rather than later. 

Then increasing his speed, letting his skin slam against yours, both your moans grew louder. Sweat formed on your skin, letting the intense heat fill the condo's air as sounds of sex echoed.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come….” You cried as his thrusts became overwhelming, your walls clenching, and your mind growing hazy.

“Yes, baby, I’m gonna come with you.”

And with deep grunts, both of you arched back and let the orgasms course through your bodies. Ecstasy filled your minds as visions became blurry, and William spilled his seed into the depth of your warmth.

As always, it was skilled, perhaps a bit quick, yet also intense for both of you.

Almost frozen in your position, William gently withdrew his member, watching as his cum slowly dripped from your tight space. And he couldn't help himself.

It was so hot. Seeing how he claimed you as his with his liquids, he then used two fingers to trace up your folds, collecting some of the sticky mixed fluids. And with a dark glare, he locked eyes with you, a smirk forming on his lips as he brought his fingers to your mouth.

“Open,” he commanded in his rough voice. And you did as told.

Letting your lips slowly part, slightly sticking out your tongue, you allowed him to put his coated digits into your mouth. You tasted the sweet and salty mix, circling your tongue around his fingers as you sucked him completely clean. Maintaining a sensual look in your eyes, you watched as William let out a small gasp. 

This was hotter than he thought it would be.

He had to gulp as he slowly pulled out his fingers, and you made sure to let your lips feel every inch of them. “Fucking good girl…” was all he managed to whisper roughly.

And slowly, the two of you came out of the euphoric state, and with satisfied smiles across your lips, you retreated to the bathroom to clean up before tucking in under the covers.

Amidst soft lights in the bedroom, you couldn’t help but lie in comfortable silence, gazing at each other as you admired one another.

As you delicately traced his handsome facial features with your fingers, gently stroking them across his gorgeous pink lips, William then broke the silence.

“You’re so fucking hot… you know that, right?”

His voice was low and husky, his eyes darting from side to side as he studied every little detail of your face.

“You’re not too shabby yourself,” you chuckled lightly, but William wasn’t joking around.

His smile was wide, and his eyes sparkled in the dimmed lights, as he couldn’t help but adore you.

“What’s on your mind baby?”

You withdrew your hand and let your head rest on your arm as you offered William a soft smile.

“Nothing, I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

“…many things - like about why you like me so much,” you let out a soft sigh, a smile still on your face as you gently bit down on your lower lip, your eyes darting down into the sheets before looking back up at him. “And if you’re actually serious about me…”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he inquired with a concerned expression.

“I don’t know… I guess I just… can’t help but wonder… if you really feel completely satisfied with me?”

It was a question you’d been pondering for a little while now. Despite William often providing solid evidence of how he felt towards you, you still had a small amount of doubt - perhaps a fear that he was only interested in you for a short while before he got bored. That he was feeling lonely, and you’d been there for some time now and he’d just want someone around all the time. 

But that was nowhere near the truth. William was sure of his feelings for you. Given that he wasn’t a type to overthink anything, he honestly just went with his gut feeling.

“What do you mean? Of course, I feel satisfied,” William let out a soft chuckle. What had you thinking like that, he thought.

“Well, I was just wondering… that maybe, there were still some things… you know, you’d want to do… sexually – that maybe, you didn’t feel like you could do with me?” Your voice unwillingly trembled a tad as you spoke the words. Though you knew he was your boyfriend and there was nothing to fear, you felt slightly nervous. 

“Like what?”

“You know… like tonight, when you stuck your fingers in my mouth – I mean it was hot, definitely… but it just had me thinking that maybe there were still more things we haven’t tried – you know, fantasies you might want to explore?”

Though your questioning was primarily aimed at understanding William's needs, it equally reflected your own curiosity. You had sensed that William often hinted at his desires but not really speaking openly about them, almost as if he was holding back.

“Hmm...” he started softly, his eyes looking down as he pressed his lips together, pondering whether to share his thoughts or not.

“Willy, you can tell me…” you spoke softly as his eyes met yours again.

But he simply shook his head. “No, baby… I’m completely satisfied as it is.”

However, he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Come on, I can practically hear the wheels turning in your head…”

And William knew you wouldn’t let it go until he let you in on what he’d been fantasising about for a while now.

“Well, there is something…” he spoke with a sly grin smeared across his lips, a little excited to see your reaction to his proposal. “We’ve touched on it a little, but I really want to…” His deep voice faded, his fingers tracing down your body, gently feeling your skin as his palm caressed your buttocks before he let his fingers slip between your cheeks and gently nudged your tight entrance furthest behind. “… feel myself inside you… here.”

A small gasp escaped your lips as you heard his idea. Yet, for some unknown reason, you were rather intrigued. Licking your lips, you studied his face as you enjoyed his finger gently poking your tight hole.

“Oh…” you breathed out lightly. “Well… Uhm.” You gave yourself a moment to think, though a part of you already knew the answer. And curiosity once again got the better of you. “Okay.” 

You were surprised by your own voice speaking, your mind quickly agreeing to his suggestion, though it was way out of your comfort zone. And William seemed equally surprised.

Withdrawing his hand, he repositioned himself a little and looked intensely at you.

“Wait… seriously?”

And you couldn’t help but chuckle a little, as his reaction to your reaction was slightly amusing.

“Why not… we’ve done so many other things – why not this?”

William couldn’t really believe it at first. What had he turned you into? You were definitely no longer the innocent girl he’d met and shown new territories. But he liked it. You were amazing how you let yourself into curiosity. And most importantly, you wanted to do it all with him.

“Well alright then… but not tonight – let’s do it another night.”

“Okay,” you chuckled, as you then repositioned as well, with confidence you rose and straddled his hips, prompting him onto his back and gazing seductively down at him. “Guess this is going to be an interesting celebration week.”

**

And it most definitely was an interesting week.

Following the loss against the Islanders Thursday night in New York, William was looking forward to coming home to you again. Well, at least home to his own place, where he knew you’d be. Arriving during the night, he simply admired your figure tangled up in his bedsheets before he too surrendered to the night, a smile on his lips as he thought about your plans for the following evening. 

While he’d been away, you’d done everything to prepare yourself for the Friday night.

You'd done research about the various ways to prepare yourself for the new activity you and William would explore. Mentally, you thought about what to expect—the possible pain and the pleasure.

You’d read about the dos and don'ts, understanding that reality wasn’t exactly equivalent to porno. So, real-life experiences were sought, and you felt confident in yourself. Having gotten to know your body a lot better over the past few months it had bolstered your self-confident.

Furthermore, you trusted William.

Though he hadn't experienced it himself, he felt confident too. He’d only tried one attempt with a girl in a casual friends-with-benefits relationship, where the encounter turned out to be somewhat unpleasant for both, and they couldn't go through with it. However, with you, he wanted to try again, taking it slow and creating a relaxed and comfortable atmosphere. While he hadn't delved into research as much as you, he ensured he was prepared. He wanted you to have the best experience possible.

And as William's training drew to a close, and he made his way home, he sensed a slow build-up of nerves. Which was an unusual feeling for him when it came to sex. However, since this was new for both of you, he wasn't entirely the experienced one this time.

Meanwhile at home, you were trying everything to keep yourself relaxed. Reassuring yourself that it wasn't a big deal—many people did this all the time, right? Yet, it was still a bit nerve-wracking. It was a territory you'd never even discussed with your girlfriends, and you hadn't really tried anything similar before.

So, you decided to enjoy a cup of tea to calm your nerves. 

And when William returned home, you swiftly embraced each other, not bothering with too much talk before finding yourselves in the dimmed lights of your bedroom. You had tried to make it nice and cosy, even preparing with a towel just in case of an emergency.

As you and William were together in bed you felt yourself slowly relax. His warm body against yours, lips connected in soft and gentle motions, tongues dancing sensually. The soothing smell of candlelight filled the air as you eased into the sexual pleasure.

Naked under the duvet, you calmed more and more with each deep kiss. William's fingers slowly explored your heat, gently circling your clit before he entered two of his thick fingers, as he wanted to make sure you felt good. Loosen yourself into his touch as he carefully pumped his digits and stimulated your walls.

And as he worked your tense muscles, you let the pleasure slowly take over, coursing through every vein. You felt an orgasm cloud your mind, filling it with dopamine. William felt how the high made you clench around him, and as you slowly came down, he sensed your tense muscles relax.

“You’re okay, baby?” William's low, husky voice softly echoed in your ears as he broke the kiss and gently pulled out his fingers.

“Mmm…” you nodded, flashing him a sweet smile.

“And you're sure you want to do this?”

You couldn’t help but offer him a light chuckle as you gently stroked your fingers through his hair. “Yeah, Willy, I’m sure… just… go slow.”

The way William was so relaxed had made you relaxed too.

“Of course, baby… and you tell me to stop if that’s what you want,” his voice came out slightly serious. He didn’t want you to do something you deeply didn’t desire, nor would he risk hurting you.

“Willy, I’m good,” you grinned sweetly, biting down on your lower lip as you gazed up at him. “Actually, I’m a bit… excited.”

And that seemed to reassure him enough. With a gentle nod and a sly grin, William then pulled away from you, kneeled between your legs as he leaned over to the nightstand where he had a small butt plug ready, as well as a small tube of lube.

You watched him intensely as he took hold of the little bottle, coating his two digits he’d just used inside your cunt. Then, he hovered over you again, one arm supporting him next to your head while the other gently traced up between your ass cheeks.

You couldn’t help but let out a light gasp as you felt the cold lube touch your skin, but you did your best to maintain control of your breaths as William’s middle finger gently poked against your tight hole.

And very carefully, he pushed it in, his eyes still locked onto yours as he observed your reaction.

Soft moans escaped your lips. It was a strange feeling, good, but strange. The way his finger slowly eased in, stretching your entrance, was an odd sensation that had you feeling a new form of pleasure.

“Is this alright, baby?”

With a light 'yes,' you reassured him once more, encouraging him to keep moving. He took his time, pumping his finger as he watched you whimper and focused on your breathing.

Then delicately, William tried to add his second finger, making sure his motions were patient and slow. He let his two digits stretch you a little further, and a louder moan escaped you this time. The way his fingers stimulated your ass was slowly becoming a little overwhelming.

“Is this good?”

“Yes, Willy… shit, it feels good,” you panted.

Slightly surprised by your own words, you moaned softly and let sweet cries escape, feeling a rush of pleasure slowly forming. It wasn’t like the usual way an orgasm would build up, yet it did feel really good.

“Baby, let me put the toy in you, and I’ll take good care of you.”

With a soft nod and a deep breath, you relaxed your body and William carefully pulled out his fingers. Then, he leaned over again, grabbed the little metal plug with a small fake diamond to make it look cute, coated it with a good layer of lube, before he gently placed it by your entrance.

“Ready?” he inquired; his eyes locked onto yours as you gave him acceptance. You noticed yourself briefly holding your breath as he let the toy slowly slip into you yet surrendering to the pleasure of the cold metal.

“Oh… fuck,” you breathed out.

William couldn’t help but express a smile, quickly gazing down as he saw the silver disappear into your hole. It was more than just a turn on for him. He felt his hard cock throbbing just by the mere thought of feeling himself inside you.

But he remained patient and controlled. And as the toy was all the way in, William then came back into missionary, kissing you again to make sure you were feeling good and calm with the new toy.

And you most definitely did. It was stimulating you in a whole new way.

Then, still with your lips connected, William lined his member with your heat and slowly eased himself into your core. Your juices provided him with a good amount of lubricant, mixed with the lube from the butt plug.

“Fuck…” he heavily breathed out. “Oh shit, baby, I can feel it inside you.”

However, you were unable to respond. Feeling William filling you up with his cock, coupled with the little metal in your ass, had you seeing stars. And as he then began to rock his hips, gently and controlled, you couldn’t contain your louder moans.

It was beyond intense. William’s cock alone could normally hit you so perfectly; however, with the butt plug in your other hole, you were feeling more than just pleasure. This was a different kind of high you were about to reach.

“Yes, baby… God! You feel so fucking incredible…” William moaned along your sweet sounds, as he thrusted into you. “Shit, I’m gonna need you to come for me, baby… show me how good I make you feel.”

Though the dirty talk seemed to come naturally to him, William also felt the need to make sure you were feeling the comfort and pleasure like he was, ensuring you'd come at least one more time, before he could move on. 

And he did not have to say much more. Holding a tight grip onto his shoulders, you let out cries, indicating you were so close to an orgasm. Feeling the intensity on your two holes being stimulated, it did not take much longer for you to almost scream out his name, letting your mind go completely foggy as you came.

“Oh Willy…” you whimpered softly, feeling his shaft softly pounding a few more times as you calmed down from your intense high. “Shit, that felt good.”

William was feeling rather satisfied with the results so far; however, he was also becoming more eager to have himself inside your ass.

So, with a few more seconds to make you both regain your breaths, he then slowly pulled out his cock, making you feel a void as he gently toyed with the little piece of metal.

“You think you can handle me, älskling?”

And with an excited nod, you bit down on your lip again, watched him intensely as you took in another deep breath and relaxed so he could slowly pull out the butt plug.

“Oh,” you moaned as you felt it stretch you once more, your hands finding the sheets to grab a hold onto. 

Then, with the toy completely out, William tossed it aside, again reached over to the bedside table, finding the condom package and the bottle of lube, and skilfully wrapped himself up, giving the latex an extra coat of lubricant.

“Alright,” he spoke dark and husky, as he again came to lean his body over you. “Just breathe and relax. We’ll go slow, and you tell me if it hurts.”

"Yes," you managed to exhale, feeling the tip of his cock against your ass.

Raising your lower half slightly to provide better access, William tried to ease himself in very slowly, almost agonisingly so. Only allowing the tip to barely enter, he observed you squirming beneath him, your nails digging into his skin as you attempted to control your breath.

He then retracted just a little before gradually pushing further, allowing more of his length to slip inside. 

"Fuck!" he erupted with a loud, raw moan. "You're so tight, baby!"

The intensity was overwhelming, overstimulating for both of you as your moans synchronised, resonating through the air. And in a matter of seconds, William was completely in, stretching your hole with his hard member.

A tear escaped from the corner of your eye, not a result of pain but sheer pleasure as William filled you up. And as he stared directly at you in search for any hints of discomfort, you flashed him a gentle smile and reassurance. 

"Willy..." you whimpered softly, your breath catching. "You can move."

Your eyes remained locked as he delicately withdrew before pushing back in again. And slowly, he established a gentle rhythm, allowing the lube to coat his member as he swayed his hips, stimulating your ass.

You couldn't stifle your moans as this new wave of pleasure built up, your hands moving eagerly from the sheets to his shoulders to his hair, tugging on it as William pounded into you.

"God, baby, you take me so good," praises slipped off his tongue.

And he knew he wasn't going to last long. The muscles were a lot tighter than he was used to from your cunt, pushing him quicker toward his climax. His palms gripped tightly onto the sheets beside you, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he kept thrusting. His movements gradually became a little harder and quicker.

"Fuck... shit... oh, baby... fuck."

A series of curse words were shouted as William maintained a steady motion. And you couldn't even articulate coherent words any longer. Only deep breaths and loud moans escaped you, and air was emptied from your lungs as your eyes rolled back in your head.

"Willy... I'm... gon... Mmmm come..." you managed to blurt out in between cries and whimpers, feeling your climax about to peak.

And as William felt himself right on the edge as well, he couldn't control his hard thrusts and deep grunts any longer. 

"Yes, baby... come with me..."

One of his hands forcefully grabbed onto the headboard of the bed as he now too cried out. On the brink of climax, ecstasy coursing through his mind, body, and soul. And as William felt your opening clench around him, as you moaned out his name in the purest sense of an intense orgasm, he then too, let himself surrender to the rush. Spilling his seed into the latex as a string of curse words and groans escaped his lips amid praises.

What felt like an eternity of a high rush was merely a few seconds, perhaps almost a minute, where the two of you were completely stunned. William's cock still buried inside you as you both slowly came out of the euphoric state of mind. Your legs trembled as you regained consciousness, your sight clearing as you felt your heated bodies share sweat and vibrations.

Breaths were deep and heavy, both of you finding your way back to reality.

And slowly, very slowly, William pulled out his shaft. Your ass felt sore and stretched, yet your body still lingered from the intense pleasure.

Smiles adorned your lips, and William took a few silent seconds to study your face, making sure you were feeling okay.

He rested his forehead against yours, sharing light chuckles before connecting your lips in a soft and tender kiss, ensuring the atmosphere remained romantic and sincere.

"You're feeling good?" he asked softly.

"Yes, Willy, that was incredible," you reassured him with a sweet smile. And again, you both waited a few more seconds, sharing a quick kiss, before untangling from the position.

Feeling beyond excited and satisfied, you took your time to clean up in the shower, softly and gently washing each other as you shared kisses and heartfelt giggles.

After all, William was a master at aftercare. 

And as you retreated to the bed, he made sure to snuggle and cuddle with all his love.

"You're alright, baby?"

"Yes, Willy, you don't have to keep asking," you giggled as you rested your head on his chest.

"Sorry, I just want to make sure it was good for you too," he glanced down at you with an arm resting behind his head and a smile across his handsome face.

"It was, baby," you gently leaned up and placed a soft kiss on his lips before returning to rest on his broad torso, his hand softly stroking your hair while a brief, comfortable silence settled between you.

"Will you stay here tomorrow? Until the game," his husky voice softly spoke, his eyes sparkling in the soft lights of your bedroom.

“Mmm, yes - but I might have to go by my own place during the day,” you flashed him a content grin.

“Why’s that?”

You leaned up a little, stretching your arms as you looked down at him with a soft smirk.

“Well, I have to go home and… collect some stuff, you know… if I have to be here for a little longer,” you couldn’t contain your amusement as William slowly came to realise what you were saying.

“Wait… so that’s a yes?” He chuckled.

“Mmm,” you nodded with a wide smile. “But I’m not sure if I’ll give up my apartment just yet… I want to do this right, Willy, and for me, that just means taking things a little slow…”

“Of course, baby, whatever you need,” William smiled as he gently sat up and connected your lips in a tender kiss. His hand finding the back of your hair, pulling you close to him, before swiftly retreating again. “Hang on… so anal sex was what had you make up your mind?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his sudden exclamation.

“Hmm, I suppose - I mean, you’ve literally seen every part of me now.”

William’s grin grew a little wider.

“Well then I guess I should have suggested it sooner.”

With playful banter and shared laughter, you and William continued to bask in the afterglow of your intimate moment. And as the night progressed, you found comfort in each other's arms, exchanging sweet whispers and tender kisses. The condo became a haven for your shared secrets, desires, and newfound closeness.

And the next morning, as the alarm set off, you woke up entwined with William. The previous night's passion had created a deeper connection between you two, and the sense of intimacy lingered in the air. 

With William then heading to morning skates, you took the opportunity to visit your place and gather a few more items than usual. And returning to his condo, you discovered he had made space for your belongings in his closet and bathroom. A wide smile adorned your face as you left your new home, eager to watch him play in the upcoming home game later that night.

#18+ #Inexperienced!reader x Willy #william nylander imagine #nhl smut #wn88 imagine #william nylander smut #nhl hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #SlutsforPresidentNylander

[dionewrites]

𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃. ˚₊ HEADCANONS // ft. Mammon 1k words · GN!Reader · SFW · Feel-good & Fluff ♛ Masterlist | Request Guidelines

⚠ Content Warning: Mention of his demon form, debts and creditors, Mammon being jealous, and reader being insecure, insulted, stressed, and unhappy. ✎ Note: I finally finished it! It took me four days because my assignments these past few days wore me out. Leviathan’s next to my list~ ♡

Mammon never thought he’d have a special someone back then, more so to be swept off his feet by a human. However, after meeting and spending time with you, you constantly occupy his mind at every moment of the day, adamantly dwell in his heart, and eventually become a part of him.

He adores you just the way you are. He’s already impressed by you and who you are and undoubtedly captivated by your charms when you’re yourself; hence you don’t have to change anything about yourself to prove, please, or win his approval. You don’t always have to be the best version of yourself with him because he accepts and embraces all parts of you. It’s okay not to be strong all the time. It’s okay not to do well and stumble a little bit.

Even by just existing, you’re already enough and the best in his eyes—and whoever dares to speak otherwise and insult you will drive him to turn into his demon form and goes into a serious and protective mode. He has quite a long history of being criticized and belittled harshly; therefore, he certainly doesn’t want you to go through that as well, especially since you never deserve to be treated that way. This demon rarely transforms into his form and loses his temper, but trust me; he doesn’t and will never hold himself back when it comes to matters concerning you.

He wants to be always there for you through good and especially during bad times, just like you do whenever he feels he has no one to lean on. Although he thinks and feels he couldn’t accomplish anything that utterly helps you or your situation, he still wants to do his utmost and be there for and with you no matter what, despite his belief that he may not be necessary or you might be able to manage it on your own. He silently hopes for his presence or the ambiance he creates by being there to comfort, give you peace and assurance, and be your safe place.

On top of that, he knows he’s not good with words, so most of the time, he expresses his concern and affection for you through little actions, such as carrying out your assigned house chores or errands before you can even do them, cooking or buying your favorite foods to make sure you eat, leaving presents for you that reminds him of you or something he thinks you’d like, taking you to spontaneous trips or late night drives around the Devildom with only the two of you, and simply laying your head on his shoulders or chest while he plays with your hands and fingers.

To make you laugh or entertain, he once begged involved his crow familiars in creating a special and memorable performance for you. He got that idea after watching the moonfish scene in Finding Nemo and thought it’ll bring a smile to your face. 

Even though he’ll not verbally admit it, he works hard to be the best one for you. He’s cognizant of his shortcomings, especially with his financial troubles, and being with him as his partner means you’re also inevitably involved in his mess. All the “love letters” his older brother received and settled back then now fall and entrust to your hands and shoulders (though Lucifer still helps occasionally if necessary). All the witches or other species he has serious business with might come to you instead of him. Thus, he spares no effort to control his sin and avoids getting into grave trouble that might implicate and burden you.

Nothing goes unnoticed by him to anything about you. He’s extra-observant and secretly takes notes of what attracts your attention. Spectacles? He wears it the next day. Blue? He’ll wear blue and buys gifts for you only in that color. Flowers? Expect him to give you a bouquet; if he’s short of money, you’ll receive them as origami (which looks ugly clumsy, but give him an A+ for the thought and effort). Whenever he sees you, he always fixes himself to look more presentable and attractive before you notice him. Everything revolves around keeping you interested and impressed by him; hence, he wants to look good in your eyes.

Although he’s terrible at keeping his surprises for you a secret, he never forgets and misses your birthdays and anniversaries. This demon has those special days on his mind months before the actual date and is excited to celebrate it with you.

He calls you “babe” verbally but “baby” in his mind. Every time he slips the tongue, he’ll blush really hard because he feels awkward and embarrassed that you’ll think of it as a cringe. After all, you’re a grown person, but he really can’t stop himself from addressing you like that, especially when he’s over the moon.

Whenever he’s full of the joys of spring, he loves hugging and spinning you around or taking you in his arms, lifting you up, and twirling you around while giggling and pecking on your cheeks, nose, and forehead. Once he realizes what he just did, he flushes but still proceeds to shower you words of love and appreciation.

When he’s jealous, he becomes quiet and grumpy. He’ll instantly grab your attention back to him with a long face, and if you still don’t stop or pay no heed to him, he’ll put his arms around your shoulder while scowling at the one/s he’s jealous of, or he’ll just take you away and kiss you somewhere until you’re out of breath.

His love languages are gift-giving and quality time. He’s constantly reminded of everything about you, so he can’t resist buying something when you’re not with him to make you happy and satisfied. Seeing you smile makes him feel warm and giddy. He also loves being with you all the time and receiving your whole and undivided attention because, for him, as long as you’re with him or it involves you, it’s all worthwhile.

Dating Mammon means being someone’s everything. Despite being in the grip of greed toward money, he values and loves you more than anything and anyone in three worlds. After all, you’re the only one who sees the best in him when others only always see the worst. That being so, just say a word, and he’s more than willing to give you everything and more.

#♛ | writings #♛ | in mind's eye #obey me #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me fluff #om! shall we date #obey me mc #om mammon #obey me mammon #mammon x mc #obey me headcanons #obey me mammon x reader #obey me x reader #obey me mammon headcanons

[jksprincess10]

You better run || Javier Peña x reader

Summary: Everyone insists you stay out of the action and Javier makes up for it in the end. 

CW: Reader and Javier being shitheads ???, angst, smut smut smut, rough sex, dirty talk, hair pulling, cum painting (?), oral sex (f), talks of wounds, violence, Javier is kinda mean, probably more.

With Carillo back at the head of the search block, everyone wanted the recruits to be away from the action. Especially you. Even though you were supposed to be doing the same job as Peña, your partner, he was the only one sent out with Carillo.

You had heard what he had done to Gustavo. And you believed it. But you wanted to prove the men around you that you could do the same job as them.

 You looked up as Javier entered the room, still sweaty, still wearing a tight shirt and those jeans that stretched perfectly on his ass.

“So, can I come?” You attempted.

They were going on a run tonight.

Peña sighed and lit a cigarette with your lighter. You took it away from him as soon as he was done and you hid it in your back pocket.

“No.”

“Look, Peña, I’m not some fragile thing that you have to protect. I’ve seen some shit too, and I can’t stay here while you’re out there getting our men killed.” You protested.

He took a drag of his cigarette, before giving it to you, as if to calm you down. You sighed and took his offer, you thumb and index fingers holding the smoke, before your lipstick stained the yellow part.

“Believe me, it’s better if you stay here. ” His hands pressed on the surface of the wooden desk. You watched as his arms flexed, and you gave him the cigarette back. He brought it to his lips, sharing an indirect kiss with you. That’s as close as you allowed yourself to be from him. “I’ll see you after. Keep answering the phone.”

“That kinda feels misogynistic.” You said as he was leaving. “Using me as your secretary. While you’re the one dressing all slutty with your tight clothes. You’re pretty much dressed for the job, Peña.” You mocked him as you clearly looked at his ass.

“Maybe you’d be in a better mood if you got fucked real good. Talk to you later, partner.”

Thank god he looked away, because you blushed like a virgin under his comment.

**

The phone didn’t ring. You almost fell asleep at your desk as you waited for Javier to report back. You could’ve gone home. 

But in the back of your mind… you wanted to make sure he was okay.

When the office went back to its usual level of animation, you understood that they were back. You straightened up and waited for Javier to meet you in the office you shared with him. He appeared in the doorframe, still wearing his bulletproof vest over his red shirt. You couldn’t deny that he looked hot.

He was out of breath, and he was… hurt.

You got on your feet and pulled the chair for him to sit down.

“What happened?!” You asked as you looked at the gauze around his arm that was stained red.

“Got grazed by a bullet. It’s okay.”

“Obviously not, you look like shit.” You sat on the desk in front of him and handed him a cigarette.

“Ran into an ambush…A lot of men are hurt. Worse than me.”

“Shit.” You cursed and you lit a cigarette for yourself.

“And the phone?”

“No luck either. Told you you were a better secretary than me. C’mon Peña, I’ll bring you home. Can’t drive with your fucked up arm. You need rest.”

He tried to protest, but you were already out of the door.

**

Your eyes focus on the road, and not on the sweaty man in the passenger seat. Well, you tried. You also managed to park in front of the apartment complex you shared with your partner without looking at him.

You both got out of the car and were going your separate ways, but Javier’s voice stopped you.

“I need company.”

“Well, call one of your usual whores, hm?”

He shook his head. You frowned.

“Fine, you want me to play as a nurse as well?” You said sarcastically.

Javier didn’t respond and let you follow him inside. You both sat in the living room. You felt awkward, being here. You both smoked in silence for a while.

Finally, Javier talked, but it didn’t ease the heaviness in the room. It made it worse.

“I saw some rough shit. Carillo just… killing some fucking kids, man.” It was the first time you’d heard Javier getting emotional, his voice breaking as he remembered the kids faces. “I need you… to stay here. Please.”

You nodded silently.

“This is why I don’t want you coming with us.” He added.

“I chose this job.” You got up to help him take off his bullet proof vest. He had forgotten it, too busy with the events of the night. Your hands accidently grazed his sides, and you tried to ignore how warm he felt. You then sat beside him and delicately undid the gauze thrown around his arm. “Go shower, you’re sweaty and smelly. I’ll put a bandage on it after.”

For once, he listened to you. He discarded his cigarette in the ashtray, and disappeared in his bathroom. When you heard the water run, you tried to ignore the thoughts filling your head. You imagined how he looked as the water trailed down his body. You had never seen him naked, even shirtless. But of course, you had heard rumours of what he looked like under his tight clothes.

You also ignored the throbbing sensation between your thighs. It had been a minute since you had company yourself. You finished your cigarette and waited, lost in your thoughts.

Javier pulled you out of your own head when you saw him coming out of the door, only wearing a loose white towel around his waist.

“Have some more bruises I want you to look at.”

“Do you really have to be naked?”

He smirked in response. You rolled your eyes and got up. You found the bandages in the bathroom and put a tight strip around his hurt arm. Your eyes focused on his injury, so you didn’t lose your mind over his body.

“My back hurts, can you look at it?”

You groaned and you did. Some fresh bruises painted his toned back. “Just some bruises. Not much I can do.” You averted your eyes.

He turned around and held your chin, making you look up at him. You swallowed nervously.

“You can help me forget.” He leaned in and grazed your lips with his. You felt your legs getting weak. “Go take a shower. I’ll be waitin’.”

**

Javier had you under his spell. In your mind you were just... helping out a colleague who had a rough night.

You didn’t know how he did it, but here you were, completely naked, standing in the doorframe of his bedroom, while he was splayed on his inviting bed. The yellow light of the room just warmed up his skin tone even more.

Self conscious as you felt his eyes finding your body, you put your arms around your chest. You averted your eyes, not looking at his perfect body.

“Let me see, hermosa. Wanted to see this perfect body since you became my partner.”

Shyly, you put your arms away and looked at him. He was perfect in every way, sculpted by the hands of the gods themselves. Your feet brought you to his bed, like you were under some spell, where you kneeled between his opened legs.

“Secretary, nurse, whore… is there another job you want me to do?” You teased.

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

“I want to.”

With the motion of his fingers, he asked you to come closer. You did what he asked, and leaned down to meet his lips. Javier’s fresh scent filled your senses, as you let him guide you with his mouth. Your partner kissed you slowly at first, before getting more heated. You took some courage and straddled his thighs, trying to ignore the feeling of his length against your wet core. When he felt how wet you were, his hand sneaked between your thighs. Two fingers met your throbbing clit and teased it without mercy. You instantly whined against his lips, wanting more. You hadn’t been touched in so long, and your own fingers just didn’t do the job right. You could only get off by imagining Javi’s hands on you. You were ashamed, yes, but you’d keep that information to yourself.

You didn’t last long under Javier’s skilled fingers, and soon enough, you found yourself meeting your high. He didn’t stop though, going again and again, until you pushed his hand away.

“Too much.” You mumbled and laid on his chest. Your hand sneaked around his member, feeling the weight of it. You lazily stroked him, and he laid back, just admiring how your small hand looked around him. “How do you want it, when you want to forget?” You asked innocently, while he was pleasantly sighing under you.

“Rough. But I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Strop trying to protect me, Javi. I like it rough. A lot.”

His skilled fingers grabbed your hair so you’d level with him, and he kissed you with all the hunger and roughness he had, just to see if you could handle it. You moaned against his mouth and let go of his member.

“Please, Javi… fuck me..” You begged against his mouth.

“On all fours, hermosa. Let me get you ready.”

While you situated yourself on the bed, he got a condom and lube. He teased your entry with two wet fingers, and he positioned his hips behind your ass.

“Look so good for me like this… not so smart after all.” He said, and you could imagine the grin on his face.

“Fuck y-.” You said, interrupted by the rough slam of his hips. He filled you up instantly, and pleasure was already mixing with the pain. Your top half fell on the bed under the impact.

“C’mon, you can hold yourself better than that.” His hand grabbed your hair to lift you back up. You were silenced again by his powerful thrusts. Your shaky arms held up your body.

“You’re so silent when you get fucked, hermosa, maybe I should do that more often so the office would be quiet.” He said between gritted teeth.

Between your folds, Javier let himself forget the horror scenes he had witnessed in the streets of Columbia. He thought about your petals enveloping him, of the sweet essence of your shampoo leaving faint traces on his hands. He thought of the sounds you were making for him. He let himself dance in the music of your skin tapping together. He bathed in the mixture of your sweats.

He was getting too drunk in the idea of you. He was on the edge when he pulled out. You protested, still clinging on to your high.

“Be a good girl for me, and I’ll reward you. I promise.”

You grunted in frustration, but he flipped over and you stopped protesting when he took off the condom and jerked himself in front of your eyes.

“Let me paint your face.”

God. He had bewitched you, and now he wanted to leave his mark on you. But you obliged,  and you let your tongue out of your mouth and closed your eyes. You soon enough felt warm liquid on your face.

“Jesus.” He grunted. “When you’re talkin’ too much, I’ll keep this image in my head. Even… wait.”

You heard shuffling, then the familiar clicking sound of a photo being taken. You swallowed the salty liquid.

“Javi, happy now? Please wash me up.” You protested, eyes still closed.

Your partner washed your face with what you imagined to be the biggest shit-eating grin. You finally opened your eyes fast enough to see him disappear between your opened thighs.

“You were so good for me…”

You cursed and arched your back to get more friction. His nose was nudging your clit, and you felt his facial hair on your skin.

“Found another way to shut you up, hm?”

“Javi, Javi, please – oh my god…”

His name came out of your mouth like a spell.

You would stay away from the action if it meant ending the night like this.

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena smut #javier pena x yn #javier pena x y/n #javier pena narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut

[princessjojo-x]

CancerVenus ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆

💝 he may a quiet, submissive & vanilla lover.

💝 he’s unlikely to make the first move unless he’s known you for quite some time & has good reason to believe his feelings are reciprocated bc he’s sensitive, reserved & fears rejection too much to risk being let down. initially he can be very aloof with love interests & tends to play the field. nothing is obvious with him & he is hard to read.

💝 even after you’ve both shown mutual interests & began dating one another, he’ll resist being the first to confess feelings & he may even take his feelings to the grave. he’d much prefer you to open up first which will allow him to feel comfortable enough to open up too. usually, it takes him a long time for him to become emotionally invested in a partner. he may hide or sabotage in order to refrain from falling too deep in love. you’ll need to prove to him that you’re dependable, safe, responsible & nurturing before he opens the door to his heart. you’ll know he likes you when the hard crab shell comes off.

💝 his emotional state is vey changeable & unstable. it’s possible that this originated from a cataclysmic emotional event in which his ability to feel inwardly secure has been serverely compromised. old wounds & past traumas can heavily influence his present rxships & cause him to react from a place of fear rather than love.

💝 despite him continuously learning a lot of hard lessons through love, somehow he never gives up on love. he is extremely nurturing & protective. he can even be smothering & clingy. he overwhelms his lover with attention.

💝 he has a fear of being too vulnerable & even verbalising what he needs or feels can be too exposing for him (its an instinctual response to his distrust of most people). therefore, he has a silent emotional expectation that his partner should somehow know just what he needs without him even verbalising it. when these needs are unmet, he can react very badly, from deeply crushing silent treatment to extreme anger outbursts.

💝 he is emotionally intelligent & he encourages others to let out their emotions. if you’re going through emotional distress he naturally responds with nurture, wisdom & support.

💝 he can be moody, shy & emotionally manipulative (blaming his partner for his own low mood, especially since he take everything she says personally).

💝 you will know someone with cancer placements is taking you srsly & trusts you when they invite you to their home bc their home is a very important place to them. it’s where their personality shines, it’s their walls full of pictures of family & friends, books their mother read to them when they were little, blankets their grandmother made for them. they can’t let go of these things so when they let you inside their little shell, you can tell they put a huge amount of trust in you, they don’t do that with just anyone.

💝 he holds grudges a lot bc it's the only way to stop him from forgiving others. if you try to lie to him he’ll always have receipts ready!

💝 all cardinal venus signs tend to stop making efforts in their rxships once they get the person they were chasing, then either leave or complain about how boring things got.

💝 typically, if he isn’t interested in someone he will fabricate an excuse instead of telling her bluntly bc he doesn’t want to make her feel rejected & sad, a feeling he knows too well.

Turn On’s:

💝 he prefers love over lust.

💝 he seeks a partner who is emotionally understanding & provides him emotional security.

💝 ensure to give him lots of physical affection bc he establishes trust through physical touch. the best method to calm him down is literally giving him a hug.

💝 he loves a woman who’s the perfect blend of docile & dominant. dominant in the sense that she’ll be mature, reliable & persistent (he loves the mother archetype, being babied by a partner who feels like home). docile in the sense that she is willing to taking care of him & cater to him. he may even like passivity & receptivity in women, where he is the one providing & she can receive it.

💝he likes sweet, soft, gentle, delicate, nurturing, compassionate, patient women with feminine energy. create a warm, loving space for him to relax in at the end of the day or be willing to listen to how his day went.

💝 treat him like a priority & make him feel important. he needs constant reassurance, comfort, safety & vulnerability. ts

💝 his ideal partner has a water sign moon or ascendant.

💝 he wants someone with a strong connection to family or someone who wants to build a family (family oriented).

💝 ask him abt his rxship with his mum as he may have a mommy kink or mommy issues (or he may tend to attract people with mommy issues).

💝 sexually, he needs very strong touch, holding & kissing in order to feel sexually secure & trusting. unless he feels emotionally safe, he’ll feel sexually insecure.

💝 to impress him, dress a tad more modest & traditional, he likes a gentle aesthetic. he likes the colours of the moon (white, grey, light blue). don’t dress with too many colours or patterns. show da titties off, cancer placements love titties.

💝 he finds shy people super cute & charming.

💝 all water venus’s want emotional security. they want to be able to have a safe space & build a deep bond (they lacked this this security growing up). they want to feel spiritually bonded with their partner.

Turn Off’s:

💝 he loves to talk abt his feelings so he’s turned off by overly aggressive, emotionally closed off, overly confident, arrogant, aloof, flashy & inconsiderate women.

💝 he dislikes being rushed or pushed to make decisions. he moves at his own pace & if he become overwhelmed, he’ll retreat.

💝 he’s turned off if you don't let him in bc he likes to build a full connection asap & may have problem with the waiting stage. he wants to be sure things are going steadily in the direction of you being fully open to him, fully trusting in him & being an open book for him to read. he craves that intimacy & prefers love over lust, so if you don’t share yourself fully too it may annoy him.

💝 he’s turned off when you make him feel left out, unwanted & refuse to take his feelings into account (same for all water venus).

💝 telling him he makes you feel super uncomfortable & unsafe. telling him that he’s creepy, perverted & gross.

💝 rejecting his cuddles & food.

#astro notes #astrology #venus signs #cancer venus

[danikamariewrites]

Loved ‘My North Star’ so much!! Now I can’t stop thinking about Cassian with a mate who can wipe the floor with him in combat and he’s like wtf? I have met my match (or superior in this case). If you write a part 2 (which I hope you do!) could you include that? Or write a seperate story?

When The Nightmare Feels Real

Cassian x reader

A/n: So I wanted to write this as the part two originally but I thought adding Cassian’s view of how strong reader is would be good to. Again, thank you for all the love on My North Star! It’s definitely one of my favorite fics I’ve written. I’m very proud of that one.

Warnings: nightmares, worries, and some fluff

Ever since you landed in Velaris Cassian has been amazed by you. He has met his match yet his equal with you. You are everything he has ever wanted in partner. The last year with you has been amazing.

You’re adventurous and strong. But there are times when you haven’t loved your new home. Adjusting to Velaris was hard. As much as you hated your life and siblings, you did miss your home.

Lately you’ve been going through one of those phases where your nightmares were too much. Sleep was impossible once you woke up. Too many times Cassian has found you on the roof staring at the stars. A longing look in your eyes.

He was too scared to do anything but sit there with you. Cassian yearned to pick you up, holding you to his chest as he brought you as close to the stars as possible.

Tonight was one of those nights. Except tonight you weren’t on the roof. Cassian had sensed you up in the training ring. When he pushed open on the door he spotted you fully dressed in your Illyrian leathers that you fixed some of your armor to.

Making as much noise as he could Cassian came to lay down next to you. Your jaw was clenched so tight Cassian could hear your teeth grinding together. You were gripping your hands so tight your knuckles were stark white. It broke Cassian’s heart to see you like this. To see his girl, so strong and sure of herself, become unsure and question herself and abilities.

“What if they come true one day?” Your voice barely above a whisper. “What if he does find this place that I love so much like in my nightmares? And what if I can’t do anything to save you? Or the rest of the family.” A tear slid from the corner of your eye into your hairline.

Cassian sat up, smoothly pulling you on to his lap, smoothing down your hair. “That won’t happen y/n. I’d never let him or anyone hurt you Angel. And no one. No. One. Is taking me from you. That’s a promise.”

You feel his rough fingers gently caress your chin, pulling you to look up at him. “I can fight. Our family can fight. You, my fearless warrior, can fight like I have never seen before. There isn’t a doubt in my mind you couldn’t protect me.” Another silent tear falls down your face.

Cassian wipes them from the apples of your cheeks. He stands, holding out his hand for you. “Get up,” he said softly. You gently place your hand in his calloused one.

As soon as you stand Cassian pulls away getting into a ready fighting position. You shoot him a questioning look. “You wanna do this now?” “Yeah! I’m trying to prove a point babe. Let’s go!” He starts bouncing on the balls of his feet, punching the air.

You shake your head at him getting in your own ready stance. Cassian nods and you nod back signaling the start of your sparring session.

You felt alive and alert. Sparring with Cassian always made you feel better. He knows all the ways to push you to be the best fighter.

Once you had Cassian pinned your scowl turned into a smirk. His point finally hitting home. If you could take down the General of the Night Court you could surely you could take down Castor. With Cassian and the rest of your family standing with you nothing would harm you.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #cassian x you #cassian fanfic #cassian imagine #acotar cassian #cassian x reader #cassian #cassian acotar

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hello hello!! I hope you’re well. Tysm for all the wonderful writing you do for us!

Can I request a slayer who is also a demon & has a crush on a shy Genya? He likes her too but tends to avoid her like how he does with most girls. But then they’re sent on missions together because Kagaya thinks it’ll be mutually beneficial (he eats demon flesh to get stronger & she also does need human flesh. They both heal from doing this so it’s okay).

Ik that’s like so specific dkska so it’s totally okay if you’re not interested in doing this! Thanks again & have a nice day <3

Oooohh! Well, I’m not entirely sure what to write exactly for this but I will try the best I can!

Shinazugawa Genya- Unlikely Partnership

Genya is a naturally shy young man to girls. He wasn’t the nicest to them, back when he was even younger then he is now, and he feels guilty for being such a jerk. Nowadays, he can’t even face a woman without blushing deeply and stuttering wildly

Genya was originally alerted when he first met you. A demon! You’re a demon! He was ready to attack you but when the Master proclaimed you are a demon slayer and proved it, he immediately stepped back and whilst so flustered, apologised for his irrationality

Genya, once he has calmed down and accepted the reality of a another good demon, grows very shy yet considerate. You’re still a simply gorgeous girl, rather you be a demon or not, and he can’t help but feel so humiliated with himself anytime he messes up, even in the slightest

Genya enjoys going out on missions with you, all the more he does. You’re very skilled yet sweet, you don’t need to eat human flesh whilst Genya can utilise demon flesh for power, you are even willingly to let him bite you and use your Demon Blood Art

“Be careful, Genya!” You call out as you raise your katana and swing down, your focus was branched out onto multiple things; where Genya is, protecting the nearby civilians and drawing away this demon. You didn’t fail to perform a form of your breathing style to decapitate the demon’s arms and wind a mighty kick to it’s chest to temporarily wear it off. Genya, on his end, continued to lead away the injured civilians

Genya did hear your call of concern from the few feet of separation between you two but he didn’t know how to verbally respond as he stuffed the handful of injured civilians into nearby huts for protection, slamming the door shut and launching off his heel to meet up with you again, unbuckling his signature shotgun. He thought he was mentally and physically ready for literally anything but what happened caught him off guard and made him drop his gun

You, with a missing leg that thrashed blood around the floor and the enemy demon, suddenly fell into his arms in a bridal-carry style and it caused Genya’s face to explode in rosy red blush as the demon suffered through the effects of your Demon Blood Art, the one you used the second your blood made contact with it’s flesh. That demon had managed to torn off your limb whilst throwing you off your feet but luckily, your partner was there to save your skin. Smiling gently at Genya’s wondering but lovestruck eyes, you chimed out a sense of true gratitude

Genya knew you were just joking with your remark but the way you said it… is just so convincing

“Awwww~ thanks, my hubby. You’re the best partner ever~”

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #anime and manga #kny imagines #headcanons #kny characters #shinazugawa genya #genya shinazugawa #kny genya #kimetsu no yaiba genya #demon slayer genya #genya x reader #genya baby #genya shinazugawa x reader #kimetsu genya #shinazugawa x reader #demon slayer shinazugawa #genya fluff #genya headcanons

[aboutescapism]

enjoy the silence II | ao’nung.

ao’nung x fem!sully!reader

previous part | part two | next part

synopsis: Ao’nung’s words had hurt you, but his contradictory actions hurt you more. You realize your mistake in your idea that you’d be a good match, but it may have already cost you your life.

genre: angst.

contains: more pining from reader, mixed signals, ilu riding. mentions of near death experience, suffocation, overwhelming feelings. ao’nung literally being so confusing. requited love after all?

a/n: welcome to the second installment of enjoy the silence! the first part ended up being posted two days earlier than expected (the last time i ever schedule a post) and still needed scenes added but, i’m so happy you all loved it so much anyway! i tagged everyone who asked to be tagged. thank you guys so much for the support!

The morning after Ao’nung had said those things to you by the shore came quickly. After he had stalked off, you went back to your mauri, purposely taking the long way home to be with your thoughts for a while. Did you read his signs wrong? Was he even giving any signs to begin with? Or had you been clouded with the illusion of being a perfect pair that you hadn’t even considered how Ao’nung felt?

Your siblings could feel your slight sadness when you arrived back, but no one had questioned it much, save for a few, “Feelin’ alright?”s from your father. Moving to Awa’atlu had affected everyone, they had felt the overwhelming ache of homesickness every once in a while, they understood you were feeling down. If only they knew, your once source of happiness was now your source of distress.

Despite that, you weren’t angry with Ao’nung. Not at all. You understood where he was coming from completely. As the future Olo’eyktan, he needs to protect his people. That means protecting them from humans, and your family had brought that threat. If anything, it’s natural for him to be hostile towards you. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. But you were resilient.

You just had to prove to him you were more than what was running in your veins. 

Today, like the past few days, was filled with training. Ao’nung was paired up with you, again. You felt uneasy at first, not wanting to make him more uncomfortable with you. He gave Tsireya a look, almost begging to switch partners. She only rolled her eyes and smiled when you reached them.

He must’ve told her how he felt about you, or maybe she had heard his harsh words to you last night. Either way, you’re sure she smacked him upside the head for upsetting you. Tsireya took a genuine liking to you, and she may or may not have been doubling her efforts in winning over the Sully family due to her liking of Lo'ak. 

Once all together in the shallow water, Ao’nung began to call to the Ilu. Almost immediately, they swam up and circled him. It was mesmerizing, watching him call them so effortlessly, how they swam up to him so fondly. 

“These are Ilu. If you want to live here, you have to ride,” he explained. You were excited, you had little trouble claiming your Ikran, surely this is no different.

Ao’nung faced you, pointing, “the demon girl will go first.” Your eyes widened, suddenly intimidated. But, you had to show him you weren’t just some forest girl with five fingers.  

You swam up to an Ilu, petting it. It clicked at you, nudging you affectionately. This creature was so gentle, so sweet to you. Your Ikran was nothing but the opposite when you claimed it; squawking loudly, attempting to throw you over the edge of the cliff. You gained some confidence from its gentle demeanor, and climbed on top. Tsireya and Ao’nung swam up beside to keep the Ilu still and allow you to make a bond. 

“Make the bond, and hold here,” Tsireya gestured to the handle. You pulled your queue from behind you, bare, pink nerves ready to make a connection. You took a deep breath and made the bond with your Ilu. Suddenly, you felt its being as whole, as a part of you. You felt its breath, its fins, how strong it is, how eager it was to swim with a new driver. 

“Breathe from here, remember. Hold your breath when you dive, the Ilu is fast. But it will know when to go back up for air. It feels you, you feel it,” Ao’nung placed his hand on your upper stomach like he had done when training your breathing. You gasped quietly, not expecting such a gentle, forward gesture from him. Especially not after last night’s exchange.

Your golden eyes made contact with his, your brows furrowed in confusion. Hadn’t he just reprimanded you for just merely existing? Now he was touching you so delicately, like you’d break from too much pressure. Had last night really just been a bit? Just a teasing joke? Maybe he didn’t hate you after all? 

His mixed signals made you feel fuzzy, your brain suddenly so confused. The Ilu felt it, too, and began to thrash around from the uncertainty you felt at Ao’nung’s touch. He removed his hand from you, much to your disappointment, to calm the Ilu back down to stillness. 

You shook the thoughts about him out of your head, you had to focus. “I’m ready, I can do this.”

“Start slow, don’t hurt yourself,” Ao’nung’s tone was firm, but worried. Perhaps he did care for you.

You took another deep breath, and went off into the water. 

You started slow, like Ao’nung instructed, getting comfortable with being pulled through the water by the Ilu. Gradually you sped up, gliding through the reef with ease.

The rush of adrenaline that flowed through you only made you more and more confident. The beautiful reef had you hypnotized, you felt so much while being wished around the glowy underwater plants and animals. The swirl of colors dizzied you in only the best way, leaving you in awe.

You reached a hand out to brush against the foliage as you flew past it. It was so soft to the touch. It only reminded you of Ao'nung's.

What he said greatly hurt you, joke or not. The contrast of his words then and now was so confounding to you. And with the thought of him back in your mind, you became tense, now losing your focus. You lost your balance on the Ilu along with your secure grip.

This thrashed you around some, but you could regain your composure. Unfortunately, it was proving difficult.

You underestimated the force of the water. Your grip on the Ilu faltered more with the ever growing speed. You couldn’t keep up, the pressure was too much. The rush of the water was now pulling you back, straining your limbs. Dreadful fear filled you when you realized, inevitably you’d be knocked off and sent into waters you weren’t familiar with at all, with animals and creatures you’d never interacted with. 

You had underestimated the difficulty of riding an Ilu, just as you had underestimated Ao’nung’s impact on you. It was all too similar.

At first, you’d been confident and blinded by excitement. Excitement of meeting your seemingly perfect match. Excitement of trying something new. You weren’t careful, not assessing the situation completely before you dived in headfirst.

You didn’t take Ao’nung himself into account, how powerful his actions, his feelings are just as the water’s force is on your body now. Oh, how your impulsivity ricocheted back to you, but ten times stronger. Whiplash from Ao’nung’s mixed signals and the rush of the current you’re trying to push through. 

You had to let go, you realized. 

You had to let go of the Ilu before you hurt yourself. You had to let go of your delusional idea of yours and Ao’nung’s relationship before it drastically hurts you. Or him. You couldn't bear the thought of hurting him, in any way.

He didn’t feel the same, he never would. Spiraling down this idea would only complicate things more. You needed to let go.

With that, you took your grip off the Ilu, ripped from the back of the creature and sent off into the water. 

Your breath had begun to ran out and you were so far down, clouded with thoughts of needing air and needing Ao'nung. Neither would come to you soon enough.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of azure eyes caught sight of your descending figure before it was too late. He couldn't bear the thought of you being hurt. The thought alone was what was driving him to swim to you faster.

Ao'nung needed you, too.

taglist! @maxiel4life @aonungmyaddiction @awkward-halfhug @bratsukisworld @bigdikzaddy @iheartamajiki @adaiasafira @holysaladapricothero

#girl #i was so shocked to see it got over 300 notes #also some of the tags r not working #don't know why #so sorry LMFAO #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung angst #ao'nung series #aonung x reader #aonung angst #atwow #part three coming kinda soon? i have some stuff coming up but its already in the works!

[sleepingdeath-light]

relationship hcs ; lute

requested by ; anonymous (19/03/24)

fandom(s) ; hazbin hotel

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; lute

outline ; “If you write for lute, could you possibly write some soft headcanons for being with her?”

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

lute is someone who values her privacy and her professionalism above all else, which means that she’s hardly the type of partner who’ll be engaging in blatant pda for all of heaven to see — she’s affectionate enough, sure, but that softer side of her is very exclusively for your eyes only and will only be seen when the two of you are alone (or in a much less overt form around adam, who is one of the only people to know you’re an item)

her affection usually comes in the form of preening, resting against you/letting you rest against her, and, of course, kissing — and her favourite places to kiss you are: the tips of your fingers (especially when you’re holding hands), the insides of your wrists, and the backs of your shoulders (usually when she’s just woken up and you’re still half asleep)

the main way that she shows her love for you is through acts of service and she’s forever trying to prove to you that she’s the perfect partner for you — sometimes this comes in the form of her wordlessly doing your share of the chores when you’re sleeping, other times it means fetching you a hefty serving of your favourite meals or treats when she’s coming home from one of her outings, and occasionally it can mean carrying your bags around for you when you’re out shopping or are going on a trip to another part of heaven

(little things that show her thoughtfulness, strength, and ability to take care of and protect you)

and the main love language that resonates with her is words of affirmation as she positively thrives under your praise and affection (no matter how much she may outwardly deny it — the girl’s prideful but the way her cheeks flush and her wings fluff up is impossible for her to hide). compliment her wings as you help her preen them, gush about how strong and powerful she is whenever she lifts something heavy for you or invites you to watch her train with the other exorcists (and skirts around the purpose of that said training as she’s forbidden from telling you about the exterminations), thank her earnestly whenever she goes out of her way to do something nice for you, and praise her for being such an amazing lover when you’re alone

she rarely ever gets jealous, at least not enough for anyone to pick up on her discomfort and envy (aside from adam, anyway), but she does find herself becoming much more openly hostile and derogatory to any redeemed sinners (or anyone who comes from hell) that try to befriend, or heaven forbid flirt with, you — the best way to quell her temper is just to escort her to somewhere quiet and reassure her that you’re not going anywhere and that nobody else could possibly compare to her

lute is only really comfortable with using pet names with you in private, if only because of how blatantly being called any sort of term of endearment by you affects her — and even then she tends to stick with the tried and true ‘babe’ (she learned it from adam, it slipped out by mistake once, and it just sort of stuck)

she’s incredibly protective over you and will do whatever it takes to keep you (well you and the rest of heaven… but you especially) as safe and comfortable as possible — and after the two of you started courting there was a noticeable shift in her performance during the yearly exterminations. she was always good, great even (one of adam’s best girls without question), but after that point she started setting records in her brutality, effectiveness, and kill counts pretty consistently from year to year… because in her mind each and every sinner was a potential threat to your well being and she refused to take any chances

#sleepingdeath #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lute x reader #lute x reader #lute fluff #hazbin hotel lute fluff #hazbin hotel fluff #gender neutral reader #fluff #fluff hcs

[bringthekaos]

Ok so maybe kind of an unpopular opinion here: I've seen many fics, and it's a common hc, that the Piltovian elites dislike Viktor because he is a ~ zaunite ~ but I'm like... no, piltovian elites would LOVE Viktor precisely because he is the perfect fairy tail for meritocracy advocates, a pacifier for the ruling class consciousness. "See? This young man was SO POOR and he FOUGHT his way to the top! He must be so inspiring for the undercity youth!" (Nevermind that the system they imposed is the reason he had to fight in the first place, that he had to cheat to get there, otherwise it would have been impossible). He represents the idealized version of the "hard working, honest, intelligent man who is different from his peers and therefore triumphs over them", it's the proof that the system works (ignoring of course that he is the exception that proves the rule). In a way like Golden Boy Talis, he is also an accessory to flaunter during investor's galas and maybe another way for him and Jayce to find a connection

Oh I think you’re absolutely right, he is a poster boy that the bureaucrats can hold up and say, “see? There is no war in ba sing se no barrier keeping Zaunites from achieving greatness in Piltover, he did it!”

It’s the same old talking point the far right in America uses. “There are no barriers, you’re all just lazy!” But they like the idea of him more than they like him. Because he’s just a thing they can laud to show off how benevolent they are, “we’re not xenophobic, see??”

Never mind that he has to bend over backward to meet standards that are set higher for him than any average Piltovian. Never mind that he has to traverse a city that is focused on form over function, a city that is inaccessible in almost every way. So as long as he maintains their status quo as the perfect “success story” they can swing in their favor, then they “like” him.

But the second he makes a misstep, the second he breaks that status quo, they will turn on him. We’ve seen how they don’t even show mercy to one of their own (Jayce) when he fucks up, I can only imagine the mindset when it’s a Zaunite, the backpedaling and lies—“I knew we shouldn’t have let him in, didn’t I say it? I was suspicious from the beginning, but I kept my mouth shut because I am a philanthropist!!”

The only one who truly saw him for who he is… was Jayce. From the very beginning, Viktor wasn’t some charity case, a trophy of the good work of the Piltover Council. He was Jayce’s partner, his equal in every way. Jayce saw only Viktor’s genius, his brazen determination to do good, even in the face of real consequences.

Which is why the Divorce is gunna hurt Viktor so bad. The entire city of Piltover turning on him… not shocking in the slightest, and honestly he knew it was just a matter of time. None of them actually liked him, they just used him. But not Jayce. Jayce was the one person he thought he’d never lose, the one person he trusted to actually protect and stand by him. And I don’t know how the falling out will go down in Arcane, but one thing is for certain, Jayce will not understand.

#arcane #arcane meta #jayvik #jayce talis #arcane Jayce #arcane viktor #asks #ace answers

[emry-stars-art]

tell us about the royals au!!! (im on my knees. please.)

Ohhhhh my friend you have started me on a RANT I hope you’re ready!!!

I don’t know that I’ll ever actually write it so I’m not too worried about spoilers, and the wonderful people in my dms (which are still open btw) bouncing ideas with me are always going to come up with great ideas so I’m putting WIP in big red letters, things are subject to change! But for now, some ideas. Most of what I have will be under the cut, but if you want to know more about a specific part/have any questions please I’d love to chat :D will link to the art/posts I have so far!

(In this au I’ve been referring to Neil as Nathaniel at first and then Abram (hello names as a plot device), and everyone else right now is some version of their name)

Kevin and Nathaniel were raised at Evermore castle, Kevin to be in direct competition to Riko/see which of them might claim the throne (not thought out yet), and Nathaniel as the Moriyama’s attack dog, born and raised to take his father’s place as such. The two never met in person, but Nathaniel knows and recognizes Day because of course he does, and Day knows the name Wesninski means a very, very dangerous person. Essentially the top assassin on the continent.

But as we do, Day decides he can’t/won’t handle the treatment anymore, whatever the last straw may be, and runs off to Palmetto in a kind of desperate chase of the stories his mother used to tell him when he was little. He knew she loved that kingdom. Somehow he finds Wymack - the twin’s royal advisor - or Wymack finds him, and once Wymack realizes who this kid is and has reason to believe he’s not here on Evermore business, he puts Day’s incredible talent and training as a tactician/commander to work as his pupil.

Meanwhile Nathaniel is still at Evermore, mistreated and learning from his own failures and mistakes until he’s nearly as good as his father at the family business.

I don’t know how long Nathaniel plans it, but he either plays the part for long enough or his skill is so undeniable that when the Moriyamas have plans for the Palmetto Kingdom, they send him and one other accomplished fighter to kill the king. Nathaniel goes quietly and decides he’s not coming back if he can help it.

So instead of killing the young king, Nathaniel’s panic has him turn on his partner at the very last second, stopping them just before they can get to the king. He takes them somewhere far away and does what he does best, leaving no one to report back to the Moriyamas. From then on it’s a waiting game to see how long the family will wait before they send someone after him.

Day’s followed them, and Nathaniel turns around from the body and sees this man he hasn’t seen in years, alive and safe away from Evermore. It’s as elating as it is crushing - because Day heard his partner call him by name, and there is no way Day will ever let a Wesninski walk away alive. Not if he knows what’s good for all of them.

Except Day doesn’t kill him, even when Nathaniel asks him to. (Better Day than Riko, Nathaniel knew that even when they were all stuck at Evermore). Instead, he takes Nathaniel back to the twins/Wymack, gives him a little bread, and they sit until he can pry out an explanation. (See the comic of this first meeting here.)

Day and Nathaniel spend most of their time together because Day refuses to let Nathaniel out of his or Wymack’s sight until he proves not a threat to the royal family, which proves an issue because between Andrew’s rotation of personal guards (he never gets along with them well enough that they stay/aren’t fired) Day is Andrew’s guard, which sometimes means Nathaniel is stuck a lot closer than Day would like. But after a long, long time, Day and Wymack decide Nathaniel was serious about the whole “runaway” thing and isn’t playing spy (maybe there’s some dramatic event/Nathaniel protecting a twin that convinces them or maybe it’s just a lot of little things over time). Andrew, after a rough spat with the latest guard, is again in need of a new one. Finally Day just asks “is there ANYONE you could possibly pretend to get along with that can do the job” and Andrew knows Nathaniel is dangerous he just doesn’t know exactly how or why (but oh he is curious) so maybe he just straight up says. “Wesninski.” And Day has to go “…. Fine.”

So boom. They knew each other superficially before, but now Andrew and Nathaniel are spending most of their time together and miraculously - no arguments. No spats. Day thanks the gods there’s no physical altercations (that’s probably what got the last guard fired so quick). Nathaniel is just a mystery with shady ability to tell the truth and Andrew can’t help his curiosity. Good old fashioned andreil :D

From here the timeline becomes essentially nonexistent, I have no idea when these things happen in relation to each other but so far they’re all things I like and want to include!

1) there’s plenty of games and competitions at Palmetto, we love a good tussle, and Nathaniel usually does quite well - he’s not good at playing fair, but his underhanded methods are not technically illegal and usually he can use his preferred weapon - dagger rather than sword. He does well except for the one time an opponent accidentally says/does something that was constantly said or done to Nathaniel while “training” at Evermore, and he comes back to Andrew and the tent he watched from in the beginning of a panic attack. Andrew doesn’t know anything about Nathaniel’s past at this point, but he knows a panic attack when he sees one. In trying to talk him through it, Andrew realizes that yes Nathaniel is scared of being hurt, but he’s more afraid of hurting others. Nathaniel won’t let Andrew call him by name, he flinches every time Andrew says it. After, Andrew asks what he should call him instead, and Nathaniel finally asks to be called Abram.

2) Balls! Masquerades! Abram doesn’t have many outfits, he wears the regular issued uniform to every event. Andrew will not stand for this. Abram always wears clothes that cover him fully, which is fine, Andrew can work with that. He’s still seen Abram in a tight shirt or two. So he commissions one of the most knowledgeable people in the court (we’re thinking it might be Allison, she’s a noble but she’s great with textiles/embroidery/etc) and gets Abram a new outfit. It still covers him, its still protective material, but it looks better. (Find Abram in a corset here). Andrew handles it totally normal and rational in his head when he sees Abram actually wearing it of course.

3) Day probably assumes for a little while that Andrew and Abram have got a more or less normal guard/charge relationship, even thinking it’s slightly antagonistic considering this is Andrew we’re talking about. (This doesn’t fit the timeline, but here’s a mini comic of one of Day’s misunderstandings hehe)

4) king Aaron! He became king at 18/20/whatever age we decide this universe deems old enough because he is in fact the elder twin here. I imagine their parents have both been dead and gone for at least a few years at this point. Dan is Aaron’s guard and she and Abram hit it off great as coworkers and friends. More on the uncertainty of the twins backstory later. (Drawings of Aaron and his queen Katelyn here!)

5) the angst. The Moriyamas should have heard from the Wesninski boy months ago - something somewhere went wrong. So, naturally, they go to collect their property. If they get away with it, we can imagine how it goes. What I don’t know is if the twins, Day, and Wymack know for sure he was kidnapped or if they have a little nagging in the back of their head that wonders if he’s only run away from the castle or if he’s run back to Evermore with everything he’s learned.

When he’s recovered, Day doesn’t let Andrew too close too often for a while. If Abram forgets where is for even a second too long - waking up from a nightmare, having a flashback - it’s long enough for it to be fatal to whoever might get too close to Abram. It’s already almost proved fatal for Andrew, after Abram played normal so well that Andrew let it slip - he forgot Abram was taken back to Evermore for them to finish making him into a thoughtless weapon, and they’d nearly succeed. He wakes Abram too quickly and ends up extremely lucky Abram recognizes both his voice and the way Andrew didn’t call him ‘Nathaniel’ or ‘Wesninski’. There’s really a huge amount to possibly be covered about this point so I won’t go into detail here - but if you like hurt/comfort you know where to find me 👀

6) the biggest thing we haven’t figured out is Andrew. Either he was kidnapped at a young age and only recovered in his teens, or the elder King Minyard didn’t much care for his second son. Though I’ve always liked the idea of Mr. Minyard being a good man who died shortly before the twins’ birth and their mother just couldn’t handle the grief or knowing that the twins look like him. Anyway a lot of the twins’ issues after both of their parents are dead are the advisors or other people around them that try to take advantage of their youth and inexperience for their own gain, without realizing that both Aaron and Andrew have had to grow up much too fast, each for their own reasons. They can usually see right past the tricks. It’s why they both trust Wymack so much - he’s one of the few adults that are truly there to help them, and not make decisions for them.

Im sure there’s more I missed, but this is long enough as it is lol. People have asked about the Trojans/Jean in this au, and I’d love to include them! My brain’s instinctive response is that Jeremy is some sort of high end noble/royal of a faraway kingdom, and Jean (always last to leave the nest, im so sorry baby) somehow gets over there, but I don’t have an idea of his or anyone else’s roles yet. Renee could even still have a hand in him getting there if we really want.

So I’m still writing snippets and drawing over here lol but i promise I don’t bite if you want to talk :D

#dear. lord. #this got long #very handy that tumblr adds a read more button to mobile as soon as I learn the shortcut for it #whatever I’m uh #invested #that’s the word I’ll use #I TOLD YOU ROYAL AUS ARE MY ABSOLUTE BABY #my main ocs have a royal au too that’s equally as long winded #it’s insane what this universe can do to me 😭 #uhhhh okay tags #my writing #royal au #asks #neil josten #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #kevin day #david wymack #aftg #all for the game #oh also lemonzestedtea #your tags bless me #thank you for the cool pillow 🙏

[socialkid]

(Alternative title: Not so Secret admirer)

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x Fem! Reader

Genre: Romance (Enemies to Lovers?)

Warnings: Slight cursing

Summary: When catching the eye of one of your most prized possessions, you remember the romantic story and reasoning behind it.

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love on my last post! I really do appreciate every single like, comment, and reblog! Now that I think of it this is kind of a Valentine’s Day post…but who cares I’m only one month late!

Having a Pro Hero boyfriend was a bit of a struggle you had to admit. Don’t get it wrong you loved the attention from the various amount of people who shipped you and Bakugou, and the feeling of protection and safety when you’re snuggled up in bed with your human explosive, but that was the thing. Waiting to get that affection from your partner was such a long process, especially on days with outrageous villain attacks.

You picked up your phone rotating it to the side to checking for the red line identifying that the phone was possibly on silent mode. It wasn’t. You turned on your phone and scrolled down your notification banner; Snapchat notifications, TikTok notifications, and other unnecessary announcements. You went to settings to check your notifications. Your messages seemed to be on. You opened the message app and clicked ‘Dynamite 🧨💥🧸’ only to see your chain of texts still on delivered. Sighing you lazily scrolled through your texts then studied his name above them. You remember for months Bakugou had questioned the teddy bear emoji. You placed down your phone as your eyes trailed over to the teddy bear on your side of the bed. An cute almond brown bear holding a red heart that had the words ‘Be mine?’ printed in cursive on it.

You grabbed it and snuggled it, the fur on it tickling your nose, and the scent of your boyfriend lingers on it. You remember your first look at this bear. It was all the way back in second grade. Everyone was passing out candy and cards into everyone’s boxes for Valentines. You had finally gotten around to the last desk and dropped your last card in. When you got back to your desk there it was; the bear sitting on your desk with a card right beside it. You didn’t even bother to open the card yet, you just went straight for the plush. “H-hey who gave this to me?” You asked loud enough for the students to look back towards you. They murmured and questioned but the kid that caught your eye was Bakugou. The one who didn’t flinch by your question, nor turn around and face you. Just continued to eat his candy in a careless manner. You had a hunch it was him because he did the opposite of what everyone else did, but why would he get something so meaningful for you?

Back even when you were younger than second graders, you and Bakugou had never had a good history. As it seems to be known Bakugou and Izuku Midoriya, your green haired friend did not get along as kids. Whenever Bakugou would pick on him, the classmates felt bad but they didn’t want a piece of Bakugou so they just stood to the side and observed. Until you came along. Bakugou still remembers the day the teacher introduced you to the whole class. He stared at you as the teachers endless babbling continued.

“Oooh looks like somebody’s in love!” One of Bakugou’s friends teased him as the other clammed his hands together and proceeded to make kissy faces in the air. “What!? No I don’t, and I’ll prove it!” Bakugou replied quickly. He waited for the teacher to Exscuse you to go sit down on the carpet before he spoke, “Hey newbie! Why don’t you just step aside cause I bet you’re really weak!” Bakugou shouted. “Bakugo-!” The teacher started before you interrupted her, “Not weak, just stronger than you.” You replied calmly. Some of the class laughed while Bakugou gritted his teeth in anger. “Yea yea whatever, you haven’t heard the last of me.” He muttered but to your surprise he left you alone. And since he left you alone that meant he was back to only one target. Midoriya.

All day you watched Midoriya being stepped on by Bakugou and his crew. “Hey Deku you should just give up now. You don’t even amount to me!” This kid would say proudly while showing off his quirk. ‘What’s this kids deal?’ You thought. Finally recess came around and you sat down and played in the sand box with this other girl. You were enjoying your time not long before commotion broke out behind you.

“You’re being mean Kacchan! Leave them alone!” The green haired boy yelled. ‘Kacchan…?’. You stood up from the sand box, the girl in there with you questioning you. “Deku what did I tell you about trying to be a hero? It’s not gonna work, at least not against me.” Bakugou replied punching his fist together. Izuku trembled but stood his ground as Bakugou and his friends approached him. He reached for Izuku’s shirt before you screamed, “NO!” Everyone stopped in their tracks.

“You again,” Bakugou said “What do you want?”.

“I want you to leave him alone!” You replied. Bakugou stood silent with a puzzled look on his face. “What this loser?” Bakugou said moving him by his shirt. “He’s not a loser, you are! Now get away from him!” You replied. Bakugou blinked than let go of Midoriya. “Whatever, you two can hang out and be two quirkless losers together!” Bakugou almost shouted. He walked away, his two friends trailing behind him. You turned around to go back to the sandbox before hearing, “Hey, thank you!”.

Ever since that day Bakugou’s always seemed to have a bone to pick with you. You thought he hated you, little did you know this boy was absolutely fascinated by you. No one’s ever had the courage to stand up against him nonetheless succeed. His ego wasn’t as big as it would be in middle school (in the future) but he still had his moments. Yet he wanted to impress you. He would never admit it. Like ever. But he would give anything just for five seconds of your attention. So he would do stupid things. And when I say stupid things, I mean very stupid things. Like insulting you. Why he thought that was a good idea, you will never know. Litteraly trip on thin air just to see your reaction. And then there’s the normal stuff guys do to get a girls attention; talking loud, acting different when you’re around, and sending his friends to talk to you. But still not enough. You were too busy hanging with that Deku kid to “notice him”.

“Katsuki we came to the store to buy Valentines for your classmates so that’s what we’re going to do!” Mitsuki, Bakugou’s mom said dragging Bakugou by his arm. Mitsuki had gotten a email from the school that they had a Valentine’s Day party in for the second graders in the classroom. She wanted her son to be involved in the classroom more often, seeing his ego was growing she knew he had very limited friends.

“But I don’t want to.” Bakugou pouted trying to walk back to the exit of the store. Mitsuki struggled against her surprisingly strong son but dragged him back to the shelf.

“LISTEN, Katsuki! We’re just going to grab a stack of decorative cards and candy and then we can leave ok!?”, Katsuki pouted at this. He turned her back on her with his arms cross whilst her mom asked him questions she knew he wasn’t going to even respond to. “Ooh these are cute, how about these? Ooh but these ones come with stickers. What do you think?”. Bakugou began roaming the isle looking up and down the shelves. He scanned and studied the objects but there was this particular one that caught his eye. It was a cute little cuddle sized bear. It held a heart with fancy writing that spelled ‘Be Mine?’.

After about 5 minutes of shopping Mitsuki was done, but when she was she caught her son eyeing this bear. She stood behind him for a good two minutes before he turned around a noticed her. “Jeez! Mom what do you want?” He asked after being startled by Mitsuki. “Do you want me to buy that bear for you?” Mitsuki asked him. At this Bakugou cocked an eyebrow up at his mom. She never usually buys the stuff he wants in the stores, she’s more of a work for it and earn it type of mom. “Why?” Bakugou asked. “Oh I don’t know, possibly for a little crush you might have at school?” She asked him smiling. At this Bakugou’s ears lit up. “NO I DON’T!” he shouted. “You might want to watch who you’re yelling at Katsuki.” Mitsuki replied very calmly but scary enough for him to simmer down.

After the back and forth between the mom and son they walked out of the store with grocery bags, Mitsuki’s hand held with Bakugou and Bakugou’s free hand carrying a teddy bear.

Bakugou sat up in his room staring at the bear on his bed. He got up and opened the door out of his room to peak on the kitchen counter where a couple extra cards laid on the counter. He took one and a sharpie that was next to it and snuck off back to his room.

And that’s when you received your bear by a “secret admirer”. You weren’t 100% sure it was Bakugou, but you didn’t care. You cherished that bear. You took it everywhere with you, airplanes, vacations, sleepovers, it didn’t matter what the occasion. Even in 6th grade when you had pajama day at school. “You still carry around that stupid bear?“ Bakugou asked. “How do you know, have you been watching me?” You asked as he scoffs, “Besides I think he’s cute.” You replied hugging your bear as Bakugou grunted but exscused himself quickly because he felt his cheeks burn. You ask him about it later but he just pushed you away. But Bakugou knew you wern’t the type of girl to push situations away, you wanted to get to the bottom of everything.

The questions you asked him for months seemed so intrusive to him after a while he was thinking about just telling you the truth so you would leave it alone. But by then his ego was to big.

As the years went on the drama between you came to a rest and finally you two became somewhat friends. And somewhere along the road some what friends became best friends (with crushes on each other yes). Now you were in your last months of U.A and had been known of the school’s best couple for years now. And yet still through the entire way you had the bear.

You remember the first time you had a sleepover with your boyfriend in your dorm. You had just came out of the bathroom brushing your teeth to see Bakugou (in his black tank top 😩) with your teddy bear. He hadn’t noticed you there, but you over heard him muttering to himself, “She till has this huh? Commitment.” He said, then placed the bear down. He turned around to face you and slightly jumped “WHAT THE HELL!?” He screamed as you giggled, “What is up with you and my MOTHER sneaking up on me all the time!?” He said, still he grabbed you and pulled you into his arms.

You always think about the story of you, Katsuki, and his bear in your free time. But your thoughts were interrupted by heavy foot steps outside the apartment door. The keys jingled for a while before the door was unlocked and your boyfriend trudged in. He closed the door and locked it behind him, then headed straight to your room where he knew he would find you.

“Baby!” You said groggily still holding on the bear. Bakugou grinned a bit before pulling you off the bed and locking you into his arms. He then proceeded to kiss you longing for the taste of you all day. “How was your day Suki?” You asked him as he snorted, “Nothing special down at the agency pretty slow day if you ask me. But I’m glad to be back at home with my baby for our special time together.” He said kissing your neck as you sighed with pleasure. You could do this all day but you knew Bakugou had to get in the shower, he absolutely refuses to get on the bed dirty.

Once he finishes showering he slides into bed with you. You have SpongeBob playing in the background, Bakugou learned not to question it when once you had a six hour fight about it.

Your still snuggled up with your bear when Katsuki finally pops the question. “What is up with you and this bear?” He asks as you turn over and face him. “Because you gave it to me.” You reply. “Yeah yeah, but how did you even find out?” He asked. “Dunno. Maybe it was justa gut feeling? Or the the amount of times you made it obvious, it could be that too.” You teased. “HAH? So you’re getting smart with me huh dumbie?” He responded. “Just a little” you giggle. You pull yourself closer to Bakugou and close the gap in between you.

“I love you Suki.” You say earning a kiss on the tip of your nose. “Mmm love you more baby.” He replied. “I have something special for you…” you said smirking. “Oh really?” Katsuki asked grinning leaning more on you by the minute. You hummed in agreement before reaching behind you and grabbing a pillow and hitting Katsuki Bakugou smack dab in the face.

Your giggling became continuous laughing as Bakugou’s smirk turned into a frown then into an evil grimance. “Alright, since you want to play that way.” Bakugou started before grabbing a pillow and swinging at you. You quickly dodged it and ran around the room, Bakugou chasing you close behind. After about two minutes he caught you and picked you up. “NOOOO!” You screamed while laughing before he threw you onto the bed and the game was over.

“God I can’t wait to make you my wife.”

BONUS:

For those who are curious what 2nd grade Bakugou’s note read, here it is:

“Here’s a bear you deserve it. You work really hard and you seem nice. I hope you enjoy this. Happy Valentines Day.” - Secret Admirer.

Such a sweetheart am I right 🥹 ?

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