#i still fought the urge for like a year

[krikeymate]

In the “billy parents the girls” au, I wonder how Sam and Billy would react to Tara being attacked by ghostface? Like one overprotective and “slightly” unstable family member wasn’t enough.

Somebody knows.

That's his first thought. Maybe he should have known something would happen on the 20th anniversary. He never thought it would come back to him. After all, there was a 'Ghostface attack' just five years prior, and it was all about Sidney. Why wouldn't it continue to be all about Sidney? Billy's dead after all.

He should have moved out of Woodsboro. It's always been risky, staying. But this was his home, and by the time he'd given up entertaining the thought of revenge against Sidney, he'd put down roots. He'd thought about moving a few years ago, when the last attacks happened and the police started sniffing around for information, but the girls had friends here, and Sam's never quite treated him the same since she learnt the truth. She would never have agreed to leave.

So here he is, staring Deputy Judy Hicks right in the face, unrecognised. God these people must be stupid, to look him right in the eyes and still not see him. He manages to talk his way back into the house with a well-placed quip about the absence of their good Sheriff and a reminder that his 14-year-old daughter, her own son's friend, who was attacked, is going to need some comforts of home and her inhaler.

He pauses to take in the murder scene on the way. He memorises the pattern of blood soaked into the living room carpet, the outline of his little girl, the kitchen knife abandoned on the floor. His own knife. They used his own knife on his daughter. When he finds out who did this, he's going to make them pay.

He packs a bag, he packs Tara's essentials, a change of clothes for Sam and the teddy bear she denies sleeping with. He heads for his own room to get some things, and that's when he learns somebody really does know.

Because Billy is scrawled across his bedroom wall in red.

Red is all he sees.

#/mp #ask box #Billy Loomis #AU: the past in the present #the tags tag #I love making baby Tara be attacked. it's so tragic. #the urge to make Sidney Ghostface here is astronomical lmao #anyway what are the logistics of there being two Mr Carpenters in Woodsboro technically and both have been seen being a father to Sam? Idk. #Billy's like 'Christina had a type what can I say'. Her husband left because he discovered the truth and he got to step up. #God I have so many thoughts about where this could go now actually #Like say it WAS Sidney. Who couldn't take knowing Billy was out there still. After everything she just couldn't take it. #She was never going to kill the girl. She just wanted to injure her. Scare her. Get Billy's attention. #But the girl fought back with unexpected ferocity. Things got out of hand. Billy uncovers her in the end and finally gets his revenge. #Gale and Dewey are distraught. Gale investigates. She discovered the truth. Billy Loomis is alive. She reveals it to the world. #Billy finally gets arrested. Tara doesn't take the reveal well. #Sam is old enough to take custody of her sister. She does her best. It isn't good enough. They both spiral. #Just a few years later her sister gets attacked AGAIN. This time it's so much worse. #Her injuries are so much more severe and the perpetrators were people they loved. It wasn't even about Billy this time. #It was about some fucking movie. #Sam moves them to New York after that. But everyone knows who they are. The daughters of a serial killer. With a body count of their own. #There's just no escape.

[tojikai]

Sundered 5: QUARRELS

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Part 1  |  Part 2   | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 …+

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, explicit smut, arguments, implied noncon

word count: 6.8k

This is close enough for a beggar like him.

“When Yui turns three…” Satoru turns to look at you with a small smile and a look in his eyes that you know too well not to understand at a glance. “When Yui turns three?” You urged him to continue, “...we make another one. Hopefully, a baby boy.” He pulled you on top of him as you laughed fondly.

“I can’t even count on my fingers how many times you said that already.” You giggled, kissing his blushing face. “I can’t have you forgetting. It’s a must. We make cute babies.” He spoke each sentence in between pecks. “ Yeah, but she’s only 5 months old, Satoru.” You put your head on his chest, feeling him caress your hair.

“I know, but I wanna tell you in advance.” Moments like this make you forget about all the problems and fights that you have with him. “But we’re gonna get married first, of course.” You looked up at him, watching his eyes glimmer. “You’re asking me to marry you?” You poked his side.

“Of course, what else am I gonna do with you?” He flips you over, kissing your neck and chest before attempting to pull the straps of your nighties down your shoulders. “This is for your daughter, don’t even try.” You pointed a finger at his nose as he pouted, “She’s asleep. Can’t I get a sip?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you making you giggle.

“What is going on with you?” He kissed your lips, joining you in your joy. Just two days ago, you and Satoru were screaming at each other’s faces because of how he got angry at you for talking back to his mother. She came into his house, trying to fight you because you got Yui’s ears pierced. You and Satoru agreed on it, but he didn’t like that you ‘talked back’ to his mom.

And now, it’s all gone. Washed away by his touches. Drowned away by his kisses and moans. “Remember when we did this while you were pregnant?” You could hear his smirk as he nibbled on your skin. You're now lying sideways with your hand holding one of your legs up. His strong arms were wrapped around your waist, caressing your lower stomach.

“Gonna put another one here in a few years.” He grunted when you reached for his hair, pressing him closer to you. “Satoru…” His breath on the shell of your ear only made you heat up more. You sobbed as his thrust got faster and harder. “Yeah, you want that.” He bit your ear lightly as you arched your back, whimpering.

You were just about to tell him that you’re close but Satoru got your body memorized. His hand was already trailing down to your womanhood, fingers rubbing on your nub as he coaxed you to your climax and followed shortly after. He finished inside you with your name flowing smoothly out of his lips. You stayed in the same position; with him still inside you as he pushed your legs together.

It was only one of those nights that made you believe that you’d be together until the end.

“...a new one?” Satoru’s voice snapped you back to reality. “Hm?” You turned to him, seeing that he was already staring at you. Yesterday, you and Toji fought. And today, you did again. Is the honeymoon phase they were saying already over? You gritted your teeth. “Are you still thinking about it?” Satoru’s voice was laced with concern as he drove.

Yesterday afternoon, you and Toji were talking about how much louder it gets when there are more kids around. Other than Yuuji, a little girl from their neighborhood named Nobara also joined—a name Yui cannot pronounce correctly but kept saying anyway. 

With four children running around the house, you and Toji could only communicate with eyes, teasing like a married couple planning for an addition. You two could only joke around the topic, though, knowing how serious and how big a responsibility it will be. 

Besides, your relationship is still young and you would like to get married first before taking a step like that. But marriage still feels pretty far for you and Toji.  

“Look, I’m sure he doesn’t mean it like that.” Satoru tried to comfort you. “His wife used to do that stuff and now he’s just sharing it with you.” He explained. You can’t help but feel like you were being petty. The kids had a playdate and you thought that making a bit of juice for their picnic would give them a better experience.

Toji started randomly talking about how his wife had little cousins and she refused to give them juice until they were 5 because it’s terrible for toddlers’ health. And though, you understand this, the way he said it just put you off. You felt like he was comparing you to her and you just didn’t like the way it made you feel. 

Before, there were times when he would mindlessly say that his wife introduced something to him or taught him to do something and you would think that he was probably just reminiscing. But now you just felt…sensitive. It just felt like you still had to compete even if there was no one to compete with.

“He’s probably just suggesting.” Satoru tried to explain for Toji, something you didn’t think would ever happen because they’re almost always wordless around one another. “Suggesting what? That I should do what his first wife did? And today he got upset that Yui and I would leave early to go with you.” Satoru sighed, nodding slowly.

Ever since that night, he’s been a lot more calm, more patient, and more careful with everything he does. “We should’ve canceled and moved it another day.” You looked at him, disbelief flashing on your face.

“Y/N, he’s your boyfriend now. It’s not good to leave a fight without talking first, even just for reassurance.” Whatever he’s been learning at counseling is definitely working, you thought. When he first told you about it, you didn't know how to react. Probably because you know that the cause of your problems is not just him. But also his mother.

“I told him we’ll talk later. He just doesn’t like that we have to spend time around each other like this.” Your voice was quieter. To be honest, you don’t know how to deal with that because it concerns your daughter too. “We can…we can just reduce times like this to milestones like birthdays and school events when she’s finally in school,” Satoru spoke, clearing his throat.

“I don’t think it’s that important anyway, Yui will understand that we’re separated soon. She’s growing fast.” You glanced at your daughter as she waves at the passing cars. Satoru’s right. “Yeah, I’ll just…I’ll talk to him about it.” Satoru probably doesn’t want it like that, but nowadays, he’s been…different. In a good way.

“By the way, I have a…my previous car. Do you remember? The one before this.” He asked, “Your car always breaks down. I mean…You can have it. So, you won’t have to take a cab when you take Yui to daycare, go to work, or pick her up from my place.” You can tell that he was nervous to ask you about it.

“Actually, if you want. I can ask Toji, so he won’t think of it as anything.” You looked away, thinking. You’re not the only one who has a significant other here; Naomi might think of it as something too. “You have to tell Naomi too.” You glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “Yeah…” He cleared his throat. 

Silence enveloped the three of you for several minutes until Satoru spoke again. “My counselor said it’s easy to mistake comfort for love.” Taking a deep breath, you chose your words carefully. “You can learn to love people and things.” There was a long pause along as you reached his house.  You checked on Yui to find out that she fell asleep.

“That sounds like resignation, Y/N. Love doesn’t need conditions.”  He mumbled, looking at his lap. “Let’s go, she’s getting uncomfortable.” You took Yui’s things before following him inside his house. “Don’t forget her vitamins, Satoru.” Humming, he opened the door for you with your sleeping daughter in his arms. 

To his surprise, the lights were on and there, his mother and Naomi sat on his couch.

“You took so long. Did you forget about your girlfriend?” His mother was the first to speak. “Why are you here, Mom? You’re early, Naomi.” Naomi glanced at you with a look on her face that you can’t quite read. There’s nothing sinister about it, in fact, she looked nervous.

“She’s early because she won’t be working full days anymore.” You stood there awkwardly, feeling invisible before Satoru took a step closer to you, “Since she’ll be a part of the family soon, I asked your father if he can take it easy on her workload. Lovers should spend time with each other as much as they can.” His mother continues, emphasizing the word ‘family’ as she gave a mocking glance your way.

She never once considered you as one. Not that you want to be related in any way to someone like her. You scoffed inside your head, seeing Satoru glance at you. “We do spend enough time together.” He spoke, “And why are you deciding for her, Mom?” He took the bags in your hand, “Let’s go to Yui's room.” 

“It’s okay, I won’t be staying for long anyway, I just wanted to drop her off.” After taking Yui to an inflatable indoor park, Satoru bought her a Hello Kitty cake just as you were about to go home. The kid was excited to open the cake with you, but you were reluctant because you don’t really want to be around Naomi. After being assured by Satoru that Naomi wasn’t supposed to come over until Friday, you finally agreed.

You should’ve trusted your gut, because here she is with Satoru’s mom, like a cherry on top.

“I’ll take you home, let’s just put her to bed, then we’ll go.” The child stirred in her sleep, adjusting her head on his shoulder, “Mama, cake.” She murmured, probably dreaming about her food. You looked at Satoru, catching him already staring at you and something tells you it’s gonna be alright even with these two people who seemingly want you out of your own daughter’s life.

“We’ll talk later,” Satoru spoke to them, gently nudging you toward your daughter’s room. “There’s literally nothing to talk about, son. We just wanted to make the two of you more free for each other. Can’t have others hogging all of your attention from your lover. She won’t appreciate that. Isn’t that right, Y/N?” You paused, glancing at Satoru.

“With your new boyfriend, doesn’t it irritate you when he uses his time for other things?” You can tell that his mother is trying to elicit a reaction from you. “The only thing my boyfriend does other than work is take care of his son.  And I will never put myself in between them.” Before his mother could even say anything, Satoru quickly took the stage.

“I said later, Mom. Naomi and I will talk. It’s our relationship.” With that, he walked with you into Yui’s room, closing the door behind him, careful not to wake his daughter up. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t think they’d be here.” You took Yui’s shoes and jacket off, before letting Satoru put her down. “I know, it’s okay.” Kissing Yui’s forehead, you could hear him whisper curse words.

“Hey.” You can tell he’s more than upset. This is probably more painful and exhausting to him than you thought. “I don’t know anymore, Y/N.” He turned away from you, running his hand over his face, “This. This is what’s making my life harder.” He gestured towards the door, referring to his mother. “This is what made our life harder.” You caught him saying as he shook his head.

“Just talk to them. Maybe there's a reason for this. She’s just naturally hostile with me.” You shrugged, knowing that he was speaking the truth. “That’s the point. She’s pointlessly hostile and she thinks she can decide for me.” Turning to you, there was redness in his eyes. 

Satoru didn’t want to seem like he was asking you for comfort. He refused to give you that before, he’d be shameless if he wanted you to hold him. “Let’s go. I’ll explain to Yui, we’ll call you later.” Blinking hard before opening the door, Satoru knows better than to allow his mother near you. You never told him but he knows that she slapped you when she came to your house.

They fought about it when he went to their mansion. Thankfully, his father backed him up with a speech about protective orders which shut her down. It pained him to be like that to his mom but he can’t just have her abusing you just because she can. 

Satoru walked beside you, covering you from his mother. “Satoru…” Naomi called out but his mother quickly spoke, “Doesn’t she have a car? Did it break down again? Ah, like before, when she wanted someone to take her home.” There was no hint of amusement in Naomi’s eyes, probably clueless as to what she was talking about. 

“I’m calling Dad to pick you up.” With that, he continued walking, leaving his mother with an angry look on her face. “That’d be good. He will be here to discuss things since he’s her boss. He might even give her a vacation. You and Naomi can go out of the country. Get close, plan things like marriage, children—” Stopping in his tracks, Satoru turned with his jaws clenched. 

“You know what? Maybe I shouldn’t leave my daughter here. After all, you threatened to take her away.” Walking back to Yui’s room, Satoru didn’t think twice as he grabbed your hand, making Naomi tense up. “Can she stay with you tonight? I’ll get her tomorrow.” He murmured, breathing hard as he picked his daughter up again.

“You think I’ll kidnap my own granddaughter, look what she’s making you think.” You can hear his mom as you rush to take Yui’s things. Whining, Yui covered her ears as Satoru walked her out of the room with you beside him. “I don’t need to kidnap Yui to get her away, her own mother isn’t even capable, what makes you think—” Satoru cut her off when he stood in front of her.

“I’m filing a restraining order.” He spoke, voice low as he tried to stay respectful despite what he was saying, “Against you.” His mother’s eyes widened in surprise, “Come on.” Ushering you out, and leaving his mother stunned. Opening the door for you, he then proceeded to fix his daughter in her car seat.

“Mama why?” You shushed her, caressing her hair, “We’ll eat cake at home.” You smiled at her, trying your best not to sound panicked before closing the door to finally get in the car. Satoru was about to get in the driver’s seat but Naomi came out of the house and ran to him. Glancing at you, she held his hand, “We’ll talk about it later.” He told her, checking if his mother followed. 

“Can’t you just…” Naomi was about to say something but held back, grabbed his collar, pulling him down to kiss his lips. You almost immediately looked away, seeing from your peripheral vision how she put Satoru’s arms around her waist. “Come home quick.” She whispered not so quietly at him. Getting in the car, you wondered if his mom told her about it.

“Naomi…” Satoru sighed, pulling away before looking at you with a concerned look in his eyes as he nodded away at her words. Leaving her, Satoru entered the car and started it. She stood there with a mixed look on her face that screams how irritated and upset she is with the events. 

“You don’t have to file a restraining order against her. She’s still your mother.” You didn’t have to say that but you felt like you’re the reason why there’s a gap between them now. “She’s not good for Yui. I can’t have her around speaking about you like that in front of her.” He was breathing hard. “Can you calm down? You’re driving.” 

“Sorry.” He muttered, before taking a deep breath. “I hope she won’t be there when I come back. I can deal with it on my own, whatever Naomi and I have to talk about.” He ranted, “I wish she didn’t intervene so much in everything I do. I feel like the decisions I made aren’t even mine.” He rarely talked like this back then. Actually, you rarely interacted like this back then.

“How’s…” Hesitating, he swallowed before continuing his question, “How’s Toji’s family to you?” He asked softly as if the information he’ll get can break him even more. It probably would. “He’s not that close to them, so they don’t really know much about us. I’ve met them twice when we picked up Megumi. They treat us kindly.” You glanced at him, seeing him purse his lips.

“That’s good for you. You won’t have to deal with something like this.” Satoru wanted to say that he’ll cut ties with his mother to protect you; to be with you. But knowing you, you’ll probably feel like it’s your fault and he doesn’t want that.

He’s aware that his mother influenced the decisions he made in the past. Talking to someone about it made him realize how wrong he approached things with you and how easily he let himself be swayed by the instant gratification that he felt when he gave up on your relationship. 

None of it was worth it. 

—--------------------------------------------------

Three Days Ago

“I can’t do that,” Naomi spoke as she tried to lean away from Satoru’s mom. They met at a cafe near her neighborhood. She was supposed to ask for advice, but it quickly turned into plotting how to lock Satoru to her. “Listen, Y/N was able to keep Satoru with her because they have a child together.” She tapped a sharp nail on the table.

Naomi would be lying if she said that she didn’t think about using that to get more of his time. She admit that she thought of a way to make him have a kid with her, even trying to lie about her safe day to make him do it inside her. She didn’t think that hearing it come from someone else can sound so sick and twisted.

If Satoru doesn’t want the kid, what’s going to happen to me; to us?

“Why are you worried? I’ve been in the same situation and I’m telling you, Satoru kept his father for me.” Naomi’s eyebrows bumped together as she thought of how easy it was for her to say something like that. “You did that to his father?” She asked in disbelief, wanting nothing but to go but desperate enough to stay.

“Not intentionally. But had I not told him, his ex-wife wouldn’t have left us alone and he wouldn’t have stopped running after her.” She took a sip of her coffee, making her seem so chill with her story. Naomi knows all of it for Satoru once told her. She just thought that his mother really baby-trapped his dad to make him stay.

Can Naomi really do that?

“You won’t baby trap my son, you just let him come to you. Attract him like you did back then.” She nodded at Naomi. “I just wanted to help him, then. I didn’t try to seduce him.” She defended herself, “But you did drink with him a few times? Tell me you didn’t get seductive with him during those nights.” She dared, and Naomi looked down.

She remembers telling him how she liked his eyes and how he was too hot to bury himself in problems. She also remembers nonchalantly telling him how he caught her eye when she first saw him. She knows that she liked to think of him and Yui as her own little family even before they started dating and she remembers promising him that they can make it work.

Was Naomi really being just a friend to him then? Or was she already falling for him when she tried to become what he needs during those times?

“Y/N was confident that she’ll get Satoru back and that’s why she let her guard down. Now, if you want to be her so much then, be happy-go-lucky and watch him dump you.” She shook her head, and the words easily got Naomi thinking twice. She’s not trying to be like you. She’s better than you. 

She’s better for him than you.

“Why do you hate her so much?” Naomi suddenly asked, thinking out loud as she carefully thought about her decision. I mean, she didn’t really do anything to me.” If she’s going to think about it, other than the misunderstandings— which were probably caused by something offensive she did or said—you’re never antagonistic towards her.

“She ruined my son’s life. I shouldn’t have expected anything knowing how she got him, but she even had the nerve to try and make him do all the work. She’s probably just after the money..” No matter how hard she tried to recall, Naomi can’t remember him sighing over having Yui with you. “And you think she didn’t really do anything to you? You’re a bit naive.” Naomi’s forehead puckered at her statement.

“Didn’t you notice how she got a new man only now when it started looking like Satoru’s sure about you?” His mother might just be overthinking things but it didn’t help that the changes in her and Satoru’s relationship were almost perfectly timed with you getting a boyfriend. But what if it’s just Satoru? It could’ve been a coincidence, right?

Realizing how she was trying to convince herself in her mind, Naomi only felt worse. Maybe she really has to do something. After all, she swore to him that they can make it work. She’s not someone to just back down and give up on the one she loves when things get tough.

She’s better than you, and unlike you, she won’t run away; she’ll fight for their relationship. 

—------------------------------------------

Arriving home, Yui was already wide awake. “...then, Dad will be back to buy a new cake with Yui! How’s that?” Satoru kissed her cheek as he put her down on the couch. The little girl got upset that her dad has to go so soon. She just stood there wordlessly, leaning on the couch as she refused to look at Satoru.

“It’s okay, I’ll talk to her. She’s just grumpy because her nap was disturbed.” Walking towards the little girl, you sat down and put her on your lap. “Say bye, now.” You pushed the stray hairs away from her face and Satoru can’t help but admire how much he missed just seeing the two of you waiting for him on his couch.

Yui was younger then; much smaller in your arms. And he felt like a real husband coming home to his wife and child when you’d be there, watching TV when he got home from work. It’s been more than a year now, he just thinks he’s lucky enough to still be close to you again. 

You’re not as close as he wants you to be but this is more than enough for a beggar like him.

Leaning down to give your daughter a kiss, she turned away from him. “Yui, that’s not nice.” Her mouth was quivering but you know her too well. “You better go, they’re waiting for you there.” You looked at him but he only stared at you, sighing deeply. You felt like it was the hundredth time today. 

He looked so worn out; like he was just ready to drop as soon as he gets these things out of his tail. You wondered if you looked like this to him back then, too. Probably not this bad because you don’t have a meddlesome mother who keeps trying to put her finger in the pie. 

Before Satoru could answer, a knock on the door was heard. The door opened and a little boy holding his sippy cup stood by the doorway. Toji held the doorknob, staring at you and Satoru. What time is it? You thought. You remembered telling him that you’d be back by 4 in the afternoon. Yui was quick to jump from your lap.

“Dada! ‘Gumi! Dada! ‘Gumi!” She squealed at them and you could feel Satoru tense up beside you. She had been told by Toji about it, but hearing it from her friend isn’t helping at all. Megumi looked up at Satoru before looking at Yui. “Hey, hey, hey. What’s my name?” Toji bent down to pick her up when she kept stomping her feet and reaching up at him.

“Dada!” She laughed, before pointing at Megumi who was now taking his little bag from his father’s hand. “You’ll play later. Listen, tell your Dada what my name is.” Toji repeated just as Satoru regained his composure. “It’s alright,” He chuckled, “She probably thought you’re her Dada because you take care of her. And her mom.” You wanted to stop him, feeling bad that he had to pretend that he's cool about this.

Yui’s first word was ‘Dada’ and you could still remember how happy he was when he got her to say it before ‘Mama’. You can’t stand the thought of that memory becoming painful for him. “I gotta go, I’ll just pick her up again tomorrow.” He whispered to you, before nodding to Toji. “Bye, love. See you, tomorrow.” He waved at Yui, faking a smile before rushing to leave.

Yui waved back at him before wiggling out of Toji’s arms. She rushed to get her toys when he put her down. “She’s…she’s a kid” Biting your lip, you breathed out through your nose before walking to Toji and putting your arms around him. “Don’t run.” He called out to the children as giggled their way to Yui’s room. “I feel bad. I’m gonna talk to him later.” You mumbled.

Toji kissed your forehead before you pulled him to your room. “What’s going on?” He asked you, sitting on the bed. “Are you worried?” You asked, straddling him. “I am.” He answered, ignoring your actions. You looked up at him with a frown, remembering the misunderstanding that you had. “Why was he here?” 

“Look, he just had to drop me and Yui off because his mother was in his house—” He cut you off, leaning away a bit from you. You know that you didn’t tell him that you were going to Satoru’s house with Yui because you were still upset about your argument the other day and earlier this morning. 

“You told me the time but you can’t tell me where you were going?” Perplexity was clear on his face, “I didn’t want to agitate you further. I wouldn’t tell you right now if there’s another reason why I’m there except for Yui.” You tried to explain, feeling him put you beside him on the bed. “Y/N, that’s not the point.” He sighed, closing his eyes.

“Then, what is? I wasn’t planning to stay for long.” You kicked off your shoes, before turning to him. “Look, I’m sorry, ok? I just thought you were mad because of earlier.” You hugged his arm, putting your forehead on his shoulder. “And I was still upset.” Kicking his own shoes off, Toji pulled you on top of him as he leaned back on the headboard

“You have to tell me why you’re upset. It can’t be just the orange juice.” He spoke, grabbing your face as he kissed you. You moaned, breathing into him as you opened your mouth, letting his tongue find yours. His grunts sent vibrations to your core as you press yourself against him. 

“Did you lock the door?” He murmured, taking off your cardigan before putting his hands on your buttocks. “Yeah, don’t worry.” You quickly took off your shirt before going back to kissing him, completely forgetting about what he was asking from you. 

“As long as we can hear the laughs, they’re fine.” He chuckled, unclasping your bra before taking a nipple in his mouth. “Oh…” You moaned rubbing on his shoulders and tugging at the fabric of his sweater. His other fingers tweaked at your bud as he stared up at you, lustful eyes taking away your worries.

You really just don’t want to tell him that the mention of his wife is starting to trigger you.

Taking off the clothing, he flipped you on your back, removing your belt and jeans. His lips trailed kisses on your thighs as he go, massaging your calves before parting your legs, making you inhale sharply. “We can’t drag this long. Come here.” You giggled, ushering him to hover over you. “You know how they are…” You moaned when he started to kiss your neck.

His tongue and teeth bring pleasure and a bit of sting on your skin. “You just want it that much.” Winking at you, he discarded his remaining clothes before hovering over your womanhood. He smirked as he slid your underwear down, kissing your pearl. “Toji…” You whined, worried that this might get cut short if he doesn’t hurry.

“Alright, alright. I can’t just stick in. Let’s see…” Spreading your lips with two fingers, he eyed your heat with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly ajar, you can’t help but rock your hips against his hand, desperate for friction. Your eyes shut close when he put a finger in, slowly at first, before speeding up when he added a second one.

Toji panted, stroking his member when he felt you squeeze his digits. You’re dripping and he’s starting to ache. “Fuck.” He muttered as he leaned over to go for your lips, kissing you hard. He growled in your mouth when you whimpered as he rubbed on your pearl while massaging the sensitive spot inside you.

Pulling away when your legs started to tremble, Toji hissed as he tapped his head on the bundle of nerves before rubbing his length on your wet folds to lube himself up. “Toji, please.” You cupped your mounds, looking up at him. Seeing you like this drove him crazy, he had to hold back from just slamming himself into you. 

Grabbing a pillow and putting it under your hips, Toji prodded your entrance with his tip. He opened your legs wider, taking in the sight of you being stretched and his shaft disappearing slowly until he was fully in. Leaning on the bed with one hand, he grabbed your jaw with the other and silenced your moans with his kisses.

“You can’t let them hear you.” He murmured as he clenches his jaw, pressing his nose on your cheeks and kissing it. He was moving steadily inside of you and whispering words of praises to your ear, “You take me so well now.” He teased you, groaning whenever your hole fluttered around him.

You gasped when Toji pushes your legs to your chest, pounding deeper into you as he sings your name like you do to his. His thrusts were unrelenting, merciless as he slams himself into you. Soon enough, your walls were starting to convulse and your nails were clawing on his arm. 

“Come on. Let it go, hon.” You closed your eyes, feeling your chest throb at the nickname he used but the surges of pleasure that took over your senses flooded it out. Your hand covered your mouth, eyes rolling back as you writhed underneath him, coming undone with a cry of delight escaping your lips.

Your thighs trembled under his touch as he continued to rut into you, desperate for his high. “Oh fuck…Oh, Y/N.” Feeling your walls spasm and contract around him, he hurriedly pulled out and spilled his load on your womanhood. A sight to see, he thought as he watched your thighs still shaking from the pleasure.

“Wait a minute," Reaching over to your cabinet, Toji took the box of tissues before wiping you and himself clean. Hearing the jolly screams from the other room made you both laugh to yourself. "That's too quick. We gotta continue this later." He winked, throwing the tissues away before getting on the bed with you.

"Definitely." You let out a tired laugh as you put your head on his shoulder, sighing as the heavy feeling settled on top of your chest. Why did you have to remember him just from that word alone? Toji tilted your head up for a passionate kiss, blurring away the image of your ex inside your head.

“I have a request, though.” You looked down, avoiding his curious gaze. “Can you….can we not use ‘hon’?” You don’t know how weirdly you phrased the question until you looked at Toji to see him looking puzzled. “I mean…this is the first time you called me that and I’m, uh, not really comfortable with that. “

“Yeah, alright. But why?” Maybe you should’ve thought this through. You know Toji’s been getting moody whenever you two talk about anything concerning Satoru. You can’t really blame him after what happened that night. “I just… don’t feel it.” You lied, shrugging. “It’s not that bad, though. I could get used to it.” You smiled up at him, pecking his lips.

“Alright, I think I know.” He exhaled harshly, standing up from the bed to grab your clothes. Great. You just ruined the moment. “Are you mad?” You sat up, watching him get dressed. “No, I just wanna check on the kids.” He is mad. You clicked your tongue, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Babe, I just don’t want to–“ 

“Y/N. I said alright. I can’t do anything about it, anyway.” That doesn’t fix anything. “A lot of people use that, I just don’t get why you keep getting affected.” You stared at him, baffled. “It’s not like I want to do that. I can’t help my mind, there was a memory attached to that word.” 

You stood up to get a robe, “You know that it’s not easy for me, too. I told you.” You uttered, watching his back through your vanity mirror as he stood still. “Maybe if you stop relating everything to him, then it won’t be so hard.” With that, he left the room and you don’t know if you’re hurt or just shocked that he would say something like that to you.

Because he does that to you too. And you thought that he, of all people, should understand where you’re coming from. 

—————————————-

Satoru slid the door open with force, seeing Naomi flinch as she was startled by the sound. “Where’s mom?” He asked, breathing hard and eager to just put an end to the craziness she was doing. “I convinced her that we’ll be fine.” She walked to him, smiling as she put her arms around his neck. 

“We just need to catch up on each other, I feel like we’ve been too occupied these days.” She buried her face in the crook of his neck, kissing the skin as she rubbed his nape with a soft, delicate hand. “Yeah, we got a lot to talk about.” Satoru put a hand on the small of her back. “But first, you gotta tell me what that was about.”

“I just invited her over. I didn’t know Y/N would be here, sorry.” She sighed, before dragging him to the couch. Satoru kept thinking about the scene before he left your house. That was just a lot to take in, especially when he just fought with his mother. “I got no work tomorrow, we can stay up all night.” She giggled, taking off her cardigan.

“Let’s have a couple of drinks during dinner. I’ll cook for you.” She proposed, walking to the kitchen. Checking his phone, he found himself expecting a text from you. None. You don’t give a fuck about him. He sighed, It’s okay. As long as I can see themi, he thought. He just hoped that you’d ask how things went in his house. Or if he’s hurt about ‘Dada’ Toji. All the things he shouldn’t expect.

Guess, I’ll fucking die of jealousy, then. He clenched his teeth proceeding to his bedroom. “I’ll wash up.” He spoke to Naomi, “Go on, baby. I’ll be making dinner.” She answered, glancing his way. If she’s going to be honest, she wanted to skip the talks. The truth is Naomi’s afraid of what he’ll say if she confronts him with her real thoughts.

She could easily skip those steps, and get to her goal.

Goal? Naomi’s movements halt as she realized how she sounded. She’s not a bad person, she thought. Is she really gonna do this? “If you want to be her so much then, be happy-go-lucky and watch him dump you.” Naomi’s breath hitched when his mother’s words reverberated in her head.

She can’t lose him. Not now when they’re almost settling down. She’s not being a monster, she’s not baiting him. He’ll come to her on his own like he did before. She’s just going to make him see that she’s good for him. 

Dinner time came and she prepared it more than ordinary, hoping to ignite a light in him. It’s not usual for a woman to start something like this but Naomi’s different. As she said, she’ll fight for him. “Wow, is this a date?” Satoru chuckled sitting down in front of her seat. “I just wanted to rekindle. Your mom’s right, we’re just drifting away. I can’t stand that happening.”

Walking to her chair, Naomi stopped by him and kissed his cheek. Satoru on the other hand, can’t help but feel bad. He’s sure that nothing will change even if they do this. “Try. She’s a good person.” He quickly downed a drink, letting it take your voice away. Not because he doesn’t want to listen to you, but because he’s not sure if he can do it. 

The dinner went by quickly, and they were just discussing over drinks. He can’t even count how many he downed when she started talking about how you look more plump. “They might beat us in giving Yui a sibling.” She joked, laughing because she didn’t know what was in his head. “I doubt it, she wanna get married first.” He replied monotonously before opening up about his counseling sessions.

“Counselling?” She asked. The topic is incredibly close to what Satoru’s about to confess. She stared at her wide eyes as he nodded. “Were you having problems? Baby, why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you.” Her concern was sincere and it made him feel like a villain. “I wanted to be better for Yui.” And for Y/N. 

Clueless, she gave him a fond stare. “You’re a great father. Y/N knows that.”  There were times during the dinner when Satoru was so close to spitting out the truth to her but the effort she put in just to make that food on the table makes him feel remorseful. 

Satoru knows that it’s not right. But just for tonight, after all the months that he made him feel tranquil, he can spare her heart for a night or two. He didn’t want to hurt her, he didn’t want to break her heart. But staying would only mean that she’s never going to get what she wants and deserves.

“I’ll be brushing my teeth then, get to bed. The drink got to me.” He laughed, holding the chair as he stood up. “Thank you so much. For everything.” She came to hug him, kissing his lips as she murmured words of adoration to him. “Go ahead, you’re all red, can you walk?” She joked, before pushing him to go, “I’ll be with you in a few. I feel really sleepy now, too.” 

It’s been almost half an hour. Naomi checked on Satoru to find him sleeping soundly already. Not even her slam of the door woke him up. She stared at herself in the mirror, “I’m really gonna do this.” She exhaled, closing her eyes before going walking out of the bathroom. He’s still in the same position as before. 

Stepping closer, Naomi removed her silk robe, revealing her night dress. She clenched her fist tightly, before quickly releasing it just to try and get rid of the tension in her body. She sat on the bed, touching his chest and abs. Hearing him moan when she got to his lower part calmed her slightly. Just like we always do, she repeated in her head, kissing his skin.

“I’m sorry, Satoru…” She whispered one last time.

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#angst #gojo angst #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk #jjk x reader

[yawnderu]

Monster fucking, tentacles, non-con/rape, mind break, unrealistic sex (womb fucking), breeding, oviposition.

Monster!König is a patient man. He'd wait a century for you if it's necessary, yet much to his excitement, it only took a year for you to trust him enough to get into the water with him.

He was barely able to contain his excitement, tentacles aching to touch you as he watched you slowly get into the water, weary eyes looking at him while he fought the urge to pull you inside.

''I don't bite, prinzessin.'' He lifts his hands as a display of submission, showing you he's not going to harm you— and truly, he's not planning to harm you. He knows you want this as much as he does, always noticing your eyes linger on his tentacles. Surely it wasn't because he's a freak and you were still weirded out by him, no, that couldn't be. You're absolutely in love with him, he's sure of it.

You swim slowly towards him, looking back at the shore and almost regretting your life decisions as soon as you notice his eyes narrow, not wanting you to leave.

''Come closer.'' He pleads, not able to hide the longing and whine in his tone, trying his best not to show how much his body is quivering with pure need for you. You sigh softly, hesitantly swimming closer and closer until you're right in front of him, moving your legs around the water to keep floating.

You never noticed the size of him until he fully stands up, his feet planted firmly on the ground while you crane your neck up to look up at him, mouth slightly ajar as the feeling of dread courses through your veins, fight or flight triggered when you see the predatory look in his eyes.

His instincts get triggered the moment you try to swim away, thick tentacles wrapping around your body and keeping you in place even when you scream and kick, unable to do anything else other than thrash in his hold.

As much as he loves it, your screaming is making his ears hurt. One of his tentacles sneaks up, tracing your soft body slowly before it's plunged into your mouth, successfully pacifying you.

''Quiet.'' He hisses, not even noticing the warm tears running down your cheeks as you struggle to fit his thick tentacle into your mouth, saliva dripping down the corners of your pretty lips. His hands find place in the curve of your hips, keeping you in place while his bare cock rubs up and down your back, too excited to even think about your clothes until the rough material of your jeans hits his sensitive tip.

''Scheiße.'' He complains with a small grunt, strong tentacles already working on ripping the clothes off of your much smaller body, finally able to feel your bare skin. So soft, he realizes. Much softer than the rough skin of his hands holding you in place as his tentacles keep your legs open, some sneaking up to get a good feel at your tits as his cock starts rubbing up and down your folds, not bothering to prepare you before he's forcefully sinking into you.

König has no idea on how the human body works. He's wondering why you're screaming in pain, struggling as much as you can against his tentacles, yet still feeling so tight around his cock. Shouldn't this feel good for you? He's seen humans have sex, this is where you should be moaning and enjoying yourself, isn't it? He's utterly confused, yet he starts fucking into you faster, forcefully stretching you until you're able to take half of his meaty cock inside you.

''That's it— you're doing good, baby.'' He coos, the sweet words leaving his lips not matching his actions at all as he starts being more forceful, wanting to shove every single inch of his cock inside you while being stopped by your cervix.

It's not his fault he's a filthy virgin, is it? He just wants to make you feel good like you deserve, a reward for being such a brave girl and getting into the water with him. His tentacles move on their own, slowly teasing your puckered hole before forcefully going inside, giving you time to adjust to the double penetration before they're slipping in and out of you, their own lubrication helping ease into you.

He grunts from behind you as he struggles to make you take him deeper, your cunt slowly lubricating to minimize the damage being done by the intruder— yet to you, it's betraying you. A muffled scream comes out of your lips when you feel his cock break you from within, managing to invade your fertile womb, finally able to stuff you with all 10 inches of veiny, thick meat.

His tentacles move deeper down your throat, the suckers sticking in your throat and letting go with painful, loud pops, trying to reach as deep inside you as possible despite your gags attempting to push them back. The tentacle in your ass is smaller, yet just as needy, moving in and out of your tight, puckered hole.

“Gonna make you have my babies.” He whispers into your ear, a small whimper escaping his lips when he feels you tightening up around his hard cock, a dreadful pit in your stomach as he starts to fuck into you harder, more brutally, driven purely by the primal need to breed.

He stuffs your tight cunt full, the angry red tip of his cock slamming harder and harder into your womb, keeping it open for him before his arms tighten around your body, emptying his balls right into your fertile, needy cervix. You can feel the tiny embryos within you, thousands of eggs stretching you open and inflating your tummy. Your body betrays you as you can feel him thrusting into you, making sure every single egg stays within you, your cunt tightening up around him as he forces an orgasm out of you.

He slowly pulls out of you, making his tentacles slowly come out of your tired, fucked-out body, one of them cupping your wet cunt to make sure his eggs stay inside you.

You'll be the pretty mother of his unnatural abominations, and he knows you'll come around eventually, wrapping his tentacles around your tired body and dragging you deeper into the water, about to take you to your new forever home, a cave big enough to keep you safe and entertained under his obsessed eyes.

He's not entirely bad— he gathered cute and shiny things for you, building you a small nest so you can sleep peacefully. That makes up for all of it, doesn't it?

#könig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig mw2 #könig smut #könig x you #konig x reader #call of duty #konig cod #konig mw2 #cod mw2 #könig x fem reader #könig x y/n #cod mwii #mw2 smut #cod smut #konig smut #konig call of duty #cod konig #konig x you #konig #konig x female reader #konig x y/n #monster fucker #ovi kink #tw noncon #tentacles cw #monsterfucker

[risuola]

II — JUST HUSH — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN

Morning after the adventure with the dangerous stranger went just like you suspected - horribly, but that wasn't the worst that was waiting for you.

cw: angst, mafia!au, violence, few suggestive parts, insults, somewhat of an obsessive behaviors, reader discretion is advised — 4,3k words

a/n: officialy, this fic became a series - I wasn't expecting it to be so loved by you, readers and I can't thank you enough for the support to this story. also, there is a suggestion in my ask!box that I took a lot of inspiration for this chapter, so whoever gave the idea, thank you ❤️

series masterlist

Being soft was a trait that Sukuna never actively credited himself with. He never had any urge to do so, never needed to explore that side of him and in his profession, that would most likely lead to a certain death. Leading people of mafia required him to be harsh and rough, there was no time and place for any kindness and gentleness and honestly, if anybody asked him about it just yesterday, he would say with certainty that the softness in him died long time ago. Even with women, he was never exactly sensual – he’s rather the type to take what he needs, devour what he’s hungry for and leave. Aftercare wasn’t his strong suit, for some reason inside his mind taking care of someone made him weak. That was before you.

You met not even a day ago, you asked for his help and once you got his attention, he knew he was fucked. You were just so gorgeous, so innocent and the way your glossed with tears eyes looked into his, he felt the strangest warmth inside his chest – a need of protection? Something so foreign and absurd that wouldn’t usually cross his mind. But then, he had you in his house, he had you on top of him and he had you hungry. You were smart, surely you noticed the gun pinned to his belt, he wasn’t exactly discreet about it and yet, you chose to stay with him for the night. It had to be some kind of sinister plan of yours, Sukuna wondered.

Were you put in his way to sabotage him?

He had no idea, but once the day was bright and now close to evening, you were still sleeping in his bed, with your head resting atop of his chest and one of your legs thrown over his own. You were breathing slowly and peacefully, so blissfully unaware of how dangerous it is for you to be in the same house with him, not to mention lay tangled with him below the sheets. As he smoothed over your bare shoulder with his fingers, he was thinking about how the night went. The sex was great, the best he had in years. You were playing along with him, you wanted him as much as he wanted you and as you playfully fought for dominance with him, he could have sworn it was the sexiest thing he’s ever experienced. The way you tugged his hair, pushing him nose deep into your dripping core and keeping him there until he made you cum almost made him cum as well, just from the slight dominance you had on him. Even though he allowed this to happen. He could still recall the delicious sting of your nails scratching red marks onto his back and shoulders. Every time his name slipped over your tongue, his heart seemed to skip a beat.

Just like that, you’ve got him hooked, but even so, he should have kept his word. He should have made you get dressed, maybe, out of curtesy, allow you to take a shower so that his seed wouldn’t run down your legs and mess up the leather in his car. He should have driven you home as soon as he was finished with you, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not when you wrapped yourself around him, exhausted and already half-asleep, searching for the warmth of his body. Not when your weight on top of him felt like it was meant to lay there and especially not when your lips pressed few lazy kisses to the side of his neck before you dozed off.

You moved, rolling away from him and onto your back. You were waking up, he could tell by the sound of your quiet hums and the way your breath pattern changed from slow and calm to deep and more present. Sukuna flipped to his side, taking in the beauty of your features, now illuminated with the daylight. Your makeup kept up pretty well and even the smudged edges couldn’t take away your loveliness.

You hummed a little louder, groggily reaching up with your hands and arching your back like a cat in a long, sharp stretch. The covers slipped off your chest, exposing the pink of your nipples that now matched the many marks he had sucked onto your flesh just hours ago. Then your body relaxed, once again falling onto the mattress and a smile stretched your lips when Ryomen put his fingers against your skin. He brushed it ever so lightly along the shapes of your form, running along your collar bones, circling around the nipples and then, moving it down up and down your sternum.

“Good morning,” you purred against his lips when he reached to kiss you.

“More like good evening,” he replied, his voice quiet and calm as he moved his hand to the side of your body and pulled you flush against his chest. You hooked your leg onto his hip and wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your fingers into his hair.

“That late, huh?”

“That late.”

It was dangerous. The way you looked into his eyes, the relaxed stance your body, oblivious to the fact you were in the embrace of death personified – it was all too dangerous for Sukuna. It was too warm, too lovely, too innocent. He hated the vulnerability you subjected him to and the fact his head was filled with wishes to protect you? Fuck, it was bad. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t what he stood for in his life, it was against all of his morals. He had always been a man of few emotions, always cold and never letting anything or anyone get to him. He was calculating, feared by many and respected by few. He had risen through the ranks of the underworld by means that were often brutal and always efficient. Never, not once, he had let emotions to cloud his judgement or stand in the way of his goals. But then, you happened.

“The night…” You murmured softly, brushing the tip of your nose against his own. “I enjoyed it very much, ‘kuna—” And the nickname?!

“That’s enough,” he groaned, his tone coming in sharp and cold and it immediately brought you back to your senses. The wishful daze of bliss vanished in an instant, suddenly the tension came back to your shoulders. It was too much for Sukuna, he wanted to have a nice fuck that night and he already made a mistake by letting you stay in his bed when he was done with you. It was dangerous for you, it was dangerous for him and honestly, that lovey-dovey shit has never been his brand anyway. “Time for you to go.”

“What happened? You were so delicate just a moment ago—”

“Spare me the dumb romantic shit. I just wanted to fuck you, don’t get ahead of yourself and if you wish to keep that pretty head of yours then better get fucking going. I’ll have a driver take you back home.” He shut you down roughly and from that point, it all went quickly. You were gone in just few moments. You were gone, but the man felt no relief.

…

Few days passed by. Or was it weeks? Sukuna couldn’t tell as days began blurring their edges and all he could focus on was you. He couldn’t rid himself of the memory of you rushing in fear, just barely clothed as if he was about to hunt you down and shot you in the head if you didn’t leave his space. As if the one minute longer would cost you your life. Every time he closed his eyes or got into his bed he could see the picture of your face, the display of hurt and fright that stained the beautiful innocence in the moment he had told you to leave, discarding you as if you were a toy that he used and got bored of.

What was this feeling? He was asking himself every time he had watched you from afar. Was it guilt? He couldn’t tell, it felt foreign. For Ryomen it was an everyday thing to scare someone off, the blood of his enemies is what he’s ravishing in but you… You were far from being his enemy. And so he found himself more and more often observing you, each time being in the same place as you by accident. You made him fascinated, you made him fall into your trap. He found himself drawn to you, drawn to the light that you brought with you. He was missing you. Was that your plan all along? A revenge for how he had treated you that one night?

Your heart was pure, almost too pure for this world, Sukuna thought to himself every time he had a chance to see your everyday life. A waitress, serving tables in a small, local café, wearing the smile that he could tell was fake, and yet it charmed everyone and he couldn’t help but feel the odd sense of pride when he realized that the way your lips were curved the night you were together was utterly real. And then, he would see you on your days off, wearing cozy and comfy clothes, no makeup adorning your face as you were lost in the world of music in your headphones and whatever task you had in front of your face on the screen of your computer. You were too cute for your own good, with the little scrunch of your nose whenever you closed your tired eyes and the colorful stickers of cats and sunflowers that decorated the outside of your laptop. He’s seen you feeding some stray kittens with the salmon from your sandwich, petting their little heads as they were leaning into your touch and Sukuna would never imagine himself being jealous of the feline, but there he was, hidden behind the darkened windows in his car, wishing to be the one who’s head is in the warm and delicate embrace of your soft palm. Fleeting attraction, that’s what it had to be.

Sukuna had never thought of himself as a romantic, but there was something about you that did it for him. You were soft, gentle and vulnerable in a way that made him want to protect you, to shield you from the violent life he led. And yet, you were also strong, strong enough to face him, to challenge him and even make him laugh. It was a strange combination, and it made him feel things he had never felt before. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he was thinking of you more and more often. He had to be careful, though. He could tell that you were innocent, that you didn’t understand the world he lived in. If he let himself get to close, he might put you in danger and the thought of that, he couldn’t bear. He had a responsibility to keep you safe, even if it meant pushing you away. And for the first time in his life, he was scared. Scared that if he plays this whole thing wrong, he might lose you, even if he never truly had you. He was scared you’ll find out who he really was and scared of what that would do to you. He knew you noticed his gun, you had to notice it, but did you really had any idea what that meant?

For you, the time after meeting the stranger in the club was everything but easy. The hurt subsided quite rapidly, your heart wasn’t stupid enough to grow attached to a man you’d known for just few hours and deep down you knew that what you started by asking him for help had to end up somewhat similar to what happened. He wasn’t a prince from the fairy tale and you were no princess, it wasn’t a story of love, it was just sex and with that, you came to terms quite quickly. It was the fright that you couldn’t shake off your shoulders. Sukuna was a man that was keeping a gun attached to his belt, he had to be a gangster or something along these lines and considering the big, rounded and scared eyes of everyone in his proximity you’d only assume that his position in the world was at least threatening. It stayed in the back of your mind that he might have come for you, to hurt you or worse. He had shown you where he lives, after all, wasn’t that enough of a reason to erase someone from the world?

But nothing bad happened as your life went by, somehow it seemed as if it was even going smoother than it used to. The one very stubborn client, one that used to harass you every time he had a chance suddenly stopped showing in the café you work in; you even got a little raise from your boss, what despite being a bonus that you really needed, was also the most suspicious thing that happened to you lately. Your boss never gave raises. Life was good, until—

…

—you opened your eyes feeling pain. At first, you couldn’t tell what happened to you. Where were you? How did you get here? And why was everything so white?

Breathe in and out. Why did breathing hurt? And what was that beeping?

“You’re awake,” a voice made you turn your head to the side. And then, at the sight of a familiar face, it all flashed back.

It was at night, you were heading home from the meeting with your co-workers. An absurd celebration of something that you were quite certain didn’t even concerned you or your interns, but your boss required you all to be present anyways. It was tiring, to stay in the café after nearly ten hours shift, but thankfully during the event you were sitting and not actively working, so at least it was that much. Your legs hurt nonetheless, you felt fatigued after the entire week of intense shifts intertwined with classes, so when you were suddenly yanked by the wrist to the back, it wasn’t much of a surprise to you that you lost your balance.

“What do we have here, eh?” One of the men spoke and as you looked up, two faces were glaring at you with disgusting sense of superiority. “Oi, Naoya, is that the bitch you were talking about?”

“Bet it is,” the second man snorted. “She fits the description.”

Naoya? The name rang a bell so roughly and suddenly that your eyes widened in fear. It was the man you met in the club, the one that was all over you the second he met you. The one that you escaped only thanks to asking another stranger for help. But now, you couldn’t see him. Who stood above you was a man with long, silver hair and a face covered in linear scars. He was wearing a face of psychotic content, a grin so unsettling that it froze the blood inside your veins and just by the look of him you could tell he was dangerous. And then, the second one stood right next to him – his hair was pitch black and eyes probably green-ish, with little scar on the side of his lip that made itself apparent the moment you looked at him. He was insanely well-built, in a shirt that looked like one of those compression, sport-related attires.

“What do you want from me…?” You asked, your voice uncharacteristically quiet, as if the fear made your vocal cords clench. And you felt it, an unsettling feeling of upcoming death and it led to a chain of regret of every choice that you made that led you to this place and time. You should’ve taken a taxi. Or go a different route.

“Oh, we’re here to teach you a lesson,” the white-haired one responded as the other grinned like the devil himself. And then, they moved to the sides a little and right in the middle appeared the man that you do recognize. Naoya Zenin himself, with his face twisted in some kind of sick satisfaction as he grabbed your hair and yanked you up from the ground. Your back hit the concrete wall and his near proximity made you instantly tensed.

“I got you,” he grinned and there was violence intertwined into the expression his face bore. “I finally fucking got you.”

“Just leave me alone…” You demanded, your voice much weaker that you’d like it to be, much less constructive, not confident at all. You were frightened, to say the least, there was no way you could protect yourself from one man, but three? “Please.” As you begged, your own death flashed before your eyes. There was no way in hell you’re gonna survive this, that had to be it. The night was dark enough to cover the crime that was happening and even if there would be any bravery in you still left, nobody would help you. No one would be dumb enough to stand against the group that was about to abuse you.

“Oh, the little bitch is scared, huh?” Naoya laughed right into your face, his tongue leaving a wet trace along your throat and it filled you with enough disgust to wince. “Where’s your protector now, eh? Where’s your big daddy Sukuna?”

“What’s your problem?” The question slipped through your tongue in nothing more than a whisper. You couldn’t believe that you’re going to die because you asked a random man for help and that random man turned out to be a gang member or something. “I don’t have anything to do with him, I—”

“Of course, you don’t. I’m sure he fucked you and threw you out like a trash you are,” Zenin spit nothing but venom as his eyes were piercing holes into your skull. You could feel his hand sneaking underneath the fabric of your hoodie and your attempts on pushing him away did nothing to stop him from squeezing one of your breasts. “I bet you’re a good fuckthing tho.”

“Get your hands off of me,” you warned, your voice now rougher but still, too quiet to pose any threat. You wanted to nail his eyes out, to rip his heart out of his chest, but none of that you were able to do. Naoya laughed, once again, sounding like an asshole he was as he stepped back.

“Undress.” It was an order that he threw at you. Him, along with the other two, circled you as if predators would circle their prey and you felt small below the weight of their eyes.

“No.”

The moment you denied, the sharp pain sent you to the ground. He hit you, one of them, right in the face, with the top of his hand. The harsh contact of his knuckles and your cheekbone snatched you off your feet.

“You heard the order. Behave, slut.” The dark haired one was speaking calmly, but there was a certain coldness in his tone. The nonchalance that froze your insides.

“No…” You whispered, desperate to keep your dignity intact before you die. Immediately they showed you why hoping for it was foolish, as the series of kicks enveloped you in the cage of pain and suffering. You hid your head inside your arms, a helpless try to protect it from the heavy boots that not once held back before making contact with your fragile frame. You remember the sound of their voices, the feeling of their fists connecting again and again with your body.

“So fucking stupid,” someone laughed at you and you were far from sure and way too scared to check it yourself, but you could have sworn that somebody spit at you. “Don’t you understand? Nobody will save you now, no one cares about a bitch like you. I’d say it last time. Undress.”

“N-no…”, you sniffled, hugging your head tightly as if bracing yourself for another salve of hurt. But it didn’t come, no hit was aimed at your curled on the ground body. Instead, you heard the pained whines from not too far away, you heard the sounds of a battle and was it the sound of bones being broken? You couldn’t tell, it felt surreal, was that it? Was that how you’re gonna die? Because surely no one in their right mind would step into action, risking being killed themselves for you.

“Hey, I’ll take you to the hospital,” that voice. You knew that. You heard it for such a short time in your life and yet you’d recognize it everywhere. The low, slightly husky tone that you remembered as one that was enough to turn you on just by the sound of it. Now it was accompanying the very gentle arms that scooped you off the floor. Then, you dared to open your eyes.

…

“Ryomen?” Your voice felt weak, your throat hoarse from the dryness but that didn’t stop you from speaking. The more information got into your brain, the easier it got to understand what was the place you woke up in.

A hospital. You woke up in the hospital bed, surrounded by monitors and machines. Your body bruised and battered, ached with each breath you tried to take. Your head was still foggy and your muscles stiff, you had a pounding headache that only got worse as the memories of the night before came flooding back to you. You were lucky. So incredibly lucky to be alive. And yet again, Sukuna saved you. Then you probably passed out.

“You’re awake,” he sounded soft. How odd. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m… why are you here?”

“I had to check if you’re alright. And also I’m gonna take you home, but needed to wait until you’re awake and doctors can give you the last checkup.” He explained it matter-of-factly and it only got you more confused than you were just a second ago.

“That… doesn’t exactly answer my question…?”

“It will do for now. I’ll bring the doctor.”

Sukuna left the room sooner than you had a chance to ask anything else. He felt as if the weight was taken off his shoulders the very second you opened your eyes and recognized him. The last hours were an agony, he stayed near your bed for the entire time and though there was nothing that was threatening your life anymore, he couldn’t help but feel so awfully guilty. The foreign feeling of it made him realize that he was fucked up good, you had poisoned him with emotions that he already forgot about, the useless display of something that he considered a weakness for the better of his life. As he was watching your fragile frame, though covered with white, clean sheets he felt the rage boiling inside his veins because he knew. He saw the damage on your body, the bruises that painted your soft skin in dark, purple-ish blotches, the patch of scratches on your side – in place where your naked hip met the ground. And your cheek… there still was a red spot on top of your cheekbone, the one Sukuna assumed was also a result of a hit and it angered him even more because if he has noticed it before, he would for sure kill those imitations of a men and not only leave them in a mush.

Sukuna felt a certain sense of responsibility due to what happened to you. It wasn’t your fault, per se, that when you were looking for help in that club when you first met him, you had the misfortune to pick a persona like him and frankly, if Sukuna would know back then that Naoya will come for you later to get his revenge, he would kill him right then and there. The more he thought about it, the more he was realizing that he would kill anyone if it was to keep you safe.

“Ready to go home?” Ryomen asked, assisting you in pulling your bruised arms through the sleeves of a hoodie he had brought you. A clean one, way too big on your frame but comfortable at that, lined with plush so that it won’t irritate your injured skin.

“I think so…?” Your reply was confused, it was unsure and still slightly underlined with fear. There was a reason to it, last time you saw the man that was now trying to help you, he threatened to rid you of your head. “Ryomen, I don’t understand—”

“Just hush,” he cut you, gently swooping you off the edge of the bed and you settled in the safety of his muscular arms, leaning your head against his shoulder, next to his neck. “I was told you still should rest so let me take you home. Alright? Alright.”

There was no point in arguing, you couldn’t do much whilst in his arms even if you tried and it was naïve, you thought, but there was a sense of protection tied tightly to the way he was keeping you close. You felt as if any danger couldn’t reach you when his hands were wrapped around you. He was dangerous, that much you knew, and yet there was a gentleness in a way he was holding you near his chest, near the place where his heart beats in a regular, calm rhythm. Fact is, you didn’t want to run away from him, though you should. And so, you leaned into him, nuzzling your head into the dip between his neck and shoulder and as you breathed in his scent, the musky note of his cologne and tobacco, you felt at ease.

» PART THREE

taglist: @yihona-san06 , @tiredscavengerskeleton , @son4aras , @vixorell , @cecesharktales , @isleqt , @thickmacandcheese

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #ryomen #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna smut #sukuna mafia boss #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna smut

[hoshifighting]

Synopsis: Once inseparable childhood friends, their bond takes an unexpected turn when you start dating in middle school. Jeonghan's behavior becomes increasingly erratic, transforming him from a supportive friend to a constant source of annoyance. Now, in college, the tables turn, but Jeonghan remains a delightful pain in the ass as old flames are rekindled in the midst of playful banter and undeniable attraction.

Word Count: 6.6k

Soccer Player! Reader, Soccer Player! Jeonghan - Enemies to Lovers

Warnings: smut, reader get pissed asf and beat Jeonghan's ass, unprotected sex, chocking, hair pulling, mentions of violence and aggression, oral (f. receiving), clit stimulation, finger sucking and etc.

In the sprawling grounds of your childhood, Jeonghan and you were inseparable. You spent endless afternoons kicking a worn-out soccer ball around, dreaming of the day you'd play together on the same team. You'd laugh, plan silly pranks, and talk about everything under the sun. But things changed when you started dating someone in middle school.

It was innocent, a fluttering crush that led to hand-holding and stolen glances. It wasn't meant to come between Jeonghan and you, but it did. Suddenly, his jokes turned sharper, the shoulder bumps felt like intentional jabs, and he even started bending the rules during games at frat parties. It felt like he was retaliating for your decision, and you couldn't understand why.

Confused and hurt by the sudden change, you distanced yourself from Jeonghan, and the friendship that had weathered the storms of childhood slowly faded away. The once inseparable duo became strangers, and you never got a chance to ask him what went wrong.

Years later, in the hallowed halls of college, your paths crossed again. Both of you were now dedicated athletes, pursuing your passion for soccer at the collegiate level. Your common friends couldn't help but notice the peculiar dynamic between you and Jeonghan. They often questioned why he treated you the way he did.

The setting sun cast long shadows across the soccer field as you and your friends left the practice session, laughter and banter filling the air. The atmosphere was light, and the camaraderie among teammates was palpable. Little did you know, the calm before the storm was just around the corner.

As you approached the locker room, still basking in the post-practice glow, you suddenly stumbled over someone's soccer cleats. Before you could hit the ground, Seungkwan, one of Jeonghan's friends, swiftly caught you, preventing a potential fall. Confused, you looked around and noticed Jeonghan standing nearby, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

The exchange didn't go unnoticed by your friends and Jeonghan's group. They exchanged glances, the air growing thick with tension. Jeonghan's friends raised questioning eyebrows, seemingly as surprised as your friends.

"Hey, Y/N, you okay?" Seungkwan asked, concern evident in his eyes.

"Yeah, thanks to you," you replied, shooting a pointed look at Jeonghan, who was pretending to be innocent.

Your friends and Jeonghan's friends exchanged puzzled glances, sensing an underlying tension. "What's going on here?" one of your friends asked, breaking the awkward silence.

Before you could respond, another friend chimed in, "And why did Jeonghan just let you stumble like that? Is he okay?"

Jeonghan's friends looked at him, awaiting an explanation. Your friends, on the other hand, turned to you, expecting some clarification.

You took a deep breath, trying to contain your frustration. "I have no idea what's going on with Jeonghan," you said, shooting him a piercing glare. "But it's clear he's up to something, and I'm not in the mood for his games."

Jeonghan feigned innocence, a playful smile still on his face. "Games? Who, me? Nah, I was just standing here minding my own business," he said, shrugging.

Your jaw clenched as you fought the urge to respond. Instead, you turned away, leaving your friends behind, both groups noting the storm brewing within you. The air was thick with tension as you walked away, the unspoken question lingering in the minds of your friends and Jeonghan's group.

The locker room buzzed with excitement as you and your friends prepared for Soonyoung's party. The air was thick with hairspray and the lingering scent of sweat from the day's soccer practice. You sat on the bench, applying moisturizer to your tired legs, the cool cream a welcome relief after a rigorous workout. The dress you had chosen for the evening hung on the nearby hook, and you adjusted its hem, ensuring it fell just right.

As you meticulously prepared for the night ahead, your mind wandered back to Jeonghan's recent antics. A frown creased your forehead, and you let out an exasperated sigh. "I can't believe he pulled that stunt again. What's his problem?" you muttered, your frustration evident in your voice.

Your friend, sitting beside you, glanced up from her own makeup routine. "Jeonghan? What did he do now?" she asked, concern etching her features.

You rolled your eyes, recounting the incident with Seungkwan catching you and Jeonghan's apparent amusement. "He's just being his usual self—playing silly games and trying to get under my skin. It's like he's on a mission to annoy me today," you grumbled, the irritation evident in your tone.

Your friend sighed, setting down her makeup to focus on you. "You know how he is. Don't let him ruin your mood. It's Soonyoung's party, and we're here to have fun," she said, offering you a reassuring smile.

You nodded, appreciating her attempt to calm your brewing frustration. "I know, I know. But sometimes, he just gets on my nerves, and I can't figure out why he's like that."

With a soft chuckle, your friend gently pulled you into a side hug. "Maybe he's just Jeonghan, being Jeonghan. You can't change that, but you can control how you react. Don't let him ruin your night. We're here to dance, laugh, and enjoy. Let's focus on that, okay?"

She then turned her attention to your hair, expertly weaving a simple yet elegant hairstyle. The rhythmic motion of her hands and the comforting presence of your friend helped ease the tension that had built up. You took a deep breath, deciding to take her advice to heart.

"You're right. Let's forget about Jeonghan and have an amazing night," you said, forcing a smile as you shifted your focus back to the excitement of the party ahead.

Soonyoung's house pulsated with music and laughter as you and your friends embraced the vibrant atmosphere of the party. The beats compelled everyone to move, and you found yourself in the center of the makeshift dance floor, swaying to the rhythm with carefree abandon.

Soonyoung, the life of the party, approached you with a mischievous grin. "Y/N, you've got some moves! Are you sure you're not a secret dance prodigy?" he exclaimed, playfully exaggerating his surprise.

You laughed, the music drowning out your response, but you playfully mimed a humble acknowledgment. The two of you danced together for a while, and Soonyoung's infectious energy was contagious, adding to the carefree spirit of the night.

As you grooved to the music, Mingyu, a tall and athletic figure from the men's soccer team, made his way through the crowd towards you. He leaned in to talk in your ear, his voice barely audible over the booming music. "Hey, about the games next week, we're having joint practice sessions for both teams. You'll need to be close to me for some of the drills, okay?" he explained, his warm breath tickling your ear.

You nodded in agreement, giving him a thumbs up to signal that you understood the plan for the upcoming practices. Mingyu smiled and excused himself, disappearing back into the crowd.

Just as you turned to share the news with your friends, one of them pulled you aside, her expression serious. "Y/N, you might want to look behind you. Jeonghan looks like he's ready to burn holes into your soul with that glare of his," she warned, a hint of concern in her voice.

Confused, you glanced over your shoulder to find Jeonghan, indeed, shooting daggers at you with intense eyes. He was sipping from a red cup, his expression unreadable. You turned back to your friend, your face betraying a mix of surprise and discomfort.

"Why is he looking at me like that?" you asked, feeling a flush of embarrassment.

"He's probably not thrilled about you getting cozy with Mingyu," your friend speculated, a knowing look in her eyes.

You sighed, feeling the weight of Jeonghan's gaze on you. "Well, it's not like Mingyu and I were dancing intimately or anything. It was just about the soccer practice."

Before you could dwell on it further, Soonyoung grabbed a microphone, calling everyone's attention. "Alright, party people! Who's up for a game? Gather 'round!"

The game of "Musical Chairs" had escalated to a nail-biting climax, leaving only one chair in the center of the circle. To your surprise and dismay, Jeonghan emerged as your final opponent. The tension between you two had already been palpable, and now it seemed like the universe had conspired to put you in a face-off.

As the music stopped, you quickly claimed the last chair, ready to breathe a sigh of relief. However, before you could fully settle, Jeonghan decided to add a twist. In a daring move, he pulled the chair out from under you, leaving you flat on the floor, much to the shock of the onlookers.

A collective gasp echoed through the room, and someone in the background shouted, "He cheated!" Of course he cheated. 

Without a second thought, you sprang to your feet, rage burning in your eyes. The buzz of screams around you became a distant hum as you leaped onto Jeonghan, wrapping your arms around his neck.

The chaotic scene was cut short as people rushed to pull you away from Jeonghan, attempting to defuse the situation. You found yourself sitting on a nearby couch, your face flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. Jeonghan, on the other hand, sat in the opposite corner, arms crossed, with noticeable nail marks on his neck courtesy of your unbridled fury.

The room fell into an uneasy silence, punctuated only by the hushed whispers and concerned glances exchanged between partygoers. Your friends shot you apologetic looks, clearly sensing the tension in the air.

After a brief pause, Jeonghan's friends took charge, ushering him to a separate corner for what seemed like a stern talking-to. Meanwhile, your friends approached you, expressions a mix of concern and amusement.

"Y/N, are you okay?" one of your friends asked, patting you on the back.

You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the embarrassment. "I'm fine. It's just... Jeonghan being Jeonghan," you replied, attempting to downplay the situation.

Amidst the residual tension and the discomfort of being in the same room as Jeonghan after the chaotic "Musical Chairs" incident, you felt a wave of frustration wash over you. Without a second thought, you began searching for your handbag and jacket, determined to leave.

"I've had enough," you muttered to yourself, the irritation evident in your voice.

Your friends and some of Jeonghan's friends noticed your abrupt movement and stepped in, attempting to halt your exit.

"Y/N, wait, don't go!" one of your friends called out, concern etched on her face.

Another friend from Jeonghan's group chimed in, "Come on, it was just a silly game. Don't let that ruin your night."

But you were resolute, determined to distance yourself from the escalating tension. "I can't deal with this anymore. Every time it's the same, and I'm done," you stated firmly, your tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Jeonghan's friends tried to reason with you. "He didn't mean for things to get out of hand. You know how he is," one of them pleaded, attempting to diffuse the situation.

You paused, torn between frustration and understanding. "I get it, but there's a limit. This has gone too far," you replied, your voice tinged with exasperation.

Jeonghan, sensing the gravity of the situation, looked conflicted from across the room, his expression a mix of regret and concern. He made a move as if to say something, but hesitated, unsure how to approach the situation.

But you had made up your mind. Ignoring the attempts to convince you otherwise, you swiftly grabbed your belongings and made for the door, your determination unwavering. The echoes of your friends' and Jeonghan's friends' voices calling after you faded as you stepped out into the cool night air.

The sound of the door closing behind you marked the end of a tumultuous night at Soonyoung's party. Outside, you took a deep breath, the weight of the evening slowly lifting as you prepared to leave the tensions of the night behind and head home. Sometimes, setting boundaries and taking a step back was necessary, even if it meant leaving a party prematurely.

The week had been a blur of training sessions and preparations for the upcoming game, leaving you with little time to dwell on the events of Soonyoung's party. As you walked through the university garden on a crisp Monday morning, the weight of the week's responsibilities pressed upon you. Your mind was focused on the game ahead, and you had almost forgotten about the tension with Jeonghan.

However, as you approached the entrance to your classroom, you were met with an unexpected sight. Jeonghan and his friends stood there, creating an invisible barrier between you and the classroom door. The air thickened with anticipation as you hesitated, catching your breath.

Not wanting to escalate the situation, you offered a curt nod and a short greeting, "Hi," before attempting to walk past them into the classroom.

Seungcheol, one of Jeonghan's friends, took a step forward. "Wait, Y/N. There's something Jeonghan needs to say," he said, his tone commanding.

You sighed, crossing your arms, signaling your readiness to listen but maintaining a defensive posture. The empty classroom echoed with silence as you waited.

Seungcheol turned to Jeonghan, his grip on Jeonghan's uniform firm. "Go on, say what you need to say," he instructed.

Jeonghan hesitated, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. After a moment, he managed to mumble, "Sorry, Y/N."

You squinted your eyes, incredulous. "Is that really coming from you?" you asked, your voice skeptical.

Seungcheol's grip tightened for a moment, a silent reminder to Jeonghan to speak sincerely. Lowering his head with a visible sense of regret, Jeonghan repeated, "I'm really sorry about that," his apology sounding more genuine this time.

You raised an eyebrow but remained silent, waiting to see if there was anything more to his apology.

After an awkward pause, Jeonghan bowed, a gesture of contrition, before hastily leaving the classroom. The door swung shut behind him, Seungcheol lingered for a moment, meeting your gaze with a nod of acknowledgement. Without saying a word, he followed Jeonghan out of the classroom, leaving you to contemplate the unexpected encounter.

The soccer field buzzed with the energy of the morning practice as both the men's and women's teams warmed up for the upcoming game. You were in the midst of your pre-game routine, jogging and stretching alongside your teammates, anticipation building for the match ahead.

The whistle blew, signaling the start of the game, and both teams began weaving across the field in a display of skill and strategy. The intensity of the game kept you focused until an unexpected jolt of pain shot through the posterior part of your thigh, causing you to crumple to the ground in discomfort.

The trainer quickly halted the game, and you closed your eyes tightly, trying to endure the sharp pain. Soon, you felt hands carefully stretching your leg to alleviate the cramp. Assuming it was one of your teammates, you didn't pay much attention until you opened your eyes and realized it wasn't just anyone—it was Jeonghan.

He held your feet against his shoulder, applying gentle pressure to help ease the pain. The memories of your childhood flashed before your eyes—times when you had done the same for him. You brushed the nostalgia away, focusing on the present moment.

The trainer instructed you to move to the bench for further treatment, and you hopped on one foot, trying to shake off the discomfort. Sitting on the bench, frustration etched across your face, you couldn't help but feel unsatisfied with your performance being cut short by the unexpected cramp.

Jeonghan approached, concern evident in his eyes. "Are you okay, Y/N?" he asked, his voice carrying a genuine worry.

You shot him a quick glance, a mix of irritation and pain on your face. "I'll be fine. Just a cramp. It's nothing," you replied tersely, trying to downplay the situation.

Jeonghan hovered, unsure of how to respond. "If there's anything I can do—"

You cut him off, your tone a blend of frustration and dismissal. "I've got it, Jeonghan. Just focus on the game."

The sun blazed overhead as you continued your solo training on the field, determined to push yourself beyond the limits. The intensity of the game had faded into the background, and now it was just you, the field, and the relentless heat. Water bottles scattered around you, evidence of the effort you were putting in.

Lost in your focus, you were suddenly brought back to reality when you noticed Jeonghan sitting on the bench nearby, his arms crossed. It was then that you realized you had lost track of time.

"How long have you been sitting there?" you asked, wiping sweat from your forehead.

Jeonghan remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the field. "Long enough to know it's not safe to train under this sun," he finally responded.

You scoffed, dismissing his concern. "I need to train, Jeonghan. I can't afford to slack off."

He sighed, uncrossing his arms. "And that's exactly why you ended up with a cramp earlier. Your muscles are exhausted."

The tension between you and Jeonghan simmered as you prepared to leave the field, feeling a mixture of frustration and reluctance to accept his advice. As you rose from the bench, ready to head towards the locker rooms, Jeonghan's hand reached out, gently gripping your wrist.

"You've always been stubborn," he remarked, his voice soft yet firm.

You turned to face him, a flash of irritation crossing your features. "It's not like you care anyway," you retorted, trying to pull your wrist from his grasp.

You pulled your wrist from his grip, shooting him a sharp look. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Jeonghan sighed, choosing his words carefully. "I remember when we were kids, you were always determined and driven. But now, it's like your determination has turned into something else—an edge, a sharpness."

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Well, maybe if you hadn't been such a pain in the ass all these years, I wouldn't need an edge to deal with you."

As Jeonghan mumbled something about Eunwoo— your ex-boyfriend from middle school — ruining everything, your curiosity was piqued. You turned your ear towards him, a puzzled expression on your face. "Who? Eunwoo? What does he have to do with anything?"

Jeonghan's eyes widened, a brief moment of panic crossing his face. He stammered, attempting to deny any connection, but the truth was written all over his expression. It was clear – he was jealous of Eunwoo.

Your mind clicked into place, connecting the dots. "Wait a minute... are you telling me you've been jealous of Eunwoo?"

Jeonghan hesitated, avoiding eye contact, but the admission lingered in the air. A mix of surprise and realization played on your features. "Seriously? You've been jealous this whole time?"

He shifted uncomfortably, searching for words. "It's not like that! I just... I've known you for so long, and seeing you with someone else—"

You cut him off, unable to contain a laugh. "Jeonghan, are you kidding me? You've been acting like this because of jealousy?"

He looked a bit sheepish but attempted to maintain his composure. "It's not just jealousy. It's just... complicated."

You couldn't help but shake your head in disbelief. "Complicated? Jeonghan, you've been playing games, making jokes, and being a pain in the ass, all because of some weird, complicated jealousy thing?"

The revelation that Jeonghan's years of stubborn behavior were rooted in jealousy over a mere one-month affair left you both astonished and perplexed. As you walked towards the locker rooms, the air hung heavy with unspoken thoughts, and you couldn't hold back from addressing the situation.

"You mean to tell me that all these years of your antics and stubbornness were because of a one-month affair?" you asked, disbelief coloring your tone.

Jeonghan avoided direct eye contact, a sheepish expression on his face. "I didn't plan for things to get this complicated. It just happened."

You shook your head in amazement. "Jeonghan, we've been friends for so long. Why didn't you just talk to me about it? You let this jealousy fester for years over something so trivial?"

"I thought if I acted like it didn't bother me, it would go away. Clearly, that didn't work." He points, creating a silence between you two.

You couldn't help but notice the faint marks on his skin from the intense encounter during the party. The remnants of your frustration were etched in the form of nail marks, a visual reminder of the heated exchange.

After a moment of contemplation, you decided to address the elephant in the room. "Hey, Jeonghan, about the party... I'm sorry about, you know, beating your ass," you said, gesturing towards the marks on his neck. "But, honestly, you kind of deserved it."

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, "No need to apologize, Y/N. I probably deserved it."

You raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in your voice, "Deserved it? What's that supposed to mean?"

Jeonghan sighed, admitting, "Well, maybe I've been a bit of a pain lately, and I needed a wake-up call."

You crossed your arms, still not fully convinced, "So, you intentionally provoked me?"

He nodded, a sheepish smile playing on his lips, "Yeah, but not because I enjoy getting my ass kicked. I just... I didn't know how else to deal with everything, and it all got a bit out of hand."

You let out a small huff, "Well, next time, try talking instead of provoking. It might save you some nail marks."

Jeonghan chuckled at your apology, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Don't worry about it, Y/N. Nail marks come with the territory, and I can handle a bit of rough play."

You shot him a skeptical look, "You're awfully calm about having marks on your neck."

He winked, a playful smirk on his face, "Actually, I find it kind of sexy. Adds a bit of excitement, you know?"

You rolled your eyes, not entirely convinced by his nonchalant attitude. "Well, I'm not planning on making a habit out of beating you up."

Jeonghan laughed, "Fair enough, but if you ever feel the need to express your frustrations again, just aim for my back next time. It might be a bit more enjoyable for both of us."

Your eyes widened at his bold suggestion, "Are you serious?"

He shrugged, a playful glint still in his eyes, "Why not? It's all in good fun."

You shook your head, a mix of amusement and disbelief. "You're impossible, Jeonghan."

[...]

The week leading up to the game passed in a surprisingly calm manner. Jeonghan's demeanor had shifted, and the lingering tension that once colored your interactions had dissipated. His jokes were now more lighthearted, and both of your groups could finally enjoy lunch without the threat of any neck-ripping incidents.

As the day of the game approached, nervous anticipation settled in. The stakes were high, and the pressure was palpable. On the field, the air crackled with a mix of excitement and tension as the moment of truth drew near.

The referee's whistle pierced the air, signaling the start of the game. You, alongside your teammates, advanced with determination. The match was tight, a fierce competition between your team and the opposing university. The score remained deadlocked, each side vying for that crucial goal that could tip the scales in their favor.

With only moments left before the game would potentially go into penalties, an opportunity presented itself. The goalkeeper seemed far, and the ball rolled towards you. It was your chance. With a burst of adrenaline, you sprinted towards the goal, the crowd's cheers blending into a distant roar.

In that critical moment, you kicked the ball with precision, the satisfying thud echoing through the stadium as it sank into the net. The eruption of cheers from the crowd was deafening, and your teammates rushed to embrace you.

Amidst the chaos of celebrating students flooding onto the field, your friends engulfed you in hugs, relishing the triumph, but your gaze was drawn towards Jeonghan. His seated figure and the small punches he absentmindedly threw into the air betrayed a different, quieter emotion. It was a momentary glimpse behind the facade he often wore, revealing a side of him that wasn't always apparent.

The day had been long and exhausting, and the comfort of a warm bath had been a much-needed respite. As the echo of the doorbell reached your ears, you wrapped yourself in a robe, moving swiftly to answer it.

Opening the door just a crack, you peeked out, surprised to find Jeonghan standing in the hallway. "Jeonghan?" you questioned, a hint of curiosity in your voice.

He met your gaze with a warm smile. "Hey, I wanted to congratulate you," he said, a sense of genuine admiration in his tone.

Pausing for a moment, you hesitated before deciding to let him in. Opening the door wider, you gestured for him to step inside your dorm room. Jeonghan entered, a look of determination on his face.

Without warning, he wrapped his arms around you in an unexpected hug, catching you off guard. The embrace was surprisingly comforting, the warmth of his presence a stark contrast to the hectic day.

"Thanks, Y/N," he murmured, his voice soft.

For a moment, you were taken aback by the sudden intimacy. His gesture felt sincere, and as he pulled away, there was a vulnerability in his eyes that you hadn't seen before.

"Um, thanks," you managed, feeling a mixture of surprise and gratitude.

Jeonghan smiled warmly, the tension of the day momentarily forgotten. "I just wanted to say it in person. You did great."

"I did, didn't I?" you teased with a playful grin, breaking the silence that lingered in your room.

Jeonghan scoffed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, you did."

An air of uncertainty settled between you as he fidgeted, his hands finding refuge in his pockets. The room was charged with unspoken tension, both of you seemingly on the edge of something unexplored.

After a few moments of hesitation, Jeonghan let out a sigh, a resigned "fuck it" escaping his lips. In an instant, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a surprising and passionate kiss. The shock sent a jolt through your body, but you found yourself kissing him back with equal fervor.

He pressed you against the wall, the sudden intensity of the moment causing your heart to race. Your fingers tangled in his long hair, a tangible connection forming between you.

In the charged atmosphere of the moment, Jeonghan's hands gripped your waist, his thumbs tracing teasing circles on the towel cloth of your robe. With a mischievous grin, he released your lower lip with a soft pop, his gaze lingering on your face.

As he pressed his body against yours, the knot of your robe seemed to have mysteriously loosened, creating a seductive cleavage that exposed the curves of your bust. The fabric hung on the brink of revealing more, almost exposing your nipple.

You whispered, your voice barely audible, "Jeonghan."

Jeonghan leaned back, his eyes widening as he saw your robe almost undone. A gulp escaped him, and he hurriedly moved to close the cloth around you. Your hands intercepted his, holding them in place. There was a shared understanding in that moment—a tacit agreement that things had shifted, and there was no turning back.

With a steady gaze, you opened the robe, exposing your body. Jeonghan's breath caught, his hands instinctively gripping the sides of the robe tightly. The room seemed to buzz with an electric tension, and the air felt charged with anticipation.

His hands found their way to your hips, fingers pinching the fabric of your robe. The sensation sent shivers down your spine as his touch left an indelible mark on the uncharted territory of your connection.

As the intimate moment continued, Jeonghan led you to sit on the couch. His hands caressing the skin under your belly button, opening you by your inner thighs, until he reaches your pussy. He licks his fingers, starting to circle your clit, you muffle a moan, closing your eyes when you feel two of his fingers entering you. 

"Jeonghannie…" 

A soft moan escaped your lips, and in the hushed aftermath, you whispered, "Jeonghannie."

He hummed in response, the sound a tender acknowledgment of the nickname that had slipped past your lips. There was an unspoken intimacy in the way he absorbed the words, a resonance that spoke of shared history and a connection that had weathered the complexities of time.

"I missed that," Jeonghan admitted, his mouth sucking your clit, and you jolted, moving your hips, almost riding his fingers. 

 His request hung in the air, and you felt a flutter of anticipation as Jeonghan, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, asked, "Can you do that again?"

A coy smile played on your lips as you willingly obliged. "Jeonghannie," you moaned, the sound escaping your lips with an undeniable fervor.

His fingers curled, and your body tenses while you throw your head back, a satisfied smile forming on his face. The room was filled with a charged energy, and the intimacy between you deepened with each shared moment. "Again," he requested, the playful challenge evident in his eyes.

Your voice, laced with desire, echoed the familiar nickname once more, "Ah! Jeonghannie."

A low chuckle escaped him as he reveled in the sound, flicking your bud with his tongue. Your pussy was tight around his fingers, and he knows you are almost there. So he stops. As you whimpered, a question escaped your lips, "You won't be stubborn here too, right?" The anticipation in your voice held a hint of vulnerability.

Jeonghan, his jaw clenched and a firm grip in your hair, made you look into his intense gaze. There was a magnetic intensity in his eyes that seemed to hold the weight of unspoken desires.

He teased, his voice low and husky, "What if I want you to beg, hmm?"

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, the raw desire and dominance in his tone leaving you breathless. A breathy uncertainty laced your voice as you echoed, "B-beg?"

Jeonghan's grip on your hair tightened slightly, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "That's right. Beg for it," he murmured, his tone a blend of command and temptation.

The air between you crackled with a newfound intensity, and as you hesitated, his fingers entwined in your hair, he repeated, "Beg, Y/N."

Your heartbeat quickened, and the room seemed to close in around you. The vulnerability of the moment hung in the air, and in a hushed voice, you uttered the words he sought, "Please, Jeonghan." Your pussy clenching around nothing.

"Please what, Y/N?" he inquired, his eyes locked onto yours, a playful smirk playing on his lips.

"Please let me cum on your mouth Jeonghannie..." You cried out, and fuck, you felt like a pathetic slut. 

He smiles, sucking your cunt, licking everywhere, your moans escaping your lips, an uncontrollable melody of pleasure. Sensing an opportunity to play, Jeonghan added his own voice to the symphony, a low and enticing moan that mirrored the rhythm of your own.

As you continued to moan, he intensified his efforts, each sound a deliberate echo of your pleasure. His moans grew louder, the teasing quality evident in every sultry note.

Your legs lock him, and he makes you cum messily on his tongue. Your feel dizzy, how the fuck you are trembling on your couch, with robe opened, and Jeonghan giving you a mind-blowing oral? 

Jeonghan, with a deliberate and firm movement, turned you around, positioning you with your arms gripping the backrest of the couch. Your body arched, your ass lifted in the air, the vulnerability and anticipation palpable in the intimate moment.

Your cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation, and you avoided turning to look at him. The heat emanating from Jeonghan behind you was palpable, and you rested your face on the sofa, trying to conceal the flush that colored your features.

Suddenly, his hands moved swiftly, gripping your hair with a rough intensity. He pulled you closer, and your back pressed against his chest. Jeonghan pressed his lips against yours. However, your mouth fell open, and you couldn't reciprocate the kiss as you felt him pushing his thick cock inside.

The pace quickened, Jeonghan's hips moving surprisingly fast, each thrust making your body bounce with every stroke. The sounds that escaped your lips were a mix of pleasure and restraint. Unsure if the walls could contain the intensity, you bit your lips almost to the point of tasting blood, attempting to stifle the moans that threatened to escape.

Jeonghan, disapproving of your attempt to silence yourself, held the back of your neck. He pressed your face against the pillowed backrest of the couch, a commanding tone accompanying his touch. "Don't hold back your moans," he ordered, his voice a low, authoritative whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

The sounds of skin slapping echoed in the background, but Jeonghan's insistence on hearing your unrestrained pleasure added a new layer of pleasure sent directly to your cunt. 

Stuttering, you managed to express your concern, "J-Jeonghan, people can listen," the words slipping between the gasps and moans.

He, however, seemed indifferent. "I don't give a fuck," he asserted, the determination in his voice unwavering.

You insisted, "Anyone can pass in the hall and hear us."

In response, he scoffed, dismissing the concern. Without a word, he pushed two fingers into your mouth, silencing you momentarily as you involuntarily drooled around them.

Jeonghan's blunt question hung in the air, "Good for you now, slut?" Your response came in the form of a satisfied mumble, an unspoken acknowledgment of the shared pleasure.

He, however, expressed a sentiment of unfairness, his voice carrying a mix of teasing and genuine desire. "That's unfair, Y/N. I've waited so long to hear you like this, and now you're impeding me from enjoying it?"

He pushes you to lay your back on the couch, pushing his dick inside of you again. His hands are now choking you slightly. Your response was a breathless laugh, a mixture of amusement and pleasure. "I can't help it if you're too impatient, Jeonghan."

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through your shared space. "Impatient? After all this time? I've been waiting for this, and now you're telling me I have to be patient?" A teasing glint sparkled in his eyes as he continued, "You're a tease, Y/N. Making me wait, and now you're holding back."

You playfully rolled your eyes, even though his words resonated with a certain truth. "Maybe I enjoy making you wait. Builds anticipation, doesn't it?"

Jeonghan grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Well, I hope you're ready to make up for lost time." 

The rhythm intensified, and the force of Jeonghan's hips against you became more pronounced. The friction started to border on discomfort, and you shut your eyes tightly, desperate to channel all the overwhelming pleasure into a refuge against screaming aloud. Your hands found their way to his back, nails digging into his skin and trailing all the way down.

Your moans and gasps mingled in the air, both of you caught in the throes of pleasure. The sheer intensity of the moment made coherent conversation impossible, reducing any attempts to words that stuttered out in fragmented pleasure.

His mouth fell open, and he called your name with a voice that echoed the shared ecstasy. "Y/N," he stammered, the syllables breaking with the weight of desire, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure that engulfed both of you.

The intensity of the moment pushed you to repeat the action, your nails running harder and more unconsciously down his back. A gasp escaped him, filling the room as his climax overtook him, making his body shiver with the force of pleasure.

After the peak of pleasure subsided, he took a moment to catch his breath. "This is a dirty game you played on me," he remarked, a hint of sulking in his voice. The unexpected intensity of the encounter, spurred by the simple action of your nails on his back, had left him vulnerable and surprised.

A playful smirk played on your lips as you teased him, "Oh, you're really into scratching your skin, aren't you?"

Jeonghan's sulky expression transformed into a sheepish grin. "Well, maybe a little. You seem to have a talent for it."

As the playful banter continued, Jeonghan's hand ventured down your body, his touch purposeful circling your clit. The exploration was gentle yet intent, working to build the anticipation and pleasure that would lead you to orgasm. 

A connection of affection and determination passed between you as you held his forearm, your eyes locked onto his. The look in his eyes conveyed a desire for you to cum,, the unspoken connection between you and Jeonghan deepening with each breath.

His hands worked faster, and your breath quickened in response. You avoided looking at him, lost in the overwhelming sensations. A hiss escaped him as you clenched around him, your back arching from the couch, the sensation of your nipples brushing against his skin adding an extra layer of intensity. In the throes of passion, you called him "Jeonghannie," the nickname slipping past your lips in a breathless plea.

"I'm going to—" you began, the words catching in your throat as pleasure surged through you.

Jeonghan, with a husky urgency, filled the silence, "Cum for me, my beautiful whore…" You reaching a crescendo as he urged you to surrender to the pleasure. "Cream on my cock, my beautiful Y/N. Let go for me."

You held onto his forearm tighter, gasping for air and calling out his name every time more louder. His response was a husky affirmation, "Yes, baby, just like that. Mhmm, that's my little slut."

The orgasm finally hit you, a powerful wave of pleasure surging through your body as you creamed hard around him. The room filled with the unmistakable sounds of your release, a symphony of ecstasy echoing in the air. Jeonghan, caressing your hair, tried to soothe you from the intensity of the climax.

"Fuck, I'll have to take another bath," you said, and Jeonghan chuckled, his voice laced with a satisfied tone, "Well, at least it will be with me."

He held you gently, leading the way to clean up. The shared bath became a tender moment, the water soothing and cleansing as you both relaxed.

Afterward, you lay on your bed, and Jeonghan sat on the edge. You called him, and he turned his head, carefully facing you. "What's up?"

You took a moment before admitting, "I saw the scratches on your back in the bath, but I was embarrassed to tell you."

He got up and turned his back to the mirror on your wardrobe, trying to take a peek at what you did. A smile spread across his face as he examined the red lines on the milky skin of his back. "Looks like you had fun back there," he teased, turning to face you. 

Jeonghan, playfully teasing, grinned and said, "How am I going to explain this to my friends in the locker room?"

You joined in the playful banter, suggesting, "Maybe avoid changing around them this week."

He chuckled and offered a humorous solution, "I can always say I got into a fight with a cat."

Both of you burst into laughter, the shared joke creating a light and carefree atmosphere.

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[jinkiezzsstuff]

The Dog And The Deer

Alastor x werewolf/dog GNreader

ever since i found out alastor was attacked by dogs i awaited for a fic with a dog reader but alas i never found one, honestly love the idea so i splurged one out but im not sure im the happiest with it. also thank you to anyone who read my lucifer x reader it’s pretty wild like that many ppl liked it made my butthole pucker tbh. i hope y’all enjoy this kiss kiss

warnings: no YN, no alluding to or mentioning of bodytype/hairtype/skin colour or gender, morally grey reader(maybe?), descriptions of blood and animal death (nothing gorey yuck), cannibalism on alastors part, swearing, slowburnish, i think that’s all?

words: 4K

Alastor’s eye twitched watching as the mutt demon trotted around the hotels foyer with Angel. There was no worse stench then that of a dog. One of the few traumatic memories Alastor still holds close is the smell of wet dog along with memories of their jaws and teeth. Although, no one would ever catch him showing how uncomfortable your presence made him, that’d take away the image he’s created and potrayed throughout his nearly hundred years of being dead.

Yet as much as he hated every bit of your demonic form, he couldn’t help the slight tinge of desire to get closer to you, strange as it may be. You’re charasmatic and expressive, you let your ears and tail display the emotions you felt freely without holding back like he did. You got along with everyone at the hotel perfectly and you seemed to have a head on your shoulders; helping Charlie out with problems she couldn’t solve, and quipping back with fast remarks to insults thrown at you. Hell, you even got on Husks good side, a literal cat, a dogs worst enemy and vice versa.

Luckily no patron paid mind to the fact he always took the furthest spot from you at the table, or how his eyes never met yours in conversation, or that he never directly talked to you, more at you before walking off. No, nobody cares about his distance between himself and you, and if they did they knew better than to bring it up to him. Therefore he worried not about confronting you- that was up until this point. Watching with an unamused look, eyes lidded as he followed your figure waving bye to Angel and turning to him. You practically skipped your way over to him with a smile and he fought make the urge to get up and zip away.

You on the other hand, despite knowing his carnage good and well, respected the demon for the formalities he carried, as well as the little mortality he did have. It didn’t go unnoticed by you how much he seemingly hated you, you weren’t dense, but Charlie explained that Alastor was a generally private and mysterious overlord so you chalked it up to being his ‘thing’ paid no mind.

You will admit though, you were hoping that after a month or so of attending the hotel, he’d open up to your presence a little more. He wouldn’t. But! He still fed you when he cooked, woke you when you slept in, and kept you out of harms way as he did the other attendees, as well as escort you out whenever others were busy.

After a gossip session with Angel last night, you two concluded it was time to get to the bottom of the situation. Angel immediately went to the assumption he either wanted to fuck, or kill you, which you hoped he didn’t want to kill you, thankfully you moved along the topic by distracting Angel with other topics. You knew Angel out of anyone would be able to sniff out the fact you had the hots for the radio deer.

But that conversation is what landed you beside the radio demon on the couch, who statically crackled as you did so. “Hello Alastor, you look relaxed today, how’s everything going.” The deers eye twitched, a slight fog of black lingered up and around the couch, his smile strained and you could hear the sound of staticy disembodied voices in and around you.

You weren’t stupid to the fact he didn’t like you for sure now, but you were stupid enough to pretend you didn’t know. So you stayed smiling nervously up at him, but he simply stared forward. And after a few short moments he seemed to perk up ever so slightly snapping up and out of it. “Well my dear, i am doing just fantastic! Today has been one of leisure, i very rarely get to take those!” He exclaimed broadcaster voice in full effect, the smog and stactic zipped away as he composed himself entirely. You relaxed just slightly feeling just a little more welcomed. “That’s good to hear Al, I’m glad you get some time to yourself. You’ve done a lot with your magic for this place. Must be draining.” Alastor hummed daring to take a peak down at you.

You seemed to have all guards down around him, your canines poked out of your mouth slightly, quietly your tail thumped happily beside you, which he admittedly found to be quite adorable and idiotic why aren’t you more alert?. “You’re too kind darling, too kind. But I must go, I have to prepare my dinner.” Standing Alastor dusted himself off and swung his arms behind him, but before he could get anywhere you stood with him, your tail rapidly wagging. “Could i help?” Alastor’s ear twitched at that, his escape plan wasn’t very effective.

“Well, my dear, it’d be a little difficult, i like my meat, fresh.” His voice dropped an octave static taking over his voice, this time though he properly looked down at you, meeting your gaze. It sickened him that the first thing that crossed his mind was how enchanting your eyes are. You were a breed of demon he’d rather not associate with, and any lovey dovey emotion weakened his demonic image, and scrambled his mind with confusing emotions he’d rather not confront.

“Don’t worry Al, Vaggie told me you eat deer, i don’t really see the big deal about that one. Maybe i can try some.. oh do you hunt? I can totally catch it for you, this dog body is built for that!” You said hurriedly standing alongside him hands clasped in front of you almost like you were begging. Never would you say so, but were desperate to spend some time with him, it was stressful walking on eggshells all the time just for him.

Alastor’s eyebrows rose, he was decently pleased with the idea of a hunting partner, shrugging his shoulders he agreed, humming indifferently at you. “Follow me sweetheart, there are no deer out here!” Grinning wildely you skipped behind him, finally getting the attention you so desperately wanted from him. You mostly hid the longing to have the same attention the others got, while he literally pulled the others toward him, he kept metaphorically pushing you away. He never pulled you into song and dance, touched you, talked to you, hell half the time he wouldn’t even look at you as if you were a ghost. You also tried to interrogate everyone on his behaviour without appearing to obsessed, luckily the only one who seemed to notice this frantic questioning was Husk.

Husk was a good guy though, and took it with ease promising to not mention the sudden interest in Alastor and his behaviour. He did warn you to ‘watch your ass’ diggin into business that wasn’t your own. Outside of Husk mentioning that Alastor’s never been a fan of animals, a one off thing you barely paid mind to, the investigation left you empty handed. Nobody at the hotel really understood Alastor’s behaviour. Or Alastor in general, but you held hope they would.

“Here we are my dear,” Alastor exclamiend theatrically swinging his door open and leading you inside to the woody section of his room with his microphone positioned in the middle of your back. The furthest he’s ever gone to touch you, in truth. Focusing your eyes ahead you didn’t look around much, not wanting to be rude and stare at everything, though it was hard. You wanted to see how he liked things in his personal space, when he was all alone.

“Is this like a personal farm or something, are you like a breeder or…” You questioned quirking a brow up at him. Alastor chuckled quietly you could hear an audience echoing his laugh around the two of you. “No no, this!” He exclaimed stretching his arms out toward the greenery. “Is a glimpse straight into the forest, where the freshest of meats frolic.” Alastor looked back at you wicked grin on his face. “Ready to show me what you’re capable of, pup?”

Swinging his microphone around he then stuck it out toward the wilderness. With what he said you felt the need to impress him, so with smile and a nod you took off. After fifteen minutes, you returned. Alastor stood impatiently picking at his claws bored expression gracing his face, although his smile still present. Considering you planned to show off, you came back full demonic form on display and with two deer; one deer, sagged dead between your teeth, the other in your grasp.

Once Alastor decided to look up from his nails, he was petrified, and fought against the urge to flee like the prey he was reborn as. Alastor wouldn’t ever admit his fear directly but it was palpable, you could even smell it on him thanks to the fact you had the heightened ability to smell the stress hormones. To Alastors defence you appeared more dog than sinner at this point, a twisted mutation of what could’ve been a dog or possibly werewolf, he wasn’t sure and honestly neither were you. What he was sure of was that it made him nauseous looking at you and angry that you had that effect on him by simple existing.

Coming back to yourself, and what you’d typically look like, you dropped the deer at his feet, but he only stared at you, particularly your blood covered teeth. “Alastor what’s wrong? Uh, whatever happens in the forest stays in the forest?” You quickly say, panicking at such a display, you didn’t know him that well and visually you couldn’t entirely pick up on what he was thinking but you could pick up the way his blood rushed quicker through his veines, and how he clenched his teeth tighter than ever. “Nothing.” He snapped out fast as ever, but what shocked you most is the radio static in his voice left completely, you actually heard him.

Stepping an inch closer, testing the waters, you slowly reach out to his arm. Your gaze was locked on his eyes to try and find anything that could have given you the slightest hint at whether or not to pull away, but you found none. So crossing your fingers, metaphorically, you closed the small gap between you and him, very gently placing your hand on his arm.

Quietly you spoke. “I’m not sure whats wrong Al, but i know something’s up, and I know how you like to protect your image so don’t worry, i swear on my after life i won’t tell a soul about this.” Much to his dismay, he gave into your words of comfort, his posture falling slightly. Alastor’s smile never fell, but other parts of him did, like his ears and finally his eyes. He looked down to you and you could finally tell something was seriously fucked with how easily he let himself give in. “I was attacked by dogs before i died, is all, my dear. Ahhh, sometimes those pesky human emotions still remain present.“

“Is that why you avoided me?” You questioned putting the pieces together. With more confidence you moved a step closer to him, and he made no moves to stop you. “Yes, I apologize for my rude display, I’m not fond of dogs.” You inwardly scoffed. Dog, you were like, more of a werewolf anyways which was way cooler. “Well Alastor, what better way to overcome discomfort than befriending a dog! Than you’ll never have to worry about any dog sinner getting the upper hand!” Somewhere in that sentence was comedy gold, apparently, considering Alastor erupted into insane laughter which just had you awkwardly standing there watching as he vibrated joyfully.

Once his cackling was finished, he wiped away a non existent tear and bent toward you. With a pinch of your cheek Alastor gently shook your head side to side. “How adorable you are, someone getting the upper hand? On me? Ahah! Now i see why you and Husker get along so well! Silly little house pets, assuming such silly things.” You gently pushed his hand away a little upset by the quick switch in demeanour, not that he’s not been like this before, he was known for this. “Well, whatever, i meant well. Anyyhoo, does that mean we’re cool now?”

Al cocked his head to the side, repeating ‘cool’ to himself as if he didn’t know the word before shaking his head, and confirming that you two were indeed ‘cool now’. “Perhaps we should hunt together more often my dear, after all i’ve never had someone bend over and swear secrecy in return for nothing. You must be dying for a little bit of private time with me.” Gaping at him you watched as he turned his back and started a walking away. Snapping his fingers, the deer disappeared from your feet and reappeared on a table, big enough for two.

“Yeah right, I’d never that’s, uh, barf y’know.” You muttered collecting yourself, still a little ashamed he had seen right through you. “Come, dig in! After all this was your catch my little pet, it’d be so unkind to leave you without. Dogs do enjoy that, correct? Rewards.” Now sat across from him, your mouth fell in a flat line, ears drawn down. “Yeah, sure, just as much as deers like to be eaten huh? Why don’t you hop up on the table deer, doggy wants their reward.” You shot back, possibly a bit flirtatiously as you’d truly prefer him being your treat, your reward.

A record scratch sounded out from him, effectively causing a silence to wash over the two of you. You coughed, and a meek smile graced your face as you eyed the meat in front of you, then back to his eyes. Alastor seemed to be in quiet contemplation as he looked at you, his smile once open, now closed but his eyes relaxed signalling that he wasn’t going to launch himself over the table and maim you for what you said.

You both sat watching each other seeing as he made no movement or noise. The silence made your worried mind wander, while other parts of your mind foolishly wondered if what you said sparked any particular interests in him.

After all, you believed it was pretty hard to miss the double entendre there especially when you purred it out to him like a horn dog succubus. Sitting up straighter in an attempt to conceal your anxieties, you met Alastors calm gaze that never strayed from your form. It was like he could see straight into your mind and your heart kicked up with the worry of ‘could he read fucking minds.’

“So! I’ve seen you and the spider have gotten along swimmingly. Tell me, why does such a shy thing like yourself prance around with such a fellow? One that draws unruly attention wherever he goes?” Alastor finally broke the silence materializing a fork and a knife to dig into his meat. You were relieved the tension finally broke and you could move past the comment, for now. However bringing up the topic of Angel seemed quite calculated on his part.

“Angels amazing, especially when you get to know him Al. Plus, he knows what it’s like to be pushed around by men, he never puts me in the position where i’m the target of some sleazes desire.” You rant turning the dead deer towards you, not bothering to ask for cutlery as you planned to dig in- claws and teeth. “Hm, i suppose that could be true my dear, but i can’t help but be skeptical seeing how utterly opposite the two of you are.” You waved a hand lazily, ripping into the deers leg and nawshing down.

“I don’t even know what you mean by that.” Alastors eyebrows quirked at your rude gesture, that being speaking with your mouth full, but he wasn’t too surprised as he reminded himself you were just a dog. “It’s as clear as a sunny day pup! You are so unsure of yourself! Oh my, I just love watching you shrink into yourself at the sight of any demon outside the hotel. One of my favourite past times is walking around the ring with you as you shake like a chihuahua that lost its mother!” You watched mouth full as he threw his head back and laughed, again, quite theatrically.

The laugh track sounded with him as he did so, his ears perked happily, hand draped over his heart. You couldn’t be mad at what he said when he just looked so, adorably goofy. Obviously you hated being in hell and near other sinners, they were gross the majority of them wanted to harm you in some way, so you weren’t bothered at all that he could tell you were afraid of them, but you were curious as to why he decided to steer the conversation this way.

“Well Alastor, we’re all afraid of something. Oh and by the way- even though you only come to watch me cower- i still enjoy whenever we go out together.” You admit switching between inspecting your meat and looking at Alastor as he ate his. Alastor covered up the shock that he felt by taking a few silent bites. Briefly he reflected on what there was to like, after all he barely spoke to you during the outtings, he always walked fast and slightly ahead of you so you were always racing to catch up, he couldn’t find a single reason you’d enjoy being with him.

“Do you?” He finally inquired his head falling to the side, looking up to him you nodded, swallowing before speaking this time. “Yeah, truthfully it’s entertaining to me too. Watching everyone around us move away from you, whisper n gossip about you, all while you pay no mind with your head up, unbothered. Oh! And your radio too, I am not sure if you notice, but when you hum your radio just hums out with you, it’s nice especially since i’m too afriad to put in a headset. Oh and of course, you make me feel safe.”

Leaning forward slightly, Alastor placed his silverware down and placed his elbows on the table. Behind him his tail subconsciously wagged, pleased to hear that you had felt safe with him. It was an unusual emotion that sparked through his chest and he wasn’t entirely comfortable with it. It made him feel like he was loosing control to another sinner, and that was a big no no.

Alas, Alastors curiousity outweighed his distaste for the emotion soaring through him and instead decided to full speed ahead into it. Perhaps because that felt like he in some way gained control back by choosing to breathe into it rather than run. “I’m pleased to hear that my dear,” Alastor started slowly, dragging out his words buying him time for what to say next. “Had I known before i could’ve arranged something. You do know i have quite the little posse of shadows on my side, correct?”

Alastors eyes were lidded watching you lean back in your seat ever so slightly, shadows beginning to wisp around the floor by your feet. “I didn’t think you’d do that for me Al.” Resting his head on his hand, he ‘tsked’ at you. “And why is that my dear.” The expression on your face read pretty clearly as ‘are you kidding me’ but Alastor wanted to hear you speak. “To me it was pretty obvious, up until this point I had asssumed you hated me!”

The frustrated exclamation really didn’t bother him, instead he kissed his teeth, rolled his eyes and shook his finger like a scolding mother. “Silly pup, you know what they say about assuming, it makes an ass out of you and me.” Rolling your eyes right back you cracked a smile at him. It seemed to you he was trying to banter along with you, which was progress, and made your stomach flip. “Oh shush Alastor, you absolutely loathed my presence up until you could find a use for me.”

Alastor hummed flatly, checking out his claws. “Not true.” Snapping his fingers the deer left untouched disappeared leaving the table barren. Alastor stood and undid his coat walking away leaving you hanging. Shocked by his sudden reaction, you stood the table vanishing behinfd you. “What do you mean Al?” He hung up his jacket, now left only in his vest you standing behind in patiently. Once hung up Alastor turned to you and smiled mischievously down at you. Before you could question him, he grabbed your face under your chin and grasping your cheeks.

“Oh my silly little dog, you think your form was the only thing pushing me away. No,” Gawking up at him as he invaded your space for the first time in your months of being here, he stood inches away from you forcing your head up to look into his eyes. “I admit, i’ve been dealing with more unpleasant emotions than fear. You’re quite divine, you know.”

You felt like you were melting and your heart raced in your chest and the radio demon looked down at you with a softness you’d never seen in his eyes before. His hand released your cheeks and instead he started gently caressing you, loving the way you shivered just at his touch. “You’re hard to put up with, my dear. Allow me to confess you’ve been the the most difficult sinner to rid from my mind. Silly as that may be. I have ridiculous thoughts about what you may think of me, how i look, my golly i even ponder whether you desire my presence when i push you away. I also wonder what other undeserving sinners have your attention, have their paws on you.”

As he spoke he inched closer to your face, his hand cupping your cheek while the other ghosted up your arm, barely making contact with your flesh. You felt weak at the knees as he hovered above you with suck a coy smile, his red eyes looking straight into your own. “Al..” You trailed off almost warningly, but all he did was hum lazily bringing his face even closer to yours.

You could smell his fragrance one you couldn’t fully pinpoint as one thing. Definitely a cologne of sorts, mixed with blood, deer guts, and the faintest scent of pine. “Tell me sweetheart,” Alastor started dragging his hand from your cheek to gently grabbing your neck, making you swallow. “Do you hold the same interest in me as i do you?”

He almost sounded as if he was mocking you when he asked, but you were too lost in a haze from this fucked up foreplay he had going on to notice. Instead you nodded just barely moving your head but you knew he’d see it. “Of course you do, good little pup. I noticed.” Alastor hissed out darkly before pulling you by your neck flush against his body.

You squeaked but it was hushed by Alastors lips connecting with your own. You hands flew up to his chest grabbing on for dear life. In fairness the kiss was pretty soft, but you were so shocked your body reacted a bit harshly. He kept his smile against your lips, you matching his pace unashamed at how quick you kissed him back. His right hand kept on your throat controlling how close you were to him while his other hand danced up to your head to push your lips closer to his.

Pulling away abruptly Alastor shot up straight suddenly holding you at a distance by both shoulders. Your body ragdolled to his command barely catching your footing as you were in a lovey dovey haze. “Perhaps that is enough for today! Don’t want to get carried away now! You deserve proper treatment from a gentlemen!” Broadcaster voice back in play, you winced as he tonned down his volume for quite awhile up until this point.

However your annoyance didn’t last seeing as Alastor actually wanted to go out with you, so instead you smiled up at him. “How kind of you Al, maybe we can have more deer?” Dusting yourself of invisible dirt, Alastors hands retreated behind his back. “Of course my deer sounds like a gas! But for tonight perhaps we should relax. I have to get to a meeting within the next few hours, but i thoroughly enjoyed our time today!”

Smiling at him as he lead you to his door this time his hand pressed gently against the small of your back. “I really enjoyed it too Al, especially the part when you kissed me that was my fave.” You teased watching as he looked away his ears tilting to the sides ever so slightly.

“Yes, well, i did as well. Now then! Carry on i must get appropriate, ta-ta!” He exclaimed pushing you out of his room and shutting the door behind you, and while you giddily ran off hyped to tell Angel about everything, Alastor collapsed against the door smile strained heart pounding in his chest, incredibly uncomfortable with how to deal with these emotions, but please at the same time with experiencing something he’d not felt before.

#alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor the radio demon #radio demon

[kittyhui]

♪ coming down - The Weeknd ♪

brother’s best friend! seungcheol x f!reader

cw: smut (minors DNI!!), pinv, unprotected sex (stay safe😁), seungcheol is buff, tbh this is really tame so dw, fluffy at the end

brothers best friend cheol x reader

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your brother’s friend, seungcheol, was hot. it was kind of hard to be subtle about his affect on you. the man sitting on your couch was so fucking hot and even though you’ve seen him basically every single day for the past four years, you can’t stop staring at him and his big bulky arms and wide shoulders as he talks to your brother, dokyeom.

“y/n” your brother calls out to you, breaking your thoughts, “me and cheol are heading to the gym now. we’ll grab food on the way back so text me what you want” you say your goodbyes to the boys as they head out and you go up to you room.

°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥☆°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥

“i feel like he’s getting hotter” you sigh through the phone to your friend “him and kyeom go to the gym like every day. his arms are practically bulging out of his shirts”

“he’s definitely doing it on purpose, y/n” she stated. you let out a scoff, denying her words “im telling you! he wants to get you in bed”

“i wish” you laugh, “but seriously if i see seungcheol in another tight shirt again i will suck him off till he sees the pearly gates-“

creak

your neck turns so fast you thought it would break and your eyes land on choi seungcheol, your brother’s best friend, and the man you were very vocally thirsting over. you hang up on your phone call, mouth still agape. “what- what are you doing here, seungcheol?”

“your brother, he uh he dropped me off just now so i can go shower before we ate… he’s picking up the food right now, that’s what i wanted to tell you….” you fought the urge to cry in embarrassment as you look at his face was bright red while he stands frozen in the doorway.

“im so sorry, cheol! i didnt mean to make you uncomfortable- fuck- lets just forget about this, please? im so sorry-“ he cuts your rambling off.

“if you felt this way, you shouldve just told me..” he hissed out. thats when you finally noticed his hands curled into tight fists, his clenched jaw, and the imprint pressed in his grey sweats. “fuck y/n, you could’ve had me for years.”

a shaky breath leaves your lips as you finally build up the strength to speak, “can i have now?” before you can regret your words, seungcheol’s mouth is on yours, hot and wet, pushing you flatter onto your mattress, “fu- cheol… want you so bad”

“we gotta be quick” he pants, in between kisses, “kyeom will be back soon-“ he barely sounds stressed as he grabs at your hips, grinding down painfully slow. you needed more than this.

“then stop teasing me, cheolie and fuck me stupid” you purr out to the man on top of you, slipping your fingers into his sweatpants, desperately trying to take them off. “needed you for so long, can’t wait any longer.”

“need to prep you, pretty baby” you groan at the pet name, getting more desperate if that was even possible. he pulls your shorts down, cursing at the glistening arousal of your cunt, “s-shit”

“cheol! just fuck me- i can take it. please” you sounded pathetic but who could blame you. the man in front of you was playing stupid games with you and you were about to slap the shit out of him. “unless you’re too scared, cheolie?”

he grunts, detaching from you to pull down his pants and boxers, exposing his cock.. fuck it wasn’t the longest but shit- it was thick. “fine. be a brat then.” your lips form an ‘oh’ shape, beginning to deny his words, when you feel his cock sink slowly into you “fu-fuck, so tight” his jaw clenched and his thick eyebrows furrow as he continues to fill you to the brim, pushing whines and cries out of you.

your brain was turning into mush as he started his hungry thrusts. your body burned at every touch he gave you, biting your lip to suppress the noises you made “cheolie- feel so good, need more-“ you can see the corners of his lips twitch hearing you whimpering under him. his breath feels ragged on your neck when he leans down to kiss and nip at you, pulling your hips into him making his cock fuck deeper and deeper. oh. “im , im going to cum! oh oh god…” your eyes go hazy, mouth falling wide, sobs being knocked out of you as seungcheol continues to fuck you through your orgasm.

“oh, you’re clenching around me so good, princess.. makes me wanna cum in you-shit” he knows he can’t, he shouldn’t but god does he want to. he unfortunately pulls out, leaving you squeaking at the loss of fullness. he strokes himself lazily, rutting against you, getting closer to his own release. looking you in the eye, he growls, he fucking growls your name, and you feel warm cum spurt onto your stomach. “god… you’re so pretty like this, princess. did so good.” he kisses you softly before falling softly besides you.

“you should get up, cheolie.. dokyeom will probably come back soon.” you giggle, sitting up to grab the shorts that came off earlier. “im gonna go clean up” before you can leave your room, he grabs your wrist.

“i really do like you, you know?” he looks at you with big, wide eyes, “i dont want this to be a one time thing or anything. let me take you out.. dinner? lunch? coffee?” all you do is lean into him and kiss his plump lips.

“sure i’d like that. let me get cleaned first and then we’ll talk details” he smiles wide at you, nodding and you smile back.

“hey!!” you both jump, hearing yells from downstairs; dokyeom “if you two are done up there, the food’s getting cold so hurry up!!”

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a/n: dazed magazine cheol has ruined me for any man. ik he fucks good

#seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #i want cheolie #heyyy cheol i need you #seungcheol fanfic #svt x reader #svt smut

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

pretty fixation, wicked temptation | b. blake

masterlist

summary: season six - one-hundred-and-twenty-five years in cryosleep made both you and bellamy crave each other’s touch, but you need a place to satisfy your urges without disruption. perhaps a new planet would do the trick. and what better way to heighten the anticipation than with a little challenge?

warnings: porn with plot, sexual crying??, teasing/taunting, mild gore, mild exhibitionism, murphy being a cockblock, mild size kink, mild bdsm, begging

note: this is the first one-shot/smut I’ve ever written so I kinda went overboard, but I promise it’s worth it in the end. you can imagine a different season of bellamy if you want (fuck you) but I personally think he’s extremely hot in season 6.

word count: 16.7k

“…I hope your lives there will be as happy as mine has been,” an aged Monty spoke on the monitor. “Be the good guys. May we meet again.”

You stared out the window of Eligius IV in awe, arms crossed over your chest whilst taking in the view of the planet you would soon call home. Plant Alpha. A place where, hopefully, everyone could find redemption. For you, it would be a place where you would find peace with your friends and family. And your boyfriend, Bellamy Blake.

“I know this is a lot to process,” Bellamy’s deep voice spoke to the group. “Take an hour, and then meet in the mess. We need to game this out.”

A few people in the room had a short dispute, but you tuned out their bickering, gaze locked on the view outside. Everyone began to disperse, leaving the room to gather their thoughts about what the future held for the last remnants of humanity. Everyone but you and Bellamy.

Your vision shifted from focusing on Planet Alpha to watching Bellamy walk towards you in the window’s reflection. He had changed drastically since the day you and the other Ark prisoners were sent to the ground. His body was broader, and more muscular due to the unrelenting battles he fought on Earth. His arms were bigger, stronger, and probably capable of carrying the weight of two people at once. And his hands, god, his hands—they were your ultimate weakness. They were much bigger compared to your own; his fingers were thicker and longer as well, and the things he could do with them… indescribable.

He now had a short, dark beard that circled his mouth and sparsely covered the sides of his jaw. You always loved the way it tickled your face whenever he kissed you and when it rubbed against your inner thighs whilst he went down on you.

What had changed the most was his mentality, which somehow made you fall even deeper in love with him. Bellamy Blake may have been twenty-three when you first met him, but he was then still just a boy. Now, he was a man.

“You okay?” he asked, his arm snaking around your waist as his towering frame stood beside you.

Leaning into his body, you both soaked in the rays of the two suns shining through the ship’s window.

“Just hoping we don’t make the same mistakes we did back on Earth,” you spoke. “There are a lot of people on this ship in need of a second chance.”

Bellamy chuckled. “Yeah. More like a fifth chance.”

You smiled, humming in agreement.

“This time will be different,” he continued, eyes narrowed at the planet in front of them. “We can’t keep making the same mistakes without learning from them. We won’t have bombs, or missiles, or war. I’ll make sure of it; if not for the last of humanity, then for you.”

You turned your head to look at him. Such a softie.

“I ever tell you how much I love you?” You reached one of your crossed arms across your torso and rested it on his which was cupping your waist.

In response, Bellamy’s hold tightened just a little bit more, causing your heart to fumble from the affectionate gesture. “On a few occasions.”

However short the one-hundred-and-twenty-five years in cryosleep felt to your mind, your body could feel the effects of lacking physical touch for such a long time. Bellamy’s touch. Apparently, he felt the exact same way.

“I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in over a century.” His voice became soft. He turned your body to face him with his back now facing the window. Dark brown eyes gazed down at you with an intensity only he could create, sending a sudden desire to let him absolutely ravage you right where you stood. His free hand reached up to your face and gently stroked the side of your cheek, the other now caressing the exposed skin of your waist. “Or touched you.”

Closing your eyes, you focused on the areas in which his skin connected with yours. Having been in a relationship with him for a few years, his touch became a familiar sensation. Despite that, on a purely physical level, your body had forgotten the pleasure-filled heights to which he could take you. Everything seemed new again, like the very first time he touched you.

And no matter the fact that time in cryosleep seemed like it passed instantaneously, neither of you could deny the obvious pining your bodies felt for one another.

You stepped closer, hands moving to rest on his chest. The distance between your bodies closed and you whispered, “Or felt me.”

His hands stilled, realising what you had meant. He leaned backwards, enough to get a good view of the look in your eyes. It was something deep and hungry for release. Sure, you’ve both had sex plenty of times; you’ve fucked rough and fast, made love sweet and slow—however many other variations there were, you’d done it—but Bellamy had never seen your desire for him appear as powerful as this.

Your eyes were swirling with a dark passion, like rolling waves in desperate need of a crest. Your cheeks were flushed, pupils so dilated your irises were almost obscured, and lips reddened and becoming plump even despite having made no contact with his own yet. It was no doubt a mirror of what you were feeling inside.

He took in a long deep breath, eyebrows furrowed as he took in your appearance, trying to steady his heartbeat which was raging out of control. You looked so beautiful. All the blood in his body drained to the lower half of him, leaving him light-headed and fuzzy, lust being the only thing to fill the contents of his mind. Bellamy could never stop lusting after you, he had just learned to control it. A one-hundred-year wait seemed like a perfectly acceptable reason to let loose a little.

“Fuck,” was all he said before his lips came crashing down onto yours.

It didn’t start slow, but rather fast and desperate. So desperate. Even so, your mouth moved in sync with his, alternating between sucking in quick breaths of air, kissing his soft yet rough lips, and allowing him to run his tongue over your own. Your hands moved up into his pushed-back hair, fingers delving between his brown waves to give a small tug, pulling a groan from inside him that buzzed against your lips.

He pulled you closer to his body with strong arms wrapped around your back, the sensitivity between your thighs coming into contact with his hardness. The material of your pants rubbing against you only enhanced the shiver-inducing sensation.

You reigned your focus back onto his lips. His mouth was hot against yours, unrelenting, catching your lips with his between each frantic breath of air. His tongue rolled over your own, so intricate and possessive as it pushed into your mouth.

Before you knew it, his hands had moved to the backs of your thighs and lifted you into his arms; your lips never disconnected. This was a movement you had both performed many times, so it wasn’t done without skill. He took a few steps forward before placing you on the control bench behind you. You hoped there were no important buttons beneath you that would cause End of Humanity 4.0.

His mouth moved from yours and down to your jaw, cupping his hand on the side of your neck to keep your head steady. You couldn’t tell if it was a moan or a sigh that escaped you. Maybe it was a mix of both, but whatever it was, it egged him on further. He had moved down to your neck, sucking and nipping at the soft, delicate skin. This time you were sure it was a moan you let out.

He curled his hand around your neck just below your jaw, careful not to apply too much pressure, but just enough to remain in control. He loved to be in control; he also knew how much you enjoyed it too. You loved how small he made you feel compared to him, how he could dominate you without an ounce of effort.

Your legs and his were in between one another like two puzzle pieces fit together, his knee between your thighs and pressing against your clit without him even realising it. Grabbing onto his shoulders for support, you pushed yourself further onto his knee, beginning to grind yourself against him as he continued to press kisses to your neck.

“Eager, huh?” his voice vibrated against your skin.

Now he knew.

Having realised what you were doing, he pushed further onto you, heightening the pressure as you rolled your hips against him. Your head fell back. It had been so long since your body had experienced such pleasure; you knew it wouldn’t take much to reach climax. Not that it mattered. It always took you both a few rounds before you were too exhausted to move anymore. Sometimes, even fatigue couldn’t stop you two.

After deciding enough damage was done to your neck, he returned to your mouth, this time slower and more sensual.

You could have easily come undone the way you were going, grinding yourself against him but knew it would be nothing compared to the release given by his hands. Greedy as you were, you wanted—needed—more, and you knew he would never deny such a request. Your satisfaction was his own after all.

“Bellamy,” you breathed against his lips. “Touch me.”

His forehead came to rest against your own, he too breathless from the heat of the situation.

“Didn’t know you were into exhibitionism, princess,” he spoke lowly with a smirk.

“Who said I was?”

“Well, technically, we have a whole world watching us.”

You rolled your eyes, a playful grin stretching across your lips only to be intersected by a short gasp as you felt his hand slip through the waistband of your pants and press against your clit.

The second you felt his fingers apply pressure and begin to move, the door to the room burst open.

“Hey, you guys need… Jesus Christ!”

Bellamy’s hand left you quicker than it came, or quicker than you came to be more exact. The both of you jumped up from your positions and turned to see Murphy standing at the door, eyes squeezed shut.

“You ever heard of knocking, Murphy,” Bellamy grumbled.

“It’s the fucking comms room!” he complained. “Just–we need you guys out in the mess hall. Now. Oh my god.”

He made quick work of leaving the room, mumbling something about rather having a missile dropped on him than ever having to witness that again.

You looked at Bellamy who seemed to share the same flustered state as you.

He blew out a stabilising breath and placed a hand behind your back. “Come on, we should see what they want.”

Still slightly trembling, you nodded, allowing him to guide the both of you out of the room as you attempted to fix your dishevelled hair. After walking together down a few hallways in tense silence, you both reached the mess hall to see the group sitting around a table, discussing something quietly among themselves. Among them was Murphy, who overdramatically shuddered at the sight of you two.

Before you could walk over, Bellamy grabbed your upper arm, leaning down until his hair brushed against your temple and he whispered, “I’m not done with you.”

He slid past you and walked towards everyone else, acting casual as they all burst into conversation. A minute or two passed until you had regained enough composure to join the group.

**********

It had been about two hours since the incident in the comms room. A plan had been set in place regarding their journey to the ground. One minute, you were safe and sound on Eligius IV, and the next, you and a small group were descending into the atmosphere of Planet Alpha in a ship.

There was a giant, wall-length window on the front of the ship that revealed the outside surroundings once you dipped below the clouds. This world was… otherworldly. Literally. The largest sun bathed the world in a constant orange glow, and the surface was covered in an abundance of vibrant green trees that sat atop various hills and rocky snow-covered mountains. All the clouds were a light orange; the sky was more pink and orange than blue. It was like they had entered a landscape painting depicting heaven.

Everyone seemed to share the same look of astonishment.

Shaw turned in his seat to face everyone. “Boys and girls, meet Planet Alpha.”

With a shudder, the ship finally planted itself on the ground, the machine hum cutting off as the rockets stopped firing. Belt buckles clicked as everybody stood from their seats, moving in front of the door, awaiting its opening. You looked beside you to see Bellamy with that same tiny grin he had the first time they opened the dropship doors. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. Technically, it was well over a lifetime ago.

He pulled down the lever and the door began to fall open. A gust of breathable fresh air wafted in your face and you inhaled deeply. It was sweet and unpolluted. Everyone remained still as they took in the incredible scenery. There were no words to describe it.

“Anyone got anything better than ‘we’re back bitches’?” Miller jested.

“Yeah,” you spoke. “Let’s not bite the apple this time.”

There were a few chuckles, a few sentimental words exchanged, along with a few heated words spoken between Shaw and Clarke. Some people were still upset over her betrayal back on Earth. What they were yet to realise was that this was not Earth, this was someplace new, a place for second chances and new beginnings.

They were supposed to be looking for a beacon that depicted a safe place for them to take up residence. Shaw, along with his tracking device, began heading in the beacon’s direction and soon enough everyone else followed suit.

You took a few moments for yourself to take in the surroundings and silently thank Monty and Harper for their sacrifice. A bittersweet smile sat on your lips and a single tear slipped down your cheek. A Garden of Eden this was, and they’d be damned if they let another serpent in.

Without even realising it, Bellamy had stood beside you, his arm wrapping around your shoulder before pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head.

“We’ll do better this time,” he reassured as if he could read your mind.

You turned your head and pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder.

His eyes crinkled as a soft smile grew on his lips. “Come on, let's catch up to the others.”

And so, you did.

Following Bellamy until you caught up with the rest of the group, you began the journey to the beacon, trekking through the new and undisturbed forest. Though it was beautiful, you still had a lingering fear of what might lurking in the thick clusters of trees. Maybe there were Grounders here too. At least they were human beings with actual consciences. This was an entirely new planet in an entirely new solar system so there could be animals or beings they had never encountered before.

All you could do was pray you weren’t on the bottom of the food chain.

An hour or two passed before the forest began to thin out and give way to a lake of pristine blue water surrounded by overlooking mountains.

“Looks like we found a water source,” Bellamy spoke as they stepped onto the tan sand. “We’ll camp here tonight and continue on at first light.”

They were confronted wave after wave with the planet’s beauty without end. It almost seemed too perfect. As everyone was distracted by the new view, Murphy began walking towards the water, removing a piece of clothing with each step, completely disregarding the fact that he had healing bullet holes on his body.

You stepped forward to stop him just as the others did. “Murphy, wait, your­–”

He glanced back at you, cutting your sentence off. “Comms room!”

That shut you up, as well as causing your face to redden intensely.

Clarke stepped beside you, watching as Murphy took off his shirt and stepped into the water, diving beneath the surface. “What was that about?”

“Uh, nothing.” You side-eyed Bellamy who was shifting his weight, clearly uncomfortable.

Soon enough, Murphy had resurfaced, his wounds bleeding and turning the water around him a faint rust colour. Not that he cared.

“Come on in, the water’s fine!” he shouted.

Emori was next to enter the water, though not entirely at her own will. It was nice to see her and Murphy enjoying themselves, but who said they could have all the fun?

Without a second thought, you unclipped your backpack and dropped it to the ground, tying your hair into a low bun with the band on your wrist. You lifted your long-sleeve shirt over your head, leaving you only in your low-cut tank top. You had thought it would have been Bellamy who was first to notice, except it was Clarke whose eyes were now trained on your chest.

Brows raised, you motioned to your eyes with two fingers. “Eyes up here, Clarke.”

She cleared her throat and mumbled an apology, focusing back on Emori and Murphy.

You walked over to Bellamy, standing beside him as he watched the scene in front of him. His attention quickly shifted to you as your hip brushed against his hand.

“What d’you say, Blake?” You unbuttoned your jeans, pushing them down to your ankles and stepping out. “Up for a swim?”

His lips parted as he stared down at your half-naked figure. Before he had a chance to answer, you were making your way down to the water with a tantalising grin. You were nothing if not a tease and he knew that firsthand. A little extra sway in your hips was all it took for him to start removing his own backpack and undressing his upper body.

The water had reached up to your hips before a pair of hands abruptly grabbed onto your waist. A short shriek escaped your throat before you were tackled beneath the water. Resurfacing, you wiped the water from your eyes, coming face-to-face with an amused Bellamy.

“Asshole!” You attempted to push his chest, but he didn’t budge, instead, he wrapped his arms around your waist again and began dragging you both further out.

“So easily riled up,” he teased with a smirk.

Sighing defeatedly, you leaned into his grasp, allowing him to keep you both afloat. Bellamy could just touch the lake floor, so you knew if he let you go, you would be drowning. Swimming wasn’t exactly anyone’s strong suit, so you just hoped you hadn’t done anything previously to piss him off.

Your legs curled around his torso. At first, the action was innocent, but then you realised that the little performance you made on the beach had consequences. Hard consequences that he seemed to be very aware of. Eyes blown wide with surprise, you squeezed your legs around his hips, grounding yourself onto him.

He grunted softly, tightening his hold on you. “You do that again and I won’t care if everyone is watching.”

The deep sense of possession enveloped in his voice sent warm tingles running down your spine, replacing the coldness of the water surrounding your body. Knowing him, he probably wasn’t lying either, especially given both of your rising desires for each other. For a split second, you were ready to test the legitimacy of his threat, but rationality was quick to jump in.

As you loosened your hold around him, you were unsure whether the look he gave you was of praise or displeasure. If you couldn’t do that, then you would at least take advantage of the opportunity for another type of intimacy.

Placing a hand on either side of his jaw, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his which he was quick to reciprocate. Droplets of fresh water dripped from the wet strands across his forehead, mixing between your skin and his, and alleviating the heat of each other’s desire.

His hands ran up and down your back underneath your saturated tank top, leaving a trail of warmth in his wake. Over and over, you kissed him and then you’d take a split second to get some air. It quickly became a pattern yet each time your lips met became more and more exhilarating.

The moment was rapidly becoming more fervent with each passing second. Soon enough, you were clinging onto each other, the water rippling from your bodies moving ever-so-slightly against one another to create some kind of friction. You could hear Bellamy’s breathing become quick and uneven, just like your own. You could feel his tongue glide across your bottom lip as if to knock before entering. And just before you could let him in, you were pulled apart…

“Hey. Hey! None of that shit,” Murphy demanded from a distance.

Bellamy pulled away first, visibly frustrated as he turned his head to your interrupter.

You simply pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned, one hand still holding onto his shoulder.

“Shut up, Murphy!” you and Bellamy shouted in unison.

Even Emori was quick to come to your aid. “Come on, John, they were just kissing.”

“You haven’t seen the things I’ve seen,” you heard him murmur to her.

**********

The sky was blanketed in darkness long after the two suns dipped below the horizon. Insects were chirping, a small fire was crackling in the centre of the group, and tiny waves were cresting on the shore. You were leaning against a log of driftwood, legs extended in front of you as you gazed at the giant, ringed planet in the sky, its purple and pink hue reflecting on the lake’s surface.

Peace. Or so it would have been if not for the chaos running rampant in your mind.

Bellamy’s lips. Bellamy’s hands. Bellamy’s fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut. Bellamy, Bellamy, Bellamy–

A loud pop from the fire sounded which startled you from your thoughts.

Opening your eyes, you looked around the camp. Everybody else seemed to be in their own little worlds too, unable to shake the incredulity of knowing they were now on an alien planet. Clarke was on her back, gazing up at the foreign sky above; Jackson was enthusing about the unfamiliar wildlife. Echo simply admired the tall mountains that encompassed the lake, an expression of gratitude reflecting on her face. You would feel the same way too if your hormones weren’t raging like that of a teenage boy’s.

To add fuel to the fire—quite literally—Bellamy was bent over the flames, cyan blue sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and feeding more wood to the blaze. His dark curls were pushed back from his face apart from a few stray strands. His skin was shining from the humidity, sending your mind spiralling into a visualisation of the times he was on top of you, all sweaty and hitting that eye-rolling spot inside of you over and over.

You sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. This was ridiculous; he was your boyfriend and yet every time he was near, your body responded to him like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Something on your mind?”

He had sat down beside you, your shoulders now pushed up against one another.

More like ‘someone’, you thought.

“Nope.” You crossed your legs over one another, thighs squeezing together in the hopes of providing some kind of relief. You couldn’t even bear to look at him, afraid that your willpower would come crumbling to ruins. “No thoughts up here.”

Bellamy eyed your visibly flustered state, one cocky eyebrow raised.

His hand moved onto your leg. “Liar. I know your tells. And this,” he murmured whilst squeezing the inner plush of your thigh, “is one of them.”

Finally, your gaze met his, almost like you were in a standoff. He knew how much you were suffering. Mostly because he was too.

“Bellamy,” you warned.

He turned back to the fire, slowly kneading your inner thigh. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Uh oh.”

The flickering flames reflecting in his dark brown irises turned them a blazing orange but did nothing to alleviate the darkness that was sitting just behind his eyes. Taunting him probably wasn’t the brightest idea at that moment.

Then again, it also held the potential to be a fantastic idea. You knew how he got when pushed to his limits.

“Seems like we can’t go five minutes without being interrupted,” he began, curling his hand around your thigh. “So, I figured we may as well turn it into a challenge.”

“A challenge?” you asked, moving your hand on top of his and taking control.

He nodded.

Slowly, you began to guide his hand further up your thigh, inch by inch. As expected, he showed no resistance. You could even see the imprint on the front of his pants which were now tight for the third time that day. “And what exactly does this challenge involve?”

As you got closer to the destination you craved most, your movements became slower, and more delayed, contrasting to the increasing pace of your chest rising and falling. Your shoulders pushed back against the driftwood, your body reclining just a tiny bit further as you stared up at him, lips parted.

Bellamy watched his hand travel beneath your own, completely transfixed. “We, uh, see who can last longer without…” he trailed off as your thighs clamped tighter around him.

The side of his hand brushed against your clit through the material of your pants and your breath hitched. Thank god everyone else was too distracted to notice the situation unfolding before them. The fire was probably doing you both some favours as well.

“Without…?” you coaxed him on.

You pressed him firmer against you, rolling your hips in small circles to create the sensation you’d been longing for. He didn’t move, only allowing you to use him for your own pleasure. The muscles in your stomach flexed as tingles quickly spread across the lower half of your body, from your toes to beneath Bellamy’s hand. You’d give anything to let him give you your release then and there, but you knew an audience wasn’t exactly favourable.

That didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the build-up.

God, Bellamy was right. You really were into exhibitionism.

By the way his brows were pulled together and his eyes looked almost pained, you swore he was about to come undone just at the sight of you.

He clenched his jaw and managed to ground out, “Without touching each other.”

Your eyes flickered between his, showing no sign of stopping your movements even when he finally managed to get out his explanation. You slightly bucked your hips forward, pulling him in further to which he inhaled sharply. Truth be told, Bellamy was the most stubborn person you had ever met, excluding his sister, Octavia. But there was one thing that could overrule Bellamy’s unwavering resolve, and that was you. Hell, on multiple occasions all you had to do was ask and he would be on his knees, mouth between your thighs in the blink of an eye, so he should have known the minute he announced his little game, you had already won.

“Okay,” you whispered with an innocent smile.

Within seconds, you had shot up onto your feet, now hovering over him.

Instinctively, he too moved into a standing position as if under threat. He stood so close that your torso was nearly touching his.

“What are you doing?” He leaned in close, voice low to prevent attracting any attention from the others.

“Um, winning?”

He scoffed. “Yeah, right. I’ve gone over a century without you; I can last a little longer.”

You took one step closer until you were flush against him. How could you not? It’s not like he’d expect you to make it easy on him.

“Only a little? Oh, come on Blake, have a bit of faith in yourself. You can last longer than that.” You looked him up and down. “I would know.”

He peered down at you, eyes half-lidded, and hummed a chuckle, one that was meant to say, ‘You are in way over your head, princess’. Maybe you were or maybe he was. What you both knew for sure was how the game was going to end, and despite your determination to win, that moment couldn’t come soon enough.

His body left yours and he backed away, a smug smirk resting on his face. He retreated over to Murphy and Emori, sitting on the log beside them and began engaging in their conversation.

You turned to face the fire, letting out a shaky breath you were hoping he couldn’t hear. It had become quiet now, the surrounding area seemed different compared to just a few minutes prior, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. The small waves were still rolling onto the shore; the campfire was still crackling.

Something was missing.

You scanned the area for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing.

“Ow!”

Your eyes snapped to the sudden voice. Clarke was sitting on a plank of wood, rubbing the back of her neck with her brows furrowed together.

Walking over, you sat on a log adjacent to her. “What happened?”

“Oh, just got bit by a bug.” She gestured to the dead insect lying on the wood beside her.

It had big, round eyes, and wings like a fly. Wouldn’t have been a cause for concern if it weren’t the size of your palm and had a tail like a scorpion.

“Some bug.”

That’s when you realised—all the insects had stopped chirping.

Almost on command, Jackson and Miller stumbled over to the campfire, gaining everyone’s attention as Jackson rambled on about how he had captured the same bug in a glass jar and its behaviour had randomly become erratic. People began rising from their seats and crowding to watch the insect smash itself against the glass. Clarke and you shared a concerned look.

The air, which once was silent and peaceful, began to buzz like you were all surrounded by a cluster of beehives. Reality was much worse.

“What the hell is that?” Emori spoke.

As if to answer her question, the sky suddenly filled with hundreds, no, thousands of winged insects, which seemed to follow each other in groups that formed large patterns in the air. You were willing to bet your life on them being the same as the one that bit Clarke. Great—man-eating bugs.

“Swarm.”

“Everybody cover up! We’re heading to the beacon now!” Bellamy commanded.

You snatched your backpack from the ground, pulling out a black cotton scarf before slinging the bag straps over your shoulders. Not long passed before the others did the same and you were all running for your lives through the dense thicket of trees. Branches snagged on your clothes, shredding them to bits as you struggled not to run face-first into a tree. You wouldn’t be the first to do it, though…. Murphy.

Your breathing was becoming irregular as your body pushed to its limits. As awful as it sounded, when Emori tripped over a fallen branch and the group had to stop and help her, you praised the lord. Everyone huddled together, the bugs now surrounding the group, flying past and leaving bite marks on your bodies. Luckily, Clarke had the idea to light a flare.

“They hate fire! Light the flares!” she shouted.

Someone came running toward you from where Emori had tripped, placing a hand on each of your upper arms. Upon seeing their eyes, you knew it was Bellamy. He wordlessly scanned your features for any wounds, his gaze a mixture of concentration and worry. You nodded as if to tell him you were alright, and he did the same.

After the ten seconds you were provided to catch your breath passed, you were on the move again, the flares now protecting the group from the swarm. The trees were becoming less and less, and the ground under your feet had turned into a wide gravel path that ended at a large field of crops surrounded by metal rod towers.

You continued running forward, following the others as the field grew closer. In front was Shaw, who was multi-tasking between tracking the beacon on his device and leading the group to safety.

“Here! The beacon’s here!” he shouted.

Just as he passed through the towers that bordered the crop field, a bolt of what looked like lightning struck him. He was sent flying back into the group with a yell, landing at your feet.

“Shaw!” You crouched down, observing the minor burns that were littered across his cheeks and forehead.

He groaned, pulling himself back onto his feet with your assistance. “I’m alright.”

Jackson rushed to his side, immediately pulling out his med pack and assessing his wounds. The damage wasn’t lethal but if they couldn’t find a way to get through to the other side, they would have more to be worried about than burnt flesh.

Clarke was already searching for an answer to their escape and once again, she found it.

“It’s radiation.” She looked around as the bugs began to circle them, blocking their long-distance view. “We need to get through. It won’t affect me.”

Before anyone could stop her, she was running through the shield-like fence.

“Clarke, wait!”

“Get back here!”

To everyone’s surprise, she made it out the other side without a scratch. But how was everyone else supposed to get through without Nightblood?

You felt a warm hand slip into your own, offering a small amount of comfort. You didn’t need to look to know whose it belonged.

“Clarke, the tower—its Eligius tech. You need the failsafe code to turn off the shield!” Shaw yelled out. “Four-seven-eight-one-five!”

Exhaling a sigh of relief, you squeezed Bellamy’s hand. There’s a failsafe code.

Clarke rushed to one of the metal towers, opened the control panel and punched in the code. The energy sources atop each tower dissipated, signalling the shield's termination.

“It’s down! Come on!”

Murphy was the first to pass through, dragging Emori behind him. Copying his actions, Bellamy tugged you forward, the both of you passing through the towers together. Once everyone made it through, Clarke powered up the defence again, causing the swarm of insects to disintegrate upon meeting the shield’s radiation bolts.

No one said a word. Instead, they used the time to catch their breaths, some laying on the ground and others dropping to their knees. You tugged the covering off your head and placed your hands on your thighs for support. Multiple strands of hair fell around your face as you bent over, trying to replace the air your lungs lost, a few strings of curses spilling out in between.

Bellamy, who was so inconceivably fit that his breathing was already slow and even, placed a hand on your shoulder. “You okay?”

Lifting a shaky arm from your leg, you gave him the thumbs up.

He tenderly massaged your shoulder and scanned the group to make sure everyone else was alright.

“What the hell was that?” Echo huffed.

**********

Night cycles on Planet Alpha operated very differently compared to Earth—darkness held the sky for a good five hours before the two suns rose again, much unlike the twelve hours everyone was accustomed to back on Earth. That and this planet sent man-eating swarms of insects whenever night fell. Or so you assumed.

The suns peaked through the distant treetops; orange beams of light were spread across the fields you had walked. A few hours had gone by since you first stepped through the radiation shields. A few hours of walking got you and the others atop a small mountain that seemed to be centred within the large circle of towers, providing a good bird's eye view of the fields of crops below.

You continued trekking up the well-trodden path on the hill, Bellamy and Clarke on either side of you. The last time you interacted with Bellamy was when you entered the protected area, but since then, you had avoided eye contact, physical touch, and conversation. You knew yourself; one wrong move and you would lose his game. Despite almost being eaten alive, you were still determined to stick to the rules, and even though innocent affection and conversation were allowed, you didn’t want to risk it.

Plus, total avoidance would only make him crave you more—the basic rule of men, unfortunately.

Emori walked a few steps in front of the group, her movements quickening as they reached a rounded corner. “Guys, look. Stairs.”

Orange-brick stairs came into view and you watched as Emori began ascending them, everyone else following behind her. You climbed up the stairs, Bellamy ahead of you by a step or two. Not for long though. Your pace increased until you were shoulder-to-shoulder, but only for a split second before you placed a hand on his bicep, dragging your palm across as you moved a few steps ahead of him. You could hear his breath hitch and a small smirk teased the corner of your lips. Now he was the one behind you—how he usually liked it.

If you weren’t going to interact with him, the least you could do was give him a good view.

Once you reached the top of the stairs, everyone stood side-by-side, taking in the view in front of them. It was incredible. It was like all the beauty on that planet had been condensed, thrown into a single area and turned into a village. That was what it was—a village. Plus, a castle?

“They have a castle,” Murphy said in wonder.

It looked like something from medieval times crossed with The Hobbit. The windows were circular and made of multi-coloured glass panes. The structure was made of bricks and rounded towers with various intricate patterns decorating different areas, and two round staircases curving up to a second-level balcony. It was so striking it had to have belonged to some divine being because no one else could have deserved such a beautiful palace. Well, there was one exception.

You glanced at Bellamy whose face was lit up with the brightest grin you had ever seen as he too let the beauty sink in. Your heart skipped a beat and you had to turn away. So, you turned to Murphy.

“Perfect for you, Murphy,” you jested. “King of the cockroaches.”

“Careful. Roaches bite, you know,” he retorted

You raised your hands in faux fear.

Clarke stepped forward. “Come on. Let’s see if anyone’s home.”

Most of the buildings looked modern and were made of glass and coloured wood or shipping containers, surrounded and covered by different types of flora. Flowers were not in short supply there, that was for sure; every garden held a new and exotic type. Even the pond in the middle of the village had flowers in it. There were coloured banners everywhere as well—some that hung from each building, and some that were standalone's. The suns’ light just made everything seem so much more vibrant and enchanting.

You and the others were going door-to-door, knocking on each one to see if anyone was there. So far, you had no luck, if that’s even what it was. Almost every home had been checked, but there was no one. The last house to be checked came by and apparently Murphy ran out of patience for simple pleasantries. He kicked the front doors open.

“Well, look at that.” He turned to the group. “This one’s unlocked.”

He stepped inside and began rummaging through the owner’s belongings, not that it surprised anyone very much. You watched as he bent over and picked up something that looked like a neck cuff connected to chains on a wall.

“Hm. Kinky.” He turned back to the group with a devious grin on his face. His eyes flickered between you and Bellamy. “Any takers?”

He gestured between the two of you with the chains as if he were offering them. Oh, you were so tempted to pull a knife on him.

Your eyes went wide, and Bellamy almost choked on his own breath. All eyes were now on you and him.

You took off in the opposite direction before anyone could say a word. “I’m–I’m gonna find a change of clothes.”

It was a perfectly reasonable excuse to leave anyway. Your clothes were practically threadbare from the rough escape through the forest. Thankfully, you could hear the group begin talking about something completely unrelated before you were out of hearing distance. You weren’t sure where you were headed in particular. Anywhere that wasn’t near Murphy or Bellamy would suffice.

You didn’t want to be apart from Bellamy at all. Quite the opposite. You wanted him. You wanted his hands to roam all over your body, to feel his arms tight around your waist as he thrust deep inside you from beneath, and to have his name dripping from your tongue as he made it impossible for you to distinguish the meaning between the words ‘love’ and ‘lust’.

(If only you knew that he was suffering the exact same way.)

However, his ego was much too inflated for you to let him win. It was a sacrifice for the greater good. The greater good being not having to constantly listen to him tease you for losing in the future. But as time went on and your body started physically reacting to the separation, losing started to seem like not such a terrible idea. You were conflicted. Give in, or push on? The decision was painfully frustrating and also just downright painful.

While amidst your thoughts, your feet had carried you to the opposite side of the village until you were standing outside a dark red-wooded house. Covering the poles that held up the structure’s second story were apple blossoms. “Let’s not bite the apple this time.” That was the first thing you had said after stepping onto the ground—a reference to the story of Adam and Eve. Now here you were, contemplating handing yourself over to desire. A literal bite of the apple.

You shook your head, pulling down the door handle to the red house and it opened. Locks didn’t exist in this place it seemed. Stepping inside, you noticed several cardboard boxes on the ground both opened and unopened. There was furnishing such as couches, bookcases, a round glass dining table, and leather seats, but they were all scattered across the room and half had white sheets covering them. It looked like the owner had just been moving in.

As you assessed the room, you noticed a floor-length mirror attached to one of the walls, so naturally, you moved yourself in front of it. The reflection did not match the person you were before leaving Eligius IV. Your bun wasn’t even a bun anymore; half of it had fallen out whilst the other struggled to stay within the hair band. Your clothes had more holes than you could count and were covered in a thick layer of dirt and insect blood. A grimace fell across your face. Gross.

At your feet was another cardboard box; it was opened with a variety of fabrics spilling out. Crouching down, you pulled out the black material at the top to find that it was a long-sleeve off-the-shoulder shirt. It wasn’t exactly practical, but it beat wearing insect organs. You exchanged your two previous shirts for the black shirt; the material stretched around your curves, clinging to your body like a second skin.

Next was a change of pants. You kicked off your shoes and peeled off your jeans, leaving you only in your black underwear and socks. And so, the search began. A good ten minutes went by and you found nothing but long skirts and dresses. You were not about to walk outside dressed up like some grounder princess. Not now at least. Maybe there were more boxes upstairs?

After locating the staircase to the second story, you began to climb. Just like the first level, there were boxes and furnishings. There was a large thigh-high mattress against the back wall with two glass doors on either side leading to a balcony. The mattress was covered in several different blankets consisting of shades between white and purple with a mountain of matching pillows at the head of the bed. On the wall facing the mattress was another floor-length mirror. These people had a vanity problem.

Much to your displeasure, none of the boxes upstairs contained any pants either, so there you stood in the middle of the room wearing only a tight shirt and underwear. You sighed in frustration, tugging your hair band from the bun and letting your locks cascade over your shoulders and down your back. With nothing else to do, you decided you might as well go outside and see what the others were doing. You stepped out onto the balcony; the house’s architect had the right idea by designing it with a concrete fence that covered your lower half.

The others were still lingering on the other side of the village. You rested your forearms on the balcony fence, watching as Murphy signalled for Shaw and Bellamy’s assistance with pulling a heavy wooden crate from inside one of the houses. Knowing Murphy, it was probably full of stuff he was going to take for himself, which would have explained Bellamy’s reluctant stance. There was also something else that seemed to be troubling him. He looked distracted, almost torn between choices, his eyes occasionally wandering to the opposite side of the village where you had previously walked off to. Nevertheless, he eventually did give in to helping Murphy.

And then suddenly time all around you began to slow down. You were in a trance and it was no one but Bellamy’s fault.

He shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing his tanned and veiny arms beneath. He placed his hands underneath the crate and lifted in time with Murphy and Shaw. Even from such a distance, you could see his muscles tense and flex under the weight, the size of his biceps nearly doubling and bursting through the seams of his shirt. His face carried a strained expression, something you had seen many times before but in very different circumstances.

Your skin flushed with heat, and your bottom lip curled between your teeth as you struggled to keep your breathing under control. Blood was buzzing in your ears; you felt fucking intoxicated. You were aware of how feral your behaviour had become but it was inevitable. In a game like this, it had to be.

Once the crate was outside, he and Murphy placed it on the ground. Bellamy ran a hand through his hair, his gaze already beginning to wander once again. As if he could feel your stare burning straight through him, his eyes found your distant ones up on the balcony. The feeling of a hole being burnt through him was understandable because your eyes were ablaze with sin. That had to have been the tenth time you’d made him hard now and it was becoming painful.

You weren’t embarrassed to be caught staring, instead, you were intrigued as to what his next movements would be. But he made none. He simply stared at you over his shoulder, eyes stern and calculating. Who was going to win wasn’t the question anymore. The question was: How could either of you prepare for what was coming? A century’s worth of abstinence was also a century’s worth of build-up, meaning the release would be messy, and Bellamy wasn’t one to hold back.

Finally, he broke the eye contact, but only for a few seconds. His eyes moved to the building beside him and then back to you as if he were trying to get you to follow his gaze. So, you did. What he had gestured to was another pair of chains and handcuffs connected to a wall. Instinctively, you gasped, feeling a pulse in your stomach which you knew was his exact objective. You looked back at him, seeing the self-satisfied grin plastered on his face before he turned back to the group.

That son of a bitch.

Your back slid down the concrete fence until your ass hit the cold marble floor. He was driving you to sex-crazed insanity and you didn’t know how to fight against it. You needed something. Anything to relieve the torment. But you knew if you started, your hands would never stop, not until they were replaced with his.

Maybe the cuffs weren’t such a bad idea.

“No!” you had to verbally reprimand yourself.

Your head fell in your hands. This was all getting too much for you. One-hundred-and-twenty-five years… and a day! You wouldn’t call yourself a nymphomaniac but holy fuck. It was getting to the point that even his name had you aching, tearing yourself to shreds. You couldn’t take it any longer.

Moving onto your hands and knees, you began crawling—yes, crawling—back inside. You managed to pull yourself up onto the mattress with trembling arms and fell back against the quilt and cushions in the middle of the bed. A shaky breath left your lips. If Bellamy couldn’t be there to take care of you, then you would finish the job yourself.

You slipped a hand beneath the thin fabric covering your heat, fingers racing to meet the spot you needed. Back arching into the bed and stomach tightening—that is what you expected to happen when your fingers began circling your clit, but it was nothing of the sort. All you felt was skin on skin and the slightest of sensations. Even when you pressed harder, and moved faster, there was nothing.

Letting out a quiet, distressed cry, you readjusted your position and switched hands. You began rubbing back and forth, side-to-side, every way that had gotten the job done in the past. You moved one hand under your shirt and began massaging your breast, pinching and grazing your nipple, trying to replicate all the moves Bellamy had pulled on you before.

Still, there was no relief from the ache you felt. You needed to go further. Your hand moved lower, fingers hovering over your slick opening before sliding one in. This was never your forte; it was Bellamy’s. Whenever you needed to pleasure yourself, you would stick with outside stimulation, so all you knew was what he had done to you. After sliding your finger in and out a few times, you added another, but it still didn’t feel right. There was something you were missing that he usually did.

He took over your thoughts and you tried to imagine it was his hands instead of your own, but you were just fooling yourself. They were your fingers, not his. You were alone and you were desperate. No one could make you feel as close to heaven as him, not even yourself. Somehow, he knew the workings of your body even better than you did. Without him there in your desperate time of need, it was useless…

So, you started crying—like, actual tears-running-down-cheeks-and-sniffling crying. You felt utterly pathetic and that was all you felt. There was nothing you could do to help yourself. Bellamy was outside with the others, and it wasn’t like you could just waltz out there without pants on and ask him to fuck you incoherent.

Your fingers slipped out from inside you, wet and splayed across your bare stomach as you stared up at the ceiling, condemned to the unshakable longing within. Too distracted by your inability to satisfy yourself and your attempts to stop the tears from flowing, you didn’t hear the door downstairs open and closd. You sniffled, continuing to feel sorry for yourself.

Footsteps were coming up the staircase, but you didn’t hear them either. Nor did you notice the familiar figure that was now leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, feeling that same terrible longing that had led him to you. Only when he cleared his throat did you shoot up into a sitting position. 

Bellamy.

“Bellamy,” you whispered, eyes wide and full of new-found hope.

He didn’t say anything, just simply observed you. First, he noticed the sparse clothing on the bottom half of your body; his pants became the tiniest bit tighter. Then he saw your eager expression—even tighter. And then, his eyes found the fingers lying in your lap, coated in a shine that had his entire body pulsing.

The drying tears on your cheeks were a dead giveaway of the desperation you had for him. He tilted his head, insincere pity washing across his features that you knew was only meant to taunt you. “What did you do?”

Your mouth opened to speak but you couldn’t find the words. “I��I–”

He pushed off the doorway and slowly walked over to you, each step measured in regard to prolonging the time it took for the distance between you and him to close.

You moved onto your knees as he got closer.

Once he finally stopped beside the mattress where you were sitting, he peered down at you. “Just couldn’t wait, could you?”

His arms were doing that thing again where they bulged beneath his shirt. He was right in front of you, all you had to do was reach out and touch. So, you did. You reached for his arm, but he was quick to intercept, catching your wrist in his hand. He looked like he was holding back a smirk, but his scheming eyes revealed how he felt. Smug.

For a moment, he moved his attention to your hand, turning it side-to-side to watch the light catch on the wetness. His eyes returned to yours and it was suddenly impossible to guess what he was thinking. He gently began to pull you forward, guiding you off the bed and you let him, oblivious as to where he was taking you.

When your feet hit the ground, he led you towards the wall. What you had failed to notice when you first entered the room was that there was another pair of chains connected to a handcuff. Scratch what you had thought before—these people had a bigger kink problem than vanity. Before you even had a chance to think, the leather cuff was bound around both your wrists.

You looked up at Bellamy. “Wait, wha–what are you doing?”

He sat back on the edge of the mattress. “Giving you another chance to win.”

The game. You had almost forgotten.

Winning and losing were a foreign concept to your mind now. All you wanted was Bellamy and he knew it which was why he found teasing you so entertaining. You tugged on the chains, trying to reach out to him even though you knew it was useless.

“Don’t think that will work, princess.”

You stared at him, exhaling sharply. Frustration was quickly building, and you wondered how long it would take until you were in tears again.

He looked around the room as though he hadn’t a worry in the world.

“It’s kinda hot in here, don’t you think?” he asked, brows furrowed.

Then he was pulling his shirt over his head and you were sinking to your knees. That was just cruel. His entire torso was exposed now, from his well-defined abs and chest to his broad and muscular shoulders. So cruel.

Your head fell back against the wall. “Bell–”

“What were you thinking about?” he interrupted, arms crossed over his chest again. There was no material preventing you from watching his muscles expand, from seeing the crafted curves of his toned arms. “Before I came in.”

I was pretending it was you who was touching me, you thought of saying, but your voice failed you.

He leaned forward, forearms resting on his spread knees. Staring at you expectantly, he was quick to realise he wasn’t getting an explanation. He nodded as if to say, ‘I see how it is’.

“Was it my fingers…?” He began cracking his knuckles one finger at a time, gaining all of your attention. “Or was I inside you?”

Your walls spasmed at the thought and you sighed softly.

“Were you imagining what it would feel like to have me between your legs after so long?” You closed your eyes, listening to him put the images in your mind. “How good I can make you feel? How fast?”

Goosebumps spread all over your body, your skin tingling with anticipation. You heard the bedsheets ruffling. He had moved off the mattress, now crouched in front of you, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about it too.” His voice was a low murmur now. “I can’t stop.”

He watched your eyes screw shut even tighter as he got closer. You looked like you were hurting, and he almost gave in, with heavy emphasis on the ‘almost’. Instead, he ghosted a finger across your collarbone. “I think about kissing you here.” He trailed up your neck. “Here.”

You could feel the air flexing between your lips and his finger, and you shivered. “And here.”

Your eyes slowly peeled open to see his face in front of yours. His dark eyes flickered between your own, peering deep into your soul which was entwined with him. He was already inside you without even touching you; he was inside your mind and under your skin. Your body was his and his body was yours. You loved him so intensely that whenever he fucked you, you forgot you were two different people instead of one.

To Hell with the challenge. To Hell with losing. He was your Heaven, and such torturous deterrents wouldn’t keep you away from the rapture he gave.

In a single move, you leaned forward and crashed your lips to his. Your body curved into him and he caught you with both arms, holding you upright against him. There was a split second before Bellamy responded as realised you finally gave in which meant he could too, and his lips began moving against yours. Just like the first kiss you shared on Eligius IV after waking up, this one was hungry, but that word sounded inadequate compared to what it really was. ‘Ravenous’ was more accurate.

You moaned into his mouth, your body feeling like it was coming alive.

His movements were intoxicating and so were the small sounds he made when he tried to fill his lungs with air. There was a rumbling in his chest, and he sounded almost primal. He brought a hand to the side of your head, fingers buried beneath your hair as he deepened the kiss, merging your lips with his.

Your bodies rocked backwards and forwards, your cuffed hands pressed against his chest meanwhile his were around your back and the other was in your hair. Bellamy’s hand moved to squeeze your waist and your mouth opened, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue inside and meet your own.

He rolled his tongue over yours during one kiss, and the next, yours had asserted dominance. You swirled around him, tasting him, mixing with him. During the time you took to explore the inside of his mouth, the floor beneath you had disappeared and was replaced with his arms. Your back was against the wall and if he wanted to, he could have dropped you at his feet; you had no way of holding on except for your legs which were wrapped around his hips.

You returned the power to him for a few seconds only to then lightly bite down on his bottom lip. He let out a quiet groan and slowly drew back to press his forehead to yours. For a while, you both stayed like this, breathing in each other’s breaths with your eyes closed.

Everything around you began to spin, and your head felt euphoric as you used his air as your own. The sensation spread through your body, it coursed through your veins and you needed to move, to feel it come to life. Your hips bucked forward but he was quick to push back, pinning you against the wall with a small grunt. His erection pressed between your legs, but he didn’t move. Eyes snapping open, you sent him a pleading look. How much longer was he going to make you wait? You tried to move your cuffed hands between your bodies, but he held them to his chest with one hand.

You wiggled against him, but it was futile.

“Bell,” you almost sobbed. “Bellamy, please.”

He lifted a finger beneath your chin, watching your reddened lips whisper the word ‘please’. He watched your eyes water, tears threatening to spill over the edge. You begged him over and over, and he allowed you to. He let you humiliate yourself in the hopes that he would give you what you wanted. You had completely fallen apart, and now he was going to piece you back together.

“What do you want?” His thumb brushed across your lips.

“Just touch me,” you pleaded.

A few more moments passed of you both just staring at each other, and then it was like something finally snapped in his eyes. He set you down on your feet. At first, you thought he was going to sit back on the bed, and you nearly choked out an objection. That isn’t what happened.

Instead, he pressed another tender kiss to your lips, then to your jaw, your neck, and down your clothed chest. His hands moved down either side of your body as he sunk to his knees in front of you and trailed kisses across your exposed stomach.

Your breaths started coming out in shorter, shallower intervals as he moved further down.

His hands squeezed your hips as he kissed the skin below your navel, causing your eyes to nearly roll back then and there. Finally, he made it to just above the waistband of your underwear. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly now. So close. His hands moved onto your thighs and he leaned in, briefly pressing his warm lips to your thinly covered heat. A jolt of pleasure moved up your body and you gasped. You could feel it—him.

He glanced up at your impatient expression before pulling the underwear down your legs, lifting each foot until it was completely discarded. He eyed the soaking mess that you already were and licked his bottom lip. This was all because of him. His eyes found yours once more, this time wordlessly asking for access despite your obvious enthusiasm.

All you managed to get out was a frantic, “Please”.

And when his mouth finally found your clit, a tear fell from your eye.

Your bound hands fell on top of his head, tugging at the soft waves as his tongue delved between your folds and flicked across your clit. His warm hands moved to the backs of your thighs, burying his face even deeper, exploring you even further. He moved down to your opening, spreading his tongue flat against it and dragging up to collect the mess that you were already becoming. Once he had returned to your clit, his mouth suctioned, sucking with pressure that caused you to let out a cry.

It wasn’t long before you felt the ghost of your orgasm begin to slowly step into the white light. The muscles in your stomach were tensing and rubbing together, preparing for a release that they were guaranteed to have.

Your back arched off the wall as you felt Bellamy’s teeth softly graze against the most sensitive part of your clit. He circled the surrounding area, the nerves beneath your skin setting alight with pleasure under his tongue, burning you from the inside out. When he mumbled something against you, you could feel the vibrations of his voice bury itself deep inside you, and you couldn’t hold back the filthy moan that had been begging to escape.

He pulled back an inch, your hips unconsciously following him as he said, “You lose.”

His mouth returned to your heat, focusing his attention on your throbbing clit, switching between flicking it with his tongue and sucking it into his mouth.

“No,” you managed to breathe out. There was no way something like this could be called ‘losing’. You were the one who got to feel Bellamy’s mouth between your thighs, bringing you to an extreme state of ecstasy. You were the one who had him on his knees before you. “I win.”

He groaned at the sound of your voice and you felt the pleasure move up another level. Your legs buckled beneath you as you tried to grind on his tongue. He took that as a hint to haul one of your legs over his broad shoulder. Now you were another level higher. Your hips bucked against him, feeling almost like you were vibrating as he continued his movements.

Just when you thought the sensation couldn’t get any better, you felt his thick finger suddenly slide deep into your opening and curl. Another tear ran down your cheek and you gripped onto his hair as your head fell back against the wall. You couldn’t even moan; there was only a chorus of strangled noises leaving your throat. He pushed upwards into the soft fleshy wall inside you over and over at a fast and steady pace, and suddenly, you were on the edge of pure bliss, ready to dive into the consuming waters.

His mouth sucked on your clit, tongue circling its peak, meanwhile, he added another finger to pump inside of you.

“Fuck, Bellamy!” Your voice had risen an octave, all breathy and needy.

Like a heartbeat, you could feel yourself throbbing, pleasure building more intensely with each pulse. The muscles in your stomach were so tight it felt like they were being burned with a white-hot flame. Your insides were twisting and coiling and with every curl of his fingers, the feeling only intensified.

Bellamy glanced up at you from below, your eyes meeting in a short exchange.

It all happened so fast.

“I’m–” Before you could finish your sentence, you were shot back up into space, seeing stars.

Your legs tensed up, heel digging into his back as your body began to shake. The coil inside your stomach unravelled, exiting through your opening but not before aggressively rubbing at your insides on the way out. For a moment, you forgot where you were. All you knew was the release, the buzzing in your ears and the way your vision swayed through half-lidded eyes.

Bellamy’s name flowed past your lips like a mantra. He didn’t stop; he kept pumping, kept sucking, prolonging the sensation for as long as he could. Everything was pulsing—the air, his fingers, your pussy. Everything. You would’ve thought you had ascended to a higher dimension if it weren’t for the man beneath you.

You felt his mouth disconnect from your body, fingers still moving inside, although, his pace was beginning to slow and so was your orgasm. The feeling was fading away, leaving you with an overwhelming feeling of weakness in the lower half of your body. Bellamy could feel your legs shaking, so he slid his fingers out. You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore and the next thing you knew, your legs buckled, and you were collapsing to the ground

Bellamy caught you in his arms, pulling you into his lap. He watched your thighs tremble as aftershocks washed over you, creamy liquid dripping down your skin. Your furrowed brows, half-closed eyes, and parted lips were a sight to see; he’d never witnessed anything more beautiful in his life.

You peered up at him through your lashes, cuffed hands resting on your stomach, and you smiled. Then you laughed, and then he was laughing too. His chest vibrated against your skin. Your hands reached up to push back a strand of his hair from his face and suddenly you were kissing again.

He placed a hand on your back and guided you until you were sitting sideways on his lap. Your taste was on his tongue and you loved it. You felt it seep into your own tastebuds as you rewound back to when you came on his fingers. You used his chest as support to help swing your legs on either side of his folded thighs so that you were now facing him.

His hands ran down your sides, stopping at the hem of your shirt before pulling it up over your head, exposing your naked breasts to the warm air. Bras were impractical when you were Bellamy Blake’s girlfriend; he’d always find some way of removing them anyway. Hell, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he had burned all the ones you used to wear.

He lowered his head to your chest, hair tickling your neck as he began making it his mission to cover your breasts in bruises that marked you as his. Despite feeling like your ability to walk was eradicated, you could feel yourself craving more of him, more of his sex. As previously disclaimed, sometimes fatigue didn’t stop you two from going multiple rounds and this time wasn’t an exception.

If only your hands weren’t bound. You wanted to touch him the way he did you. You wanted him to feel the world disappear and be replaced with a mind-numbing sense of sinful pleasure. You wanted to give that to him, but you couldn’t. Your hands were cuffed, and he had the key.

“Uncuff me, Blake,” you whispered.

His head lifted from your breasts, reluctant eyes meeting your own. “Why should I?”

You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness and turned your head away from him, but he was quick to pull you back with two fingers on the side of your jaw.

“You still lost, remember?” he added.

As if you didn’t already know that. “That was not my definition of losing.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes and even though you were supposed to be in a minor disagreement, you couldn’t help but think about how fucking sexy he looked. You leaned forward, lips ghosting over his. “Uncuff me, Blake.”

His jaw clenched and he leaned in, but you quickly pulled away. His eyes narrowed at you and the smirk you were biting back. He had played the ‘humiliation game’ with you and now it was time for payback. Bellamy may have been the one with the keys, but it was you who now had the control.

“C’mon, we both know you’ll give in before me,” he said, arrogantly.

Always count on Bellamy to be egotistical, even in bed. Well, ‘on the floor’ would be more accurate.

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

You hummed, placing your restrained hands on his chest and slowly grazing them down his torso. When you reached his stomach, you made sure to slow down and drag your nails across his skin.

He inhaled sharply when your nails scratched the area above his pants’ waistband. “Very conceited for a boy who can’t even handle being touched.”

His chuckle came out as a harsh exhale. “‘Boy’?”

“A man would take these chains off me.”

“You think taunting me will get me to break?”

Provoking words wasn’t what was going to break him; you knew that. It was underestimation that was going to be his fall. When it came down to it, men were very simple creatures. They chased after pleasure like it was the one thing that kept them alive, and you knew each and every weakness this man had. He thought just because he won the game, he also won the war. Well, guess again. You were going to knock him right off his high horse.

Your fingers dipped into his waistband. His hand quickly clamped over one of your wrists, pulling it away from his pants. Not that it mattered; you didn’t need your hands. He held your hands in the space between your bodies, his chest rising a little more irregularly than before.

You leaned forward, tantalisingly slow. This time he made sure not to move a muscle, allowing you to do exactly what you wanted. Your mouth hovered in front of his and you could feel his warm breath fan across your lips. Softly, almost as if the moment had become sugary and sweet, you pressed a kiss to his lips, a tender closed-mouth moan buzzing in your throat upon contact. He responded with the same energy.

And then the mood abruptly shifted as you glided your tongue across his bottom lip.

You could feel his cock twitch beneath you, and you knew you were headed in the right direction. Grinding down on his lap, you managed to slip your tongue into his mouth as he grunted. One weakness down; four to go. Your tongue swirled around his with each open-mouth kiss, and he had no choice—you both knew he was having the time of his life—but to reciprocate since he had already given up that area of defence.

Your hips continued to rock back and forth across his lap, occasionally applying a bit more pressure in the hopes he would be triggered to move. He wasn’t. Yet. So, you left his lips and moved down to his neck, sucking and nipping at the skin. His head tilted to the side with a sigh, allowing you easier access. This spot was not your main target, though. Your kisses trailed up to his jaw, running along the sides and the curve of his jawline before dipping just beneath the area where his jaw and neck connected. That was one of his weak spots.

His next exhale was shaky, paired with the quietest of groans. Two down. Then you moved on to the next target: just below his ear. Your tongue grazed the area before you left your mark by sucking on his soft skin. He was louder this time and your confidence soared higher. Three; two to go.

He had let go of your wrists now, resting his hands on the curves of your hips with his eyes closed. So much for the whole my-willpower-is-stronger-than-yours dispute. You watched his face as you dragged yourself back and forth over his erection. His eyes screwed shut, brows pulling together, and his fingers pressing hard into the soft plush of your hips.

Come on. Come on, you thought.

“Let go, Bell,” you purred into his ear. Your entire body weight shifted onto his lap and you almost revealed the same weakness you were trying to pull from him. He was so incredibly hard now that it probably wasn’t even healthy. He would have to unchain you soon. And just to pour gasoline on an already roaring fire, you added, “I want to feel you inside me.”

That was it. He couldn’t deny himself the heaven you were giving anymore. His hips bucked up into you, creating a pseudo-sensation of sliding between your folds—an action that erupted a full-fledged moan from his lips, causing your inner walls to flutter and your stomach to drop.

Weak point four—check.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath before suddenly snatching the knife from the holster on his belt and splitting the leather cuffs around your wrists.

And five. Check yes Juliet.

Wow. he couldn’t even manage to grab the keys.

Your hands were free at last, and you wasted no time in using them. They rushed down to unbuckle his belt and tossed it on the floor with a clink. Before you could continue any further, Bellamy rolled you over so that you were now lying caged beneath him. His lips came down on yours in a flurry of passion.

Now that you had full-body autonomy, you couldn’t help but explore every inch of him that you were once denied of touching. Your fingertips ran over his back, over the ridges of his shoulder blades, and around his large biceps. You wove your fingers into the roots of his hair and tugged just because you could.

He reached under the curve on your back, pulling your body up into his, your pelvis’ meeting in a rough collision. He was a mess of grunts and groans and you were quickly inhaling more air than you needed.

You moved a hand to his cheek to deepen the kiss as your touch explored his body further, slipping between your bodies and settling on unbuttoning his pants. Unzipping his flier with one-handed skill, your warm, soft hand slipped into his boxers, finally coming into contact with his hard cock.

His head fell to your chest with a broken moan.

Your fingers curled around him, beginning to stroke up and down his length. Bellamy had taken many of your firsts, including your first time so you had no one to compare him to. However, you were well aware that he was bigger than average. Even if he hadn’t been, you were certain he would satisfy you the same; he was just that good.

He managed to lift his head back up and return to your lips as your arm pumped up and down. His hips lurched forward as your grip increased. All he could think about was how good you were going to feel when it was your heat that was engulfing him, how wet and warm you always were.

Your hand reached the head of his cock, thumb rubbing circles over his tip as you felt drops of precum coat your fingertip. He was usually able to last a long time, just like you, but this was different. Everything inside him was built up for a century, and it would not take much until he was coming in your hand. You wanted him to reach that point as soon as possible.

You left pecks trailing from his mouth, across his cheek, and to the side of his jaw. The bone of his jaw fell victim to your grazing tongue as your pace increased along with the pressure of your grip. He was breathing heavily now, every second breath mixed with a low, breathy moan or grunt. You were throbbing just listening to the sounds he made.

A few curses left his mouth, revealing how close he was—that and the way his cock was practically pulsating in your hand. You twisted your hand with each stroke, effortlessly gliding your palm down his large veiny length. Your thumb grazed over the sensitive band of skin beneath the head of his cock, and his entire body flinched.

He was almost over the edge; all you had to do was give him a little push. Wanting to see his face one last time before you did, you leaned back, cradling his jaw in one hand whilst the other continued below. His eyes were shut, inner brows pulled upwards in a painfully blissful expression and strands of dishevelled dark hair had fallen across his forehead. God, he was gorgeous. What you wouldn’t give to…

No. You had your pleasure; now it was his turn. With each jerk and twist of your hand, your fingers ran over his tip then moved back down to lightly squeeze and repeat. You pressed one last peck to his lips before travelling to that spot below his ear, running your tongue over the skin and then sucked.

His cock twitched in your hand, stomach tensing against your forearm before he finally let go. He let out a loud guttural moan of your name, almost a cry, as he released onto both your hand and the inside of his pants. His head fell forward into the space between your neck and shoulder, groaning into your heated skin which sent vibrations down to your breast.

He remained in that spot for a few moments as you continued to slowly pump him up and down whilst pressing kisses to his shoulder. As he attempted to get his breath back, you removed your hand from his pants and moved both onto his back, lightly dragging your nails over his skin.

Now you were both even, but it was clear this was far from over.

Warm pants fanned across your face after he recovered enough to hover over your body. You were about to tease him for coming quicker than you did, but his tongue was suddenly in your mouth, rolling around your own. And then you felt it—he was already hard again.

That’s a lot of stamina for a hundred-and-fifty-one-year-old man.

He left your lips again and rose to his knees. His carnally intense eyes never left yours as he pulled both his pants and boxers down to his lower thighs. You watched as his cock sprang from his boxers and bounced off his toned stomach. Still looking good for a hundred-and-fifty-one-year-old man too. Extremely good. Like, actually drool-worthy good.

And it seemed he was thinking the very same thing.

“You’re so beautiful,” he spoke, almost like he couldn’t believe the fact himself before he descended back down to you, mouth hot on yours.

His hands were on the floor on either side of your shoulders, essentially trapping you beneath him. You loved how small he made you feel compared to him; almost like he could hold you in the palm of his hand like a little china doll. The treatment he gave you was also like that of a china doll—such a delicate and treasured touch. Though, there were times when he would practically throw you around like a rag doll, mostly when you were both deep in an intense fuck session.

The length of his cock glided over your stomach as he moved his body into each kiss. It was so close to where you needed it, yet still so far. Your legs curled around his hips in an attempt to guide him to your entrance, but he showed slight resistance. His tip was just pushing through your folds, sliding across with each movement he made. It was torture.

You pulled back from his lips, hands almost clawing at the sides of his chest. “Please, Bell, just–”

A gasp escaped you both as Bellamy finally pushed inside you in one fluid movement, his hips almost meeting yours as he filled you as much as your previously abstinent body allowed. Your walls welcomed him and the long-awaited feeling of his cock brushing against that back-arching spot deep within you. He hadn’t even moved yet, but your eyes were fluttering, and your throat was already tightening as you struggled to let out a moan.

Neither of you could do anything but struggle to keep your composure, waiting for the overwhelming heat of pleasure to subdue just the tiniest bit so your bodies could start moving without the world crashing down around you. After moments of stillness passed, Bellamy finally began to move, his pace slow but so, so deep. His gaze was intense as he found his rhythm, sliding almost completely out and then pushing himself back inside you. Fuck, the way your warmth consumed him was hypnotic.

It was kind of like the first time you had slept together those many years ago, minus the nearly unbearable pain when he first entered you, of course. It was intense yet still so full of adoration.

Your body soon grew accustomed to the feeling of his cock stretching you open, making room for him to bury even deeper, to feel your walls completely swallow him whole. That is when his pace started to increase. Your arms hooked around his biceps, bringing him closer as he continued his thrusts.

Not long passed before his hips were snapping against yours; he wasn’t just sliding in and out of you anymore—he was fucking you, pounding into you. Each time he buried himself deep, the area above his cock ground against your clit, stimulating you from the inside and out, so much that it was impossible to hold back a moan.

He moved a strand of hair away from your face, nodding his head as if to praise your vocalisation. The sight of him praising you for simply enjoying yourself as he fucked you was something that turned you on beyond belief. Not that you needed any more turning on at that point, but still, the reaction stood firm.

You wanted him deeper, in any way that was still physically possible.

And then, a sudden, lust-bound thought entered your mind and before you could even ponder it, you had used all your strength to roll yourself on top of his body. Now, his hands were on your hips, head thrown back on the floor and mouth hung open as you rode his cock.

“Oh, fuck!” Bellamy groaned.

Your hands were on his thighs as to hold up your half-reclined position and you were bouncing up and down, rolling your hips so you could feel him everywhere inside you.

A shudder ran down your body, peaking the nipples of your bouncing breasts. You swore you could almost feel him in your stomach. You shifted your body weight into your arms and pushed yourself upwards, sliding his cock nearly all the way out, circling your entrance around his tip before sinking back down to his base.

The both of you let out a synced noise of satisfaction.

His eyes followed each roll of your breasts in a trance, and then he cupped one in his hand, circling his thumb around your sensitive nipple. You gave Bellamy a smile, one that was so sweet and unintentionally seductive. He let out a half chuckle, half groan.

Your legs began to burn, a reminder of the experience you had with Bellamy’s tongue just before this. The way your clit was slapping against his pelvis each time you dropped mimicked the way his tongue had previously flicked and rolled around it. Your pace was beginning to slow, and your rhythm faltered, but you didn’t want the sensation to stop. Instead, you let yourself sink fully down on his cock, and your eyes rolled back. Ok, now he had to be in your stomach because there was no other explanation for the deepness you felt.

He was permanently in that spot that had blood rushing to your head, and with your hips rocking back and forth the way they were, your gut was throbbing with a build-up of ecstasy.

“I–” you panted. “I can’t hold myself up much longer.”

You squeezed his thighs, surely leaving behind red marks as you tried to push yourself up and down a few more times, pleasure and pain fuelling each of your repetitions. It was no use; your arms were trembling, and muscles were burning.

Bellamy was quick to your aid. “I’ve got you, princess, don’t worry.”

His hands moved to your back, pulling you forward, and colliding your breasts into his chest. Next thing you knew, he was pounding hard up into your pussy, his movements so fast you couldn’t even count the number of thrusts he made every five seconds, but it felt so good. So good that you almost screamed.

Your clit was throbbing, inner walls clenching around his unrelenting cock. You were hot, your body slick with sweat, but it wasn’t just that; there was also a fire pooling at the bottom of your abdomen, spreading through your muscles, through every fibre of your being and you didn’t want it to stop.

Bellamy’s arms were wrapped around your waist, rendering you immobile to each of his insatiable thrusts but it made you feel all the more incredible. He was hitting that soft, fleshy spot inside you over and over again, and you felt like you were going to burst. Your stomach was fluttering, his cock was pulsing inside you, and you were a mess of whines and moans.

“You feel–” he couldn’t even speak without releasing a rough moan. His arms tightened around you, mouth moving against your shoulder to say, “Feel so good.”

You couldn’t help but cry out at his words; he sounded so drunk on pleasure.

He began pressing rough kisses to your neck and the noises leaving your throat were utterly impure. His knees bent inwards, allowing him to thrust even faster into you. You were both overcome with desire, hellbent on chasing your release that was taunting you from the shadows. Bellamy seemed almost animalistic, sucking and biting at the skin of your neck whilst pounding into you from below.

Like always, he had made it so that you didn’t have to lift a finger, and he liked it that way. He was making you feel like you had slipped into heaven, and only he could do that. One of his many sources of joy was that your body only knew his cock, and it would forever only know his because that was how long he planned to love you.

You placed a hand on the floor beside his head, hovering your face above his. His eyes were quick to find yours as you gazed down at him.

In between each of his thrusts, you breathed out, “I–love–you.”

He looked so flustered, so puffed out. He was unable to repeat the words back without them sounding like a laboured breath of air so instead, he jerked forward and latched his mouth on the bone of your jaw, turning your skin red and purple.

Your head turned to the side to give him easier access only to unexpectedly come face-to-face with yourself being absolutely destroyed in the mirror’s reflection.

Well… It sure wasn’t a vanity problem these people had, you knew that now.

“Bellamy, look,” you gasped.

His entire body stilled at the sound of your voice and he eyed you with a worried expression. “Did I do something?”

“No,” you tilted his head with your hand so that he was looking at the mirror too. “I just…”

He didn’t need to hear more; Bellamy knew exactly what you wanted—to watch. Watch as his cock plunged in and out of your pussy, watch it curve into your entrance, watch your body bounce on top of his with each thrust. Damn, he’d wished either of you had noticed the mirror before so he could have watched you ride him from two point-of-views.

His gaze returned to you. “Hop off.” You were about to protest, but he beat you to it by clamping a large hand over your mouth. “Trust me.”

You gave him a puzzled, hesitant look but eventually submitted to his command, sliding off him and onto the hard marble floor. His body had left yours entirely, leaving you feeling cold and empty, inside and out.

It wasn’t long before he positioned himself to face the mirror, kneeling in front of it. He curled an arm around your waist and slid you across the floor towards him. Like a rag doll. He pulled you backwards onto his lap so that your back was almost against his chest and your thighs were spread open on either side of his.

“Lean back,” he said, and you did.

Your back was flush against him, and you could feel his racing heart reverberating in your ribcage. His arms wrapped around the space beneath your breasts and he pulled you upwards, supporting your weight, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up.

“Ready?” he whispered into your ear as you watched him in the reflection.

You nodded, reaching around to rest a hand on the side of his neck.

He kissed your cheek and your eyes closed at the sweet act of affection. One of his hands moved beneath you as he guided himself to your entrance, his tip pushing against your wet folds. Bellamy watched over your shoulder, his eyes focusing on the way his cock teased opening.

He finally slid inside, and you instantly fell further against him. Muscles were very handy in this kind of situation. You were captivated—his length disappeared into your body and then returned almost to the tip, covered in a thin layer of both your juices. His movements continued over and over, but you never found yourself bored or wanting to look away. Neither did he.

Your lips parted with a moan when he abruptly took one hard thrust up into you. You looked up at your reflection, seeing the expression on your face, seeing your dishevelled hair… your bouncing breasts. Not that you would say it aloud, but you looked sexy. For a split second, you found yourself finally understanding the attraction Bellamy had to you, and then your mind was torn apart once again.

His speed increased and he was hitting your insides harder and harder with each passing second. You saw your thighs slightly jiggling and weren’t insecure or afraid of Bellamy noticing, but instead found yourself feeling even more turned on.

The room was full of sex—the sounds were wet and harsh, the smell of your pheromones clung to the wall, and the visuals were etched into the mirror in front of your bodies. It was beautiful.

You moved your gaze up to Bellamy’s eyes, seeing him just as captivated as you were, alternating between watching himself slip in and out of your pussy and watching your breasts recoil from each bounce. He then met your gaze, talking to you through unspoken communication. Though you were unsure of the specifics, you were certain he was telling you how much he loved you, how beautiful you looked with his cock inside you, how no one else could ever compare.

His tip repeatedly curved into your G-spot, the rest of his length rubbing against your walls, causing the flames in your stomach to start rising. Bellamy could see the fire in your eyes, and he was ready to turn it into a blazing inferno. He shifted his hold on you into one arm, reaching around your body with the other. His fingers found your clit, instantly applying pressure as he rubbed fast circles around it. That was the gasoline.

Your orgasm was no longer creeping up inside you, but rather rocketing to the surface. You were pulsing around Bellamy’s cock, driving him even closer to his own high. His hips were slapping the skin of your ass as they kept snapping upwards. His abs were more defined as the muscles in his stomach tensed up, trying to keep you upright whilst fucking into you and controlling the orgasm that was threatening to release. You always came before him. Always.

His fingers pressed harder into you, moving side-to-side. Your G-spot was being hit without mercy, only intensifying the pleasure you felt as he rubbed your clit. You alternated between holding your breath and letting out shallow, laboured breaths, signalling how close you were.

You could feel it, Bellamy could feel it—you were pretty sure everyone outside could feel it too, feel the powerful energy leaking from the house you were in. That is what it felt like. Powerful. And now it was about to take over your entire body.

“Bell, I’m gonna–”

“I know,” he panted. “Me too.”

Your hand fell over his, pushing down on it, applying more force even though you weren’t sure he could even press any harder. His hand was almost blurring in the mirror, and his cock was pounding. He was breathing so heavily against your back and into your ear that it sounded like he couldn’t even control the grunts and moans leaving his mouth anymore.

He circled your clit a few more times before your hand moved further down to the place you both connected. Your fingers found the area between his cock and your pussy, feeling him slide over your fingertips as he moved in and out. That was what sent you over the edge.

The blaze in your stomach exploded, sending sparks throughout your body. Your moans were uncontrollable, rebounding off every corner of the room. Your ears were buzzing with overwhelming silence, your vision partially blacked out and you felt so, so good. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, but you hardly noticed, unable to think about anything except Bellamy’s cock. You had ascended to a higher dimension and he was right there with you, endlessly pounding up into you, prolonging your mind-numbing high.

Feeling your walls clenching around him was all it took for Bellamy to fill you up with his come. His cock twitched, and the warm liquid came rushing out in spurts, coating your insides with white—with him. The thick warmth of your mixed juices leaked from your opening and dripped down his length. Your inner thighs were drenched.

His thrusts were sloppy and rough, desperate to keep the feeling coursing through his body as long as possible. The sounds he made were so guttural and raw that you weren’t sure if they made you come again or if they just prolonged the orgasm you were already having.

Somehow, in the midst of both your highs, you had ended up on the floor, partially laying on each other whilst frantically gulping down air.

You couldn’t move. One of your legs was tangled between his, and one arm was thrown across his chest. Your breasts were pressed against the hard ground, head turned to the side facing Bellamy. Everything was shaking, or maybe it was just your entire body uncontrollably quivering. Even your pussy was still clenching, causing you to flinch with each fraction of a movement it made.

Bellamy had a forearm over his eyes, panting heavily; his other arm was still wrapped around your waist.

The both of you just lay there for a few minutes, not talking, not moving, just recovering. Eventually, Bellamy gained back enough strength to speak.

“We didn’t even make it to the bed,” he chuckled.

You then realised you were both literally lying naked on a stranger’s bedroom floor and laughed. “We would’ve ruined the sheets anyway.”

“Probably,” he sighed, contently. He pulled you further onto his chest, bringing your face to nuzzle into his neck. He pressed a kiss into your hair. “I love you too, princess.”

You smiled into his skin, remembering the declaration you previously made. Tilting your head up and resting your chin on his chest, you stared up at him, eyes full of reverence. He peered down at you with a grin, and then his lips were on yours again, soft and slow; so tender that you–

“Oh, come on!”

You both pulled apart at the sudden new voice. In the doorway stood a very irritated Murphy. He seemed too shocked—more like too horrified—to even look away.

Bellamy ripped a blanket from the edge of the mattress and pulled it over your body. “Murphy, I swear to god I’m gonna kill you! Get out!”

“Oh my god!” he shouted in response. “I can’t catch a fucking break around here!”

His voice echoed down the staircase as he fled the building. Someone probably needed to find him a shrink after the number of times he had walked in on you both. He had made it back outside, returning to the rest of the group, though not far enough away for you to miss his very loud complaints.

“Where are the damn carnivorous bugs when you need them?!”

“What’s wrong?” you heard someone ask him.

“What’s wrong? They’re fucking animals, that’s what’s wrong!”

You turned back to face Bellamy, grinning in a daze. “I’ll say.”

Bellamy smirked, humming in agreement as he rolled back on top of you.

It was hard to say how many more rounds you went. The only time you stopped was when your bodies were screaming for a break, and during that time, all you could think was thank god for contraceptive implants.

#wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️ #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake x y/n #bellamy blake smut #bellamy blake fanfiction #the 100 #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy x reader #bellamy blake drabble #bellamy x clarke #bellarke #bob morley #bob morley smut #the100edit #clarke griffin #john murphy

[serene-destruction]

(Platonic) Reactions To Finding Out You're In Hell For Killing Your Abuser [Angel, Lucifer, Alastor, Vox]

TW: Mentions of childhood sexual abuse | Cannon typical violence | Mentions of suicide

A/n: this one is really dark so reader discretion is greatly advised. Read at your own risk.

Word Count: 4.5k

Angel Dust

You and Angel Dust likely met at the hotel. You were a newer resident of hell that just so happened to be spotted by Charlie and taken in after wondering the streets.

He didn't take to you right away, considering he had his own issues to deal with. Not to mention that you were such a goody two shoes that it kinda made him feel even worse about himself. Despite his name he knew he was far from any angel and your presence only exemplified that.

By all accounts you seemed to save your shit together. A drug free, pure and kind person, through and through. You never faltered. So it takes a while for him to even stand being in your presence, longer to actually try and talk with you. He hates that he doesn't find something to hate about you. Just so damn perfect.

He should have known better, truthfully. No one gets sent to hell off a whim, there were reasons. He was just so blinded by your purity at first that he doesn't see it. He isn't the only one, either. Charlie would be the first to use you as an example of purity.

But all the same the two of you do end up getting close to each other. You may be a bit straight-laced for his taste, but he can't help but grow attached. You're a good kid, you really don't deserve to be here.

It only takes one night for his perceptions of you to shatter

It started with one of Charlie's trust games. You were all meant to share what sins brought you down here. In a place like hell that wasn't usually a very taboo subject. Murder, drugs, sex, Angel's heard it all. But despite that assurance you wanted absolutely nothing to do with the exercise. You had locked yourself in your room, refusing to participate. So while the others went on ahead Angel decided he'd talk to you.

“Kid! C’mon, it can't be that bad!”

“I don't want to!” You were adamant. He should have known it right then

“Kid…look, can ya at least let me in? I'm tired of yelling through the door!” He pleaded and, to his surprise, you did. Your eyes avoided him completely as you allowed him to step in the room. Even when the two of you sat down on your bed you didn't budge. You looked almost as terrified as the first day you came here.

“Look, I get that admittin’ what you done can be a bit…embarrassin’ sometimes,” he's tries to calm you.

“But none of us are perfect and you ain't any different. Hell, it might even be good for you” his attempt at comfort didn't seem to be working. In fact he might have made it worse, given how you turned further away from him.

“It’s not just because it's embarrassing! I- I just don't want to tell everyone!” you answer through a tightening voice. There's a pause as Angel considers your words before he speaks again.

“Then you don't gotta tell everyone. You can just tell me” He was surprised when the offer had you turning back to him, though your discomfort was still evident. You didn't say anything at first but eventually you found the words.

“...Promise you won't tell anybody?” he fought the urge to roll his eyes. He was sure you were being overdramatic. You probably told a little lie that got out of control or accidentally kicked a puppy or-

“Promise” he answered anyway.

And so you told him

“I…I was tired of him touching me” Angel’s stomach immediately drops at just those few words. All of his previous downplaying caused an explosion of guilt within him.

“He was always touching. Every day since I was little. Every time he was over, every time I was alone. I couldn't- I…I just wanted it to be over”

He knew where this was going.

“I-I snapped. I just couldn't take it anymore. Eighteen fucking years” your voice is a mix of rage and pain, a sound he didn't think you capable of until now.

“I'd never been so angry. I didn't- I didn't know what I was doing until it was over. There was blood everywhere- I killed him and…and I couldn't live with myself. I'd never done something like that before! I'd never hurt anyone! I couldn't live with that- I couldn't-”

Before you can spiral any further you feel Angels hand land on yours. With slow, purposeful movements he pulled you into his arms. You freeze for a moment, caught entirely off guard by the sudden comfort. He was careful not to hold you too tight and keep his breaths steady. Keep himself predictable.

“S’okay kid…You didn't do a damn thing wrong” his whispered words break through your shock, melting you into a pile of sobs in his arms, gripping onto him like your very soul depended on it.

After that night the two of you quickly become known for your fierce protectiveness over each other. Angel swears that if he ever sees the bastard he'll rip him a new asshole before shoving a spike in it.

Lucifer Morningstar

You were one of many assistants to Lucifer, helping him with the many tasks he doesn't ever keep up with as the king of hell. You are most likely ignored and/or forgotten about for a while. He is far too, uh…busy for remembering much of anything, let alone names and job titles.

However you do manage to catch his eyes when he finally notices your apparent lack of any sort of social life in hell. Unlike the others he has working for him who seem all too happy to indulge in hells many depraved luxuries, you aren't one of them.

It triggers his curiosity, so he starts to remember your name and even manages to strike up conversations with you that don't sound like he's desperately trying to remember who he's even talking to.

You begin to be the first person he goes to when he needs something done and in turn you go to him when you need something as well. It's never anything too much, he notices. Always just small tasks that take him almost no effort at all. But you seem to beam at even the smallest kindness.

But then there is that ill-fated night…

It was late and you were still hard at work in your office.

Or at least you would have been, if you didn't feel like the weight of everything was weighing down on you as you stared down the two items Lucifer had left for you. A small note and a tiny rubber duck. You kept re-reading the note over and over again.

‘You're a good kid, Y/n. Keep it up’

The small gesture had formed a sickening guilt in you. You were the farthest thing from good. What you had done rightfully landed you in the shithole you belonged in. You didn't deserve his kindness, let alone his care. You felt so guilty for ever allowing him to think that you-

A knock at your door has you quickly wiping away your tears. Before you can say anything he opens it, his wide smile falling immediately.

“Oh no, what-” he pauses when he sees the death grip you have on the rubber duck he'd gifted, your eyes unable to even glance at him. He gives a nervous laugh at that. It sounds more worried than anything.

“You uh- don't like the gift, I take it?” At that your head whips to look at him, an attempt to calm your nerves written all over your face.

“No! No that's not-…no” your frantic words die down quickly as you quickly turn away again, unable to look the man in the eyes. There is a long silence that feels almost like an eternity passing. Then, to your complete surprise, he slowly pulls up a chair next to you, his eyes not turning from you for even a moment.

“Do you…maybe wanna talk about what it is then?” His voice is disarming, a mix of poorly feigned calm and genuine concern. It frightens you how quickly he makes you want to spill your guts.

“It's- I’m not-” You pause, trying to collect your words. You know then that you can't bear to tell him anything but the truth.

“I don't deserve this” you gesture to the toy and his letter. He doesn't seem to understand.

“You? Y/n, you're practically the only reason I get any work done around here! The least I can do is this, truly. Why wouldn't you deserve it?” His tone is full of disbelief, almost entirely sure that you must be avoiding telling him the entire truth.

“Because it isn't true” the bluntness of your words catches him off guard.

“I killed him and…and it felt good when I did it. It felt good to hurt him like he hurt me, it felt good being in control. It didn't feel bad when I put that knife through his throat, It didn't feel bad when I finally got him to stop touching me. It didn't…until it was over” the tears that had brimmed at your eyes fell like rivers, your attempts to wipe them away fruitless. You didn't dare look him in the eye, even as you continued.

“There was so much blood. I…I didn't know what to do. I- I didn't mean- no, no I did. But I just couldn't live with it. I couldn't live knowing that I killed him and that all I could think about was that he'd never touch me again! I couldn't-!” your words are cut off by the feeling of arms wrapping around you. For a moment you freeze, confused and horrified by the action, that is until the comfort of it seeps into you, knowing that the hands that held you now meant no harm. After that you sobbed into him.

Only once you'd calmed your sobs to hiccups and your grip loosened did he finally pull away. But he didn't go far and his eyes looked at you with nothing but pure concern.

“You listen to me, okay? I would never hold that against you. I couldn't if I tried. You did what you had to and I trust that you did it for the right reasons” his words of forgiveness strike through you, hitting you directly in your wounded heart. Never before had you believed anyone could look so kindly upon you knowing what you'd done.

After that day Lucifer had become quite father-like to you, treating you just like he would his own kid. You practically become an honorary Morningstar.

Alastor

You and Alastor have an…interesting relationship. the two of you very likely met at the hotel, considering he wouldn't have given you a second glance otherwise. You were, after all, just one of the many other souls, and not an impressive one at that. Meek, young and weak.

It takes a long while for Alastor to warm up to you, most likely because you avoid him at all cost. You learn quickly that Alastor doesn't like being avoided like that when he begins to follow you around.

It's through conversation that he grows interested in you. When you aren't blinded by your fear he's actually a great conversationalist, especially when he's alone with you. It seems almost like he drops a bit of his guard as well, something you explain away as you being of zero threat to him. The two of you often talk of your plans for the day and whatever latest idea Charlie has conjured. Small talk, for the most part. Never anything personal

Which is why you are so caught off guard when he asks the truthfully inevitable question.

It was a usual calm morning in the hotel kitchen. A bit of smooth jazz played from an old radio, the coffee machine churned, the constant static from Alastor flowed through the room and the sound of idle chit-chat passed between the two of you. Besides the fact that no one else joined the two of you, it all seemed relatively normal.

“I must say, for someone in Hell you have quite the kind heart, my dear. One might even ask how you managed to get yourself down here” Alastors words cause your heart to sink almost immediately. Your body tenses, your breathing catching for just a moment. You make sure to keep your eyes on the coffee pot and manage to give him a halfhearted laugh. But you know the moment he goes quiet for just that second too long that he noticed.

“How did you end up down here, if you don't mind telling me?” You feel your tongue go dry, your jaw clench, your entire being beg to leave this conversation. But you knew there wasn't a chance in all of Hell that you'd get out of this. If he didn't get an answer now he'd be sure to get one later.

“I uh…” you start, nausea threatening to crawl in.

“I don't know” you try to answer, hoping beyond hope that it would satisfy him.

It did not.

“Now now, one mustn't feel the need to lie to friends. I assure you I've seen worse than whatever it is you managed to do!” You pause at his words, finally turning over your shoulder to look at him.

“We’re…friends?” You ask, surprised to see him look almost just as confused by your words.

“Why of course! The both of us have quite nice talks with one another, why wouldn't we be?” He seems so confident as he speaks. Despite how skeptical you've been ever since meeting him, you can't help but feel that he might genuinely be growing on you. Fuck, you might even trust the guy. Not with your soul, mind you, but you were sure at least your words would be safe with him.

“Out with it then, what got you sent down to this lovely pit of fire and brimstone?” his tone is jovial and light, not taking this nearly as seriously as you felt he should be. You were weirded out when it actually helped you calm down a little.

“Well…” should you tell him? Would he even care? Would he blink an eye at your suffering? Would he laugh at you? All the possibilities ran through your head at once.

When you finally turned to face him he gave you an expectant look, fully anticipating an answer from you. So you took a deep breath and turned your head to gaze at a nearby wall before beginning.

“My uncle, he um…well he didn't really know how to keep his hands to himself. Ever since I first met the man he wouldn't keep his damn hands off me. Then mom died and I had to live with him and…” you pause a moment, trying to keep yourself together. With a deep breath you continued.

“He never stopped touching me. No one believed me, no one did anything. Not when I was eight, or ten, or fifteen. Not after either. I was just alone with him. Every day of every month of every year…until I couldn't take it anymore” your voice was quiet now, just above a whisper to keep it from shaking.

“I was cooking dinner when he came behind me and-…I snapped and…well I'm not really sure. I just remember being covered in blood and knowing that no one would believe me. So I did what I thought was the only thing I could do. Next thing I knew I found out I had been damned for all eternity” you hugged yourself in an attempt at comfort that wasn't working. You managed, by the smallest effort, to keep your tears in and your breath steady, but you knew you'd break at any moment. When you turned to him, his smile still plastered and staring blankly at you, you thought you just might have done so then. So you quickly turned back around to save yourself the embarrassment.

“But yeah. Pretty sure that's why I'm here-”

“That was quite brave of you” his words shock you still enough that you might have even felt your heart stop. Your head snaps back to him in an instant, unsure if you'd heard him right. He's standing now, smile just a little less wide and leaning on his cane. If you didn't know any better you might have mistaken it for a look of uncanny care.

“What?” You whisper the word. He stands a little taller at that.

“When the world stops caring then one must simply make it. Very few do so, and so I applaud your effort in taking fate into your own hands” he is serious, almost deathly so. His words aren’t what you expected, but they are actually some of the most comforting you'd ever heard. Not only because he believed you, but because he truly believed you'd done the right thing.

“...Thank you” his smile widens again and you catch how ever so slightly bigger his antlers have gotten and the small flicks of green that seem to only show in your peripheral. You choose not to say anything about it.

“Of course! Now I simply must be on my way! There is much to do and so little time. Have a pleasant rest of your morning!” he was out the door before you even realized he was leaving. You would have said goodbye yourself if you didn't know he was already gone. And without his coffee too!

After this little incident Alastor seems almost tied at your hip. You are warned time and time again not to get too close to him but after the way he took the news of your sin you honestly don't think you could push him away. He was the first person you'd ever told in Hell, the first person to ever believe you. And given how keen he is on keeping you safe both in and out of the hotel you are quite happy to call him a friend.

Vox

The only way you'd be able to get even a second glance from Vox is if you worked for him and, let's be real, he couldn't have given less of a shit about you when he first met you. You were one out of thousands that worked on his many, many projects. You were lucky if he ever even read your name, let alone remembered it.

It takes quite the circumstance for him to notice you and it's likely only because of very selfish reasons. Maybe he picks you out of the crowd as a gag at first. The big CEO talking to this meek little low life, giving them a glance at something they'll never achieve.

But Vox has a way of getting attached to the strangest things sometimes and you end up being among them. Maybe it's the way you go along with whatever he's saying, playing to his ego. Maybe it's the way he knows you don't mean a single word and he feels he has to prove himself. Or maybe he just liked having a bit of a babyface around to impress. Either way, he ends up kind of taking you in.

You become a sort of protege to Vox as he teaches you all about his company and how to run it; mostly so he can hand you the tasks of the day that he doesn't feel like handling. You're a secretary of sorts. He does, however, try to keep a distance between you and the other V’s. Mostly because he knows they can be a bit much and he doesn't want to scare you off just yet.

But it's inevitable that you would meet them someday. And, as he expected, the first meeting didn't go very well.

You and Vox were on your way down the hall in the middle of idle conversation that was mostly work related. You liked having these conversations with him, mostly because he always seemed so pleased when you'd give him an idea he liked or a change he'd consider. You felt useful in a way you hadn't really ever felt before-

“My my, if it isn't Vox and his new little pet” the voice speaks behind you and both you and Vox turn to see who it is. You are set on edge when Vox gets suddenly nervous.

“Val! I thought you had work down in the studio today?” Vox’s voice booms in the way you know he only does when he's trying to keep his cool. You make sure to stand a little closer to him when Val walks up to the two of you.

“You've been hiding from me, love. So I figured I'd pay a visit. Good thing too” the moth man leans down to you so close you feel your entire being beg to disappear.

“I wouldn’t have met the darling that's been keeping Voxy so occupied. Cosita bonita” he looks down at you, his smile alone sending a cold shiver up your spine. He grabs your hand and instead of doing anything normal like shaking or kissing it, he instead begins to lick up your arm.

“Rumor has it your little fall from grace betrays how sweet as you look” Horrified and feeling very familiar fear consume your being, you freeze up. Luckily, and rather surprisingly, Vox very quickly pulls him away from you.

“Alright, alright that's enough of that!” his tone is that of a light reprimand, though the swirls in his eyes betray him. He effortlessly spins the moth man around in something similar to a dance, ending with the two of them facing away from you. Whispered words are exchanged, Val glancing back at you for only a moment afterwards before walking off with no complaint.

Vox straightens his suit, his performative smile falling for a moment before turning back to you.

“Let's get back on our way” he beckons you as he continues to walk. You follow along, compliant as ever. He leads you to an elevator where the two of you get in and he clicks whatever floor he'd decided he had work on. You think everything is relatively normal until, with a wave of his hand, the elevator stops.

“What did he mean?” The question confuses you.

“...about what?” You ask, unsure what he was getting at. He turns to you.

“About your ‘fall from grace', what was he getting at?” the realization dawns on you the same way acid would drip into an old wound. There was really only one thing that could mean and the fact that a man you'd never met knew enough to mention it made you sick to your stomach.

“Kid?” He calls to you and it's only then you notice tears build in your eyes. You quickly blink them away before making sure to avoid looking in his general direction.

“I…don't know” you tried, very unconvincingly, to feign ignorance. Unfortunately that didn't go over well with him.

“I don't think I've met a worse liar in the entirety of Hell than you” he states plainly and you can't help but agree. You hadn't really ever had practice in the field. Yet even with his call on your bullshit you chose to stay silent.

“Look, If Val knows then chances are I'm finding out anyway. He's not exactly great at keeping his mouth shut” he tries to convince an answer out of you but his words only make it worse. You didn't want that creep to know in the first place! But, being ever so horrible at keeping such a cold front up, you break under his gaze.

“It’s why I'm in Hell” you start off vague and you notice how he leans in just a bit closer.

“Seriously? That's what's got you upset? What, was it embarrassing? Because believe me, I'm sure I've heard worse” he was really trying to sell you that notion, what with the wide smile and undivided attention, but you couldn't help the nagging voice that told you he wouldn't believe you.

But still, you assumed it better he heard it from you than Val. After all, you and Vox were pretty close at this point. If there was anyone that you'd tell, it would be him.

“No it's- well it is embarrassing, but-” you stammer a moment, trying to find the right way to say it. Soon enough you fix your eyes on the metal doors and just spill.

“I had an uncle. I lived with him for a while, most of my human life really. And he uh…I was just a kid at the time and he- he couldn't keep his hands to himself. Just kept…touching me. For years” the way the information pours out of you is forced. Like you have to pry it from your own mind and shove it out your throat. But there was no point stopping now.

“And then I just couldn't take it anymore. I don't even really know what happened. One second I was cooking dinner and the next he came behind me and…and then everything was bloody and…” you trail for a moment, your mind brought back to that horrific memory. Without a thought you finally turn to Vox.

He looks completely deflated, stripped of that egocentric smile of his and leaving nothing but a shocked still expression in its place. His mouth hangs slightly open as if to say something, but no words come. You feel your tears sting your eyes at the sight.

“No one believed me when I told them what he was doing, no one believed me when I told them for how long. So I knew when I killed him it would just be the same. That they'd make him a martyr and I'd be the villain and- and I couldn't deal with that! I- I didn't want to live through that again!” your voice raises at the end, voice pleading to be listened to, to be believed. Fuck, even just heard.

You get what you ask for with his stunned silence and tense posture. After a moment though you can't help but feel like you want to take your words back, his silence disturbing you greatly.

Just as you're about to ask him to forget what he'd heard, to pretend like you hadn't ever said anything and move on like normal, his hands reach slowly for you. The movement confuses you so greatly that you don't even think to stop him when he silently pulls you into him. You stand rigid for a long moment before, bit by bit, melting into sobs. He holds you tighter in the silence of the elevator and you can't help but grip onto him like your afterlife depended on it.

It's after this that Vox becomes fiercely protective of you. It's incredibly strange for everyone, including yourself. He is adamant that it's just because you know so much about his company, that it's all purely business. But when you think back to that day in the elevator you can't help but believe that he might just actually care about you.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel & reader #alastor & reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar & reader #vox & reader #angel dust & reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel vox & reader #hazbin hotel angel dust & reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #platonic hazbin hotel #Hazbin hotel & you #gn reader

[kookslastbutton]

Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | chapter one

✑ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?

pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader

genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love,

word count: 6.5k+

warnings: oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, body insecurities, fear of being blacklisted, emotionally restrained yoon, unstable parental relationships, conservative parents, rude Hybe executive that should be fired, bestie!tae is wonderful support 🥹, and cute yoon and oc interactions bc yeah....its thier first time actually meeting so it must be cute!

now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets

a/n: YAHHH chapter one!! Ok i apologize if the meeting is so long and drawn out...I really tried to make it fun but so much info is needed too haha. Anyway this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and sorta beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!

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Winter in Seoul feels like stepping onto the set of your most beloved holiday film.

As the brisk air wraps around you, delicate snowflakes gather atop your head, urging you to cocoon in your finest wool trench coat. Yet, despite the chill, the sight of frost-bitten trees basking in the morning's golden rays offers a source of warmth and delight. Perhaps the most radiant tree of them all is the towering Christmas tree that sits proudly in the heart of the city. Adorned with shimmering red and gold baubles, the giant evergreen catches the eye of every person that walks by–both tourists and locals alike.

Nearby shopping malls buzz with holiday fervor too as shoppers scour for treasures, couples engage in friendly competition to find the ultimate gift, and children line up to take their picture with Santa. But the best part is when night falls. The whole city comes alive with joy and laughter as loved ones meet one another on the ice-skating rinks, while karaoke bars echo tipsy renditions of timeless songs sung by overworked professionals, each with a bottle of soju in hand.

Yes, Seoul is a place for making memories and you’re in the thick of it.

Having been in the city for three years, one might assume you’ve become well accustomed to the energy of the season. You've really grown to love it here. But adjusting to the new environment is still proving to be a challenge, the most outstanding being the prevailing beauty standards.

Massive billboards featuring stunning models serve as constant reminders of the type of beauty one should aim to achieve as you commute to work. Impossible to miss are the shining examples themselves – iconic k-pop groups Seventeen, Red Velvet, EXO, BlackPink, Mamamoo, TXT, and of course BTS plastered on the side of every flat surface imaginable. You’re not exactly complaining about that aspect as you’ve helped design a good handful of them as a top marketing and advertising professional. But the strict image of what constitutes a beautiful and worthy individual weighs on you more than you’d like.

While a conventional body type isn’t what you’ve been given in this life, you don’t consider yourself to be completely unattractive either. Having high cheekbones, a strong jawline, striking light brown eyes, good enough ass, and a full chest shouldn’t classify as undesirable. Still, you wish you’d adopt this more body positive mindset rather than your current overthinking one. It’s easier said than done, being that you not only see idols everyday on the streets in digital form but at work as well.

You continue further into city until a set of tall, glass doors meet you mere steps away. You tilt your head back to catch the name of the skyscraper before nearing the building’s sturdy, silver handle.

BigHit Music.

Feeling its cool metal under your fingertips, the door swings open with an easier pull than imagined to welcome you into the bustling lobby. You feel a rush of confidence return to you upon entering– this is your domain, this is where you truly shine.

“Did you get the files I sent to you?”

The woman nods her head in affirmation while sweeping a few pieces of her long, silky hair behind an ear. To strangers, she appears to look about 24 which is only four years younger than yourself but nonetheless she’s the same age as you. Hei-Ran is her name, meaning “graceful orchid” according to Korean translation.

Hei-ran is one of Hybe’s newest hires and based on her experience, a near perfect fit to being South Korean boy group Tomorrow X Together’s new marketing manager. Until about three months ago, this had been your job.

You never imagined giving up the position after three years of working in the role. But with December right around the corner Hybe had other plans for you.

"Graduated summa cum laude with a bachelors degree in BTech in Electrical and Electronics Engineering and a MBA in Marketing from NYU Stern. You worked two years as a brand manager for U.S record label Atlantic Records immediately after graduating, and are now working at BigHit Music as a marketing manager for TXT including liaison with their global marketing team.”

You recall Bang PD's voice vibrate in the back of your mind from mid-August. You thought you were called into his office to discuss details of TXT’s latest promo, so having your resume read back to you was a sweeping curve ball. Your determination must have far exceeded the heaviness you felt in your chest because before you knew it you, you were shaking hands with your boss in acceptance of your role – the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour.

The tedious knot that’s formed in the nape of your neck reminds you that as surreal as the situation might be, it’s undeniably real.

Months spent drafting a comprehensive marketing proposal for D-Day; often until the wee hours of the night, inevitably takes its toll on even the mightiest of warriors. An entire new team of fifty people, all of who you’ll be in charge of orchestrating for the next eight months, doesn’t provide much to relief either.

You’re excited nevertheless. Working with one of the most respected artists in the music industry is an opportunity you couldn’t let slip by, especially since the album’s rock-inspired genre aligns closely with your own music taste.

“Thank you so much for helping me get settled __,” Hei-ran’s gentle voice returns you to the present. “I appreciate the time you’ve taken these last few months to train me despite the tight deadlines you have.”

Smiling, you shake your head. “It’s no problem at all and if there’s anything you need in the future, feel free to give me a call or stop by my office.”

“On the 16th floor right?”

“1656A. Take a left off the elevator and walk to the end of the first hallway. The door on the right is mine.”

Referring to any room on the 16th floor as your own is something you don’t take lightly. For one the offices are double the size of any other office spaces in the building. Yours in particular has a giant skyscraper window draped with heavy white curtains. Secondly, the floor above is the 17th floor which is exclusive to Hybe artists only.

"How's the proposal coming along, by the way?" Her curiosity is palpable, genuine in its nature. You’ve always appreciated that in an individual.

“It’s done,” you respond. “Only thing left to do is to prepare for our meeting with C-suite executives next Monday. It’s nearly perfect as is, but the presentation could use a bit of refining in terms of organization.”

Hei-ran is silent for a moment longer than usual before her next inquiry, which is undoubtedly the question on both of your minds. “I can't help but wonder what it'll be like to meet him for the first time,” she muses.

You don’t bother asking for clarification on who the “him” is; you’re already well aware that it’s Min Yoongi. The same subject has managed to intrude your own thoughts more and more as the date of meeting him draws closer. It's peculiar honestly, considering you’ve encountered him before.

Granted, it was only a small handful of times the hallway, both heading in opposite directions. Min Yoongi typically greeted you with a hoarse 'Good Morning' those instances, along with a curt nod of his head. You would nod back with a brief 'Morning' yourself. Deep down you feel he'd make a quality friend, though it's only a premonition. It’s not like you actually know much about him beyond those small exchanges.

"I'm not sure what to expect, honestly," you admit. "I imagine it'll be similar to previous professional collaborations—composed, focused, and intense. D-Day is poised to become a global sensation for the next year, so it's going to need our full, undivided attention."

Hei-ran gives a knowing nod. “Good luck __,” she wishes you well as you head towards the elevator doors. Breaks over, back to work.

After another late-night prep session for Monday’s D-Day proposal, you trudge through your apartment door well past 8:30 pm with an empty stomach and a throbbing headache. Good news is that your graphic design team seems to be well on track with their album mockups ready to present.

The same can’t be said for your U.S. promo team however, who required additional guidance on their projects. The social media team was in a similar boat. Somehow several of their members lost track of time and were convinced the proposal was still two weeks away.

Despite the hiccups, you managed to tie up the loose ends, but it meant that none of you got to leave early.

When you finally get to curl up in your fluffy sofa, a loud, exasperated sigh leaves your lips. Your lids flutter shut too as you rest your head against the soft cushion. Silently, you make one last mental rundown of all the tasks you checked off today.

Did you miss anything?

D-Day is the most crucial project you’ve ever taken charge of—you need it to be flawless.

When nothing pressing comes to mind, you grab the tv remote from your dark oak coffee table and aimlessly flip through the channels. You’ll unwind for an hour and then call it a night.

Ten minutes into an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and the light chime of your phone's notification bell catches your ear.

Tae 💚: Haven’t heard from you all day. Everything alright?

Taehyung, your best friend. You smile fondly at his message as your thumbs hover over the reply button. He's always checking in on you. You and Taehyung have been friends ever since you first moved to Seoul and started working at Hybe. You didn't expect your friendship to become this strong, but both of you are sociable individuals, which led to discovering several unexpected commonalities. One of those is a shared love for jazz, which has been one of your all-time favorite genres for as long as you can remember.

You: yeah, I’m good. Just tired. Been working on D-Day's proposal for months and finally got it fully prepped for.

Tae 💚: Well, that's amazing news! You feel good about it?

You: I don't know. I’m definitely ready for this project but I’m also starting to feel a little burned out. The proposal is only the beginning you know, and it's already taking the wind out of me.

Tae 💚: Sorry to hear that 😞 I'm sure it must be draining, but I also know this is your territory. No one is more fit to head this project than you. Everyone thinks so. How about you take the weekend to rest?

You: Yeah...I'm watching B99 rn

Tae 💚: B99?! Without me?

You can't help but giggle. Somehow over the course of three years you've roped your best friend into becoming obsessed with your mindless sitcoms. You've done more than a handful of binge watching together, until all hours of the night.

You: Wanna come over for an hour?

The company might be nice.

Tae 💚: Be there in 20 🏃

Your door bells rings exactly twenty minutes after you and Taehyng finish exchanging texts. He's so prompt it scares you sometimes.

“Hey.” His deep, baritone voice greets you first, along with a friendly hug. Taehyung slips his snow covered boots off upon entering your apartment and hangs his wool jacket on your coat rack. His limited edition Gucci scarf is next. Taehyung loves the winter as it’s the time he can wear his most luxurious clothes.

“What’s this?” You peak inside a brown paper bag that Taehyung has conveniently set on your kitchen countertop. He flashes you a playful grin and gestures you to open it. Naturally, you're suspicious but it all washes away when a new, unopened bottle of whiskey presents itself. “Oh my god, you didn’t!" You swat his arm in a rush of excitement.

“I had to!" Taehyung opens a kitchen cupboard and grabs a glass from the top shelf. He's been in your apartment enough times that he’s grown comfortable with your place. That and he's also your best friend.

"With all the recent events you've had going on, I think it calls for a celebration." Taehyung expertly pours you a glass of the smooth, rich liquor and offers it to you.

“Thank you, Tae," you say, taking the glass from his hand. "Come sit down. Jake's about to sing I Want It That Way with the police lineup.” Taehyung pours himself a glass of Pinot Noir and follows your lead.

After about forty minutes of sitcoms and booze with your best friend you begin to feel yourself relaxing. Whatever challenges lies ahead, you know you'll be able to handle them one whiskey at a time.

All stream of thought is interrupted when your phone dings off again. It's now half past 9, who on earth is trying to reach you?

Fuck.

You tighten the grip on your phone as soon aa the message appears. Taehyung, previously occupied by the end credit scene, catches the sudden shift in your demeanor and calls your name but he's inaudible to you.

Mom: It’s been almost two weeks since we last heard from you. We know you're busy but your father and I want to know if you’ll be coming home. The holidays are coming up right? Why don't you use some of that time to come see us? There's someone we want you to meet.

"__, who is it?" Taehyung's voice manages to break your intense concentration.

“Just my mom.” You answer briefly, still averting eye contact.

“What’d she say?”

“She wants me to come home for the holidays.” You shut your phone off in an effort to calm yourself.

Unlike Taehyung your relationship with your parents has always been rocky. Expectations are set high from birth and you never see eye to eye. Likely, the only accomplishment that's earned genuine praise from them was when you accepted your initial job proposal with Hybe. A respectable career is only second to health to them after all. Your father was more torn with the news that you’d be moving hundreds of miles away than your mom however, not that you’re surprised.

Of course while having a healthy and respectable career is priority for your parents, there is no mistake that their greatest wish is to see their daughter married. A stable man with ample resources to provide her a secure home and healthy children is preferable.

You love your parents and you'll always be there for them, but you must admit that their traditional outlook is one you can never live up to. They tried setting you up dozens of times before, and tonight's request to have you come home "for the holidays to meet someone” is simply another attempt to marry you off.

Yes, you would like some sort of companionship in your life and you hope if you find it that they’ll approve. But giving your hand in marriage to the first notable suitor isn't your forte. You consider yourself to be an independent woman with a tender heart, and you'd rather be single for the entirety of your life than be forced into another obligation.

Preserving your independence is highly important to you. So no, you draw the line when it comes to relational affairs.

If only you could be firm and repeat all the above to them aloud, rather than within your own head— if only.

“So are you gonna go?"

You don't respond immediately, still weighing out your options. "Not sure," you murmur. "I don't really want to but maybe I should. I haven't gone home to see my parents since last year."

Taehyung recognizes the growing tension in your voice as well as the flushed expression playing on your face. He wishes he could take it all away but instead he moves closer to your side of the sofa and lets you rest your head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." He's silent for a moment before continuing. "Why don't you tell them you can't go because of work? There must be a number of things you'll need to get ahead of for Yoongi's album."

"True. But it's too easy, they won't buy that. I have to go."

"What if you say I invited you to celebrate with my family this year? We're going to a nice, cozy cabin a few hours north of here for Christmas."

The offer is temping and you know he means it but it's also not enough.

"No," you reject. "They'll think we're dating and ask to meet you."

"I'll do it!" Taehyung's voice lifts into a more playful tone, earning a soft chuckle from you.

"Very cute Taetae, but no. Neither of us are going to say 'that was a good idea' in the end, trust me. I'll have to make this decision on my own."

Taehyung grimaces slightly at your last choice of words. "I really think you should consider telling them you can't due to a full schedule. We don't get that much time off at the company any way. Don't your parents live at least 7-10 hours away? Come on, spend the holidays with me and the guys. Plus, it'll be my birthday soon. I want you there at my party."

When you look at your best friend to gently scold him for not so sneakily using the guilt tripping technique, he's pouting. Like a baby. Not even you can resist him with that face on.

"Fine. I'll think about it."

"Good," Taehyung chirps and snatches the tv remote to flip through episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. "I want you to be around those closest to you, especially around the holidays. You're my badass best friend who deserves more than some stupid forced marriage to a guy with an unhealthy alpha male complex. Should we top the night off with one more episode by the way?"

You nod and Taehyung hits play on the remote. "Thank you," you coo, feeling a tad better.

The weekend is a blur at best and you’re back at the office before you realize. Of course this is no ordinary work day however, given that today signifies the day you officially start work as D-Day’s marketing director. You’ve been perfecting every detail of the proposal like a madman since the beginning, meticulously obessing over every element. Your new team members must have a pretty eye-opening understanding of what it’ll be like having you as a lead for the next year–you pity them to be honest.

Between your fingers clutches a small tube of lip balm, berry flavored with a faint tint to match. You love chapstick for some odd, inexplainable reason and you felt the need to apply a generous amount of it on your lips for good luck.

“No one’s here yet,” Yi-joon, one of the members of your graphic design team, speaks first upon stepping foot into your assigned conference room. Others hum, unsurprised. Being the ones leading the presentation, you’d be startled if anyone actually arrived beforehand.

A grand mahogany table, seating up to 14 individuals, boasts itself to you in the middle of the room with every chair lined in genuine black leather. Traditional seating arrangements have one chair at the head of the table, but today’s meeting has two, both positioned to face the wide presentation screen at the opposite end.

Undoubtably, they’re reserved for Bang PD and Min Yoongi.

A momentary shiver courses down your spine, yet fades quick when one of your team members asks if anyone's seen the remote to the projector. There’s no time for nerves to be acting up, you remind yourself calmly. Only 15 minutes remain until every C-suite executive in Hybe congregates into the room.

With a composed demeanor, you swiftly gather your thoughts and respond, "Try checking inside the podium. It's likely close by, but if not, we can always power it on manually." You then start delegating tasks to the rest of your team, mentally rehearsing key points of the proposal between each instruction.

Time appears to have vanished in the blink of an eye because in a matter of seconds a gentle breeze slips through the conference door, accompanied by the arrival of several Hybe executives. You offer a polite "good morning," which is briefly reciprocated as they take their respective seats around the conference table.

You count twelve at the table in total, including your own team.

"Sajangnim should be here in about–"

Hybe's Chief Finance Officer doesn't get to finish his sentence when an older gentleman in a freshly pressed suit walks through the door, fully immersed in conversation. The person following close behind him is none other than the man of the hour himself–Min Yoongi, fitted in a clean white dress shirt that's unbuttoned at the collar and sleeves rolled to the elbows. His soft, raven hair falls gently in front of his eyes, framing his face a little too well.

Unexpectedly, both your gazes shift from Bang PD and onto one another. His dark, intense eyes pierce through you as they observe you from the opposite side of the room. You're certain he recognizes you from your previous shared encounters, though you don't have the slightest clue what he's thinking. Min Yoongi has been known to be many things, but an open book isn't one of them.

He then walks in your direction until he's directly toe to toe with you for the very first time. Completely against your wishes, you feel all the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. You've never officially met before.

"It's nice to finally meet you __-nim. Those nods we give each other in the hallway hardly count as a proper introduction." He extends a hand to you, offering you a sturdy handshake which you accept.

"Absolutely, it's a pleasure to meet you as well Min PD-nim," you say, smiling warmly. "I'm looking forward to working with you on your new album. I truly appreciate the opportunity."

For a split second, Yoongi allows his professional demeanor drop. "I should be the one thanking you. You'll be the one leading this whole operation right? So I'll be in your care."

You want to respond with gratitude, but you're not given the chance due to an authoritative voice speaking up from behind.

"Min PD-nim," Hybe's Vice President calls out to the man in front of you, requesting his attention.

Yoongi is hesitant to leave you mid-conversation but you assure him that it's alright. "Please, feel free to take a seat," you offer. "The presentations will begin soon."

A small, subtle smile graces Yoongi's lips before he turns around to take his seat beside Bang PD at the head of the table. He engages in small talk with Hybe's Vice President who's conveniently seated across from him. Yet despite their conversation, he's only half focused; his eyes repeatedly wandering back to you. At this point, however, you've already stopped looking at him.

"Good morning, all," you address the room when the time comes to commence the meeting. "We'll be getting started now that everyone's here. I'm sending down samples of the album design our graphics team has created for D-Day. Please pass them along." You hand the stack of copies to Hybe's Chief Technology Officer who smiles courteously.

"On behalf of my team and me, I want to thank you for joining us today to discuss our marketing strategy for Min PD-nim's upcoming D-Day album. Our agenda will be as follows," you guide everyone's attention to the presentation board, which provides a rundown of all the points you plan to cover for the remainder of the meeting.

"Let's begin with introductions. My name is ___ ___, I hold a Bachelor's degree in Electrical and Electronics Engineering from NYU Stern, as well as an MBA in Marketing. Over the past five years, I've worked in the music industry as a marketing manager. Three of those years were spent here at Hybe. The recent promotional campaign for TXT's The Chaos Chapter was lead by my previous team and me, resulting in a positive return on investment. Now, with a new team, I aim to achieve similar success with Min PD-nim's D-Day album."

Once you finish your introduction, you introduce each member of your team. This is soon followed by a brief introduction from each c-suite executive.

The whole room falls silent when you begin diving into the bulk of the proposal; every measurable objective, goal, and market analysis is shared for D-Day. When it comes time to present the brand guide and album design, you invite your graphics team to speak.

"You'll notice that we have two versions of Min PD-nim's albums on the sheet in front of you," Yi-joon refers to the mockups you handed out earlier. A few executives nod quietly as they study the proposed album packaging while Yoongi leans over to Bang PD. He's whispering something but you're far to distant away to hear. His expressions aren't telling either.

Does he like it? Does he not? You don't know.

Nevertheless, you give a subtle smile to Yi-joon as encouragement to continue.

 "We've opted for a sleek, pitch-black design for the first version, and a dusty brown for the second. The first version symbolizes the past, characterized by societal expectations and internal struggles, while the second represents the present and future, conveying a message of liberation. To complement these themes, we've selected a bold and daring font to exude the album's transparency. This design consistency extends to the album's contents; for instance, lyrical cards will reflect the respective color and style of the version they belong to."

Hybe's Chief Marketing Officer appears to be in approval with the entirety of the plan so far, yet it's short lived when a low voice interrupts.

"I think the vision of album's design aligns closely with mine, so I like what I see in front of me." Yoongi pauses and places the mockup on the table. "There's one aspect that I'd like to discuss in hopes of some insight however. I've been mauling over it for a while now."

"I'll do my best to–" Hybe's Chief Marketing Officer opens his mouth to respond yet closes it immediately when he notices Yoongi's gaze sharply shifts to you. It's a signal that it's your insight he specifically requests.

"Please go on," you reply.

"Regarding the name under which the album should be released, should it be 'Agust D' or 'Suga'? I'm personally biased towards Agust D because it holds more weight for me. It's close to my heart and the stories I have to tell as Agust D are heavier than those of Suga, right? The D even stands for Daegu, my hometown where I grew up and where my parents still live. Suga on the other hand is my stage name, which I have some identity in as well."

You don't answer immediately, preferring to carefully process everything he's said. Your team has already proposed to release the album under 'Agust D', yet he makes a valid point that 'Suga' is also a part of him.

"I understand that releasing the album under 'Suga' has its merit. However, I still support the original idea of releasing it under 'Agust D'. As you've mentioned, the name carries a deeper meaning, evoking memories, emotions, trials, and tribulations. I'd also like to emphasize that by releasing D-Day under 'Agust D', you can showcase who the real Agust D is. The collaboration with IU in People Pt. 2 already has you one step in that door."

Like you, Yoongi considers your words cautiously, weighing them in his mind. "Thank you ___-nim," he finally speaks. "Your perspective is reassuring. We'll proceed with releasing the album under 'Agust D'.

Following your short discussion, the graphics team continues presenting their design materials. Minor comments are made by Hybe executives, but Yoongi doesn't comment again until half-way into the social media segment.

"Why do we need to schedule this many Weverse Lives? People might get tired of seeing my face after so many in a row. ARMY will read, 'Min Yoongi started a live' and say to their friends, 'This is the fifth time in a row, is he in love with his own voice or something?'." His joke sparks a light in the room as Bang PD gives a chuckle.

"I don't think that's going to be an issue for you Yoongi," he replies. "Don't you know the strength of your own fanbase?" Bang PD's statement is undeniable. Everyone in the room is well aware of Min Yoongi's international fanbase who willingly stay up all hours of the night just to catch a glimpse of him. In fact, rather than seeing less of him, they hope to receive his live notifications more, as Yoongi isn't as active on Weverse as other idols.

It's clear that compliments like these aren't easy for Yoongi to take though, judging by the flushed look that subtly sweeps over his face. You'd react the same way to be honest.

"If I may Min PD-nim," you speak up, deciding to offer an alternative plan. "Leveraging Weverse Live to help promote D-Day will draw significant international engagement. We know that time differences pose to be a challenge which is why we proposed an increase of live sessions per week. However, we understand that going live this often might be exhausting. Would you consider reducing the frequency to once or twice a week instead?"

"I'm open to once a week but didn't we film the 'Suga: Road to D-Day' documentary for a similar reason? Won't it be too much to add more than two Weverse Lives throughout the entire promotional phase?" Yoongi's challenge is met with an unanimous hum of support from his fellow executives. You'd feel intimidated if you didn't already have a justification mapped out.

"The objective behind releasing 'Suga: Road to D-Day' on Disney+ differs from that of Weverse Lives," you rebuttal confidently. "While the documentary presents a structured behind-the-scenes view of D-Day's development, the Lives focus on building hype among your existing fans who know you well, will spread the word to their peers, and will likely pre-order the album. As you're aware, Lives are more personal and stripped down, allowing your fanbase to feel closer to you."

Thinking of no further objectives, Yoongi, still somewhat unsure, accepts your suggestion. "Once a week will be fine then. While we're still on the topic, do we know when 'Suga: Road to D-Day' is set to release on Disney+?"

"Our digital marketing and promo team will be reviewing the specifics of that soon," you inform. "Right now we have the documentary releasing April 23 of next year. The poster for the film will release a week and a half earlier on the 12th."

Rather than furthering the discussion, Yoongi sends an understanding nod your way which allows the social media team to resume their portion of the proposal. Recording more Weverse Lives than usual remains a pain point for him, but he's willing to move forward if it means connecting with his fanbase.

Alast, after what seems like three hours of social media; followed by financing & budget talk, the last team to present their material takes lead of the meeting.

"We'd like to provide a timeline for D-Day's promo schedule as a way to wrap up today's proposal," So-hyun from your digital marketing and promos team explains. "Promotions will begin April 10, 2023 and will run until April 25th. During this time the album's track list, concept photos, MV Teaser, and official MV will drop. As far as concert schedule, we're proposing April 26-June 24. These dates include U.S, Asia, and Korea Tours."

"We might need to rethink concert dates but for now I'm on onboard." Yoongi remains brief in his interjection, allowing So-hyun to continue.

"As far as other marketing channels, we plan to implement both print and digital methods including billboards, banners, paid search ads, and YouTube. We'd also like to reach out to a variety of magazines like Rolling Stones Magazine for interviews. If we want to extend our global reach even further, we can book a time slot on the Jimmy Fallon Show. Bare in mind that if we go this route, we'll need to decide fairly quick, as slots are in high demand."

You notice Bang PD whispering amongst Yoongi and his Chief Finance Officer when Jimmy Fallon is mentioned. Yoongi seems the least interested. Perhaps he isn't fond of being front and center of talk shows, you guess.

"When will we need a decision for the Jimmy Fallon Show?" Bang PD inquires for the group.

"No later than three weeks from now," So-hyun answers. "It's a tight deadline but it can been done if we get the official go."

Bang PD directs his attention to Yoongi who's chosen to be silent in this conversation. "What do you think, Yoongi? It's your call."

"Maybe," he says, "give me a day or two to think on it."

Another ten minutes of productive overview with your promos team pass and soon, you're standing up to adjourn the meeting. You have to admit that out of all the proposals you've given in your career, this goes right to the top.

Your team was phenomenal today, and despite the the fact that several Hybe executives are biting at the bit to finally go on their lunch break, you feel confident that everyone is leaving on the same page.

"Min PD-nim."

You're ears inevitably pick up the conversation in front of you as you make your way out of the conference room. Yoongi and his Chief Financial Officer are running through some quick numbers only a few steps steps ahead, but with everyone simultaneously rushing in the same direction, neither must have realized you were within earshot.

"There's no doubt that she's good at what she does," Hybe's Chief Financial Officer continues. "Still, it's hard to believe that she's only 27 or 28. A person should take better care of themselves don't you agree? Like our Eunchae for example."

If there was a way to erase what you just heard, you'd do so, because in an instant, all previous successes you felt from today's proposal shatters to the ground. You're no stranger to receiving these sorts of comments about your appearance, yet it leaves your confidence fleeting, along with any amount of resilience you've built.

Blinking back the tears that threaten to spill, you exit the conference room the first chance you get. You have no desire to stick around for Yoongi's reply.

Not long after you leave does you phone ring off.

Tae 💚: Hey! How's the meeting going? Still available to get lunch this afternoon? I'm heading to the cafeteria as I type this.

You: It went okay. But I don't think I'll be coming to lunch, just a lot to do. I'm also not that hungry.

You second-guess how convincing your message is, knowing that it's your best friend on the other line. Regardless, it's the only words you can come up with right now. You really do have a lot of work ahead of you though, at least that part is true.

Tae 💚: Are you sure? I was looking forward on hearing how the meeting went! Wasn't there something you had to give me too?

The meaning of the last line suddenly dawns on you as you make your way down the long hallway. How could you forget? You made Taehyung one of his favorite foods to surprise him for lunch; Japchae, a sweet and savory dish of stir-fried glass noodles and vegetables.

You: Right, sorry it slipped from my mind for a second. I'll meet you in the cafeteria to give it to you.

"Why won't you stay and eat with me?" Taehyung devours the homemade Japchae you made for him with delight, a pair of chopsticks clamped in his hand.

"I don't have much of an appetite, Tae."

You've already told him this twice already, clarifying that you'd be heading back to your office once you deliver his food. Evidently, he's not letting you slip away easily.

"Then take a break with me instead, even if it's only for ten minutes." You watch as your best friend swiftly pulls out the chair next to him from under the table, gesturing you to sit. "Tell me what's got you down," he says. "Did Yoongi say something to you? He can be a bit too outspoken with his opinions sometimes."

Feeling defeated, you slide into the chair. "No, the meeting was fine. I'm just overthinking something that happened."

You then proceed to explain what you overheard Hybe's Chief Finance Officer say about you from earlier, that you didn't look healthy enough for your age and using Eunchae as an example. The scowl that appears on Taehyung's face as you retell the incident is unmistakable–he's clearly pissed.

"First of all," Taehyung starts once you finish, jaw clenched. "Eunchae is 17 and is a part of a Korean girl group. She has an entire team dedicated to making sure her appearance is flawless. It's the idol life; trust me, I'm well acquainted with it, so it's not a fair comparison. Secondly, Hybe's CFO is an asshole who I'd replace in a day. I don't want you letting him make you feel insignificant just because you don't conform to his narrow idea of how a woman should look."

You appreciate Taehyung's efforts to cheer you up, though you remain unaffected. Besides, he still isn't aware of Yoongi's involvement since you purposely left that detail out due to their close friendship.

"Yeah, I don't know. We don't have to talk about it anymore." You decide to dismiss the topic entirely and reach for your phone, along with a pair of earbuds bundled in your pocket. "Wanna listen to something?"

Music has always bonded you and Taehyung's friendship, as you've frequently found yourselves fully immersed in timeless songs from King of Leon and Led Zeppelin together. Taehyung nearly accepts the offer to listen with you once again, but then he freezes all movement. An eager grin follows close after.

"Hyung!" His voice echos though the room, earning the attention of Min Yoongi who's just entered the cafeteria. This time, you feel nothing but discomfort when the man looks your way.

"I have some material I need to review from my promo team. I'll text you later, okay?" You leave your best friend no time to reply as you quickly rise from your chair, stick your phone in your pant pocket, and head for the nearest exit. Yoongi attempts to make eye contact with you on your way out, but you avoid it completely.

When he approaches Taehyung, he acknowledges your semi-odd behavior. "I didn't mean to make her leave," he states, joining the younger at the table.

Taehyung offers a light shrug in response. "Don't worry, you didn't. She had other matters to get to. Something with her team members I think."

Yoongi grabs a fresh clementine from a nearby fruit bowl and beings peeling it little by little. "You two must be pretty close if you're having your lunches together."

It's not hard for Taehyung to read between the lines of what his member is insinuating.

"We've been friends for a while," he clarifies. "Just friends, nothing else."

a/n: Hope you enjoyed! Lmk what you think 🥰

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfics #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #bts scenarios #fic:thoseeyeschico #kookslastbutton

[kingdom-of-sins]

Ares (God of war) x mortal!reader

Okay but imagine Ares, the god of war falling in love with a beautiful mortal. It wasn't just love at first sight or he was looking so godly that she was immediately attracted. It was more like enemies to friends to lovers. Ares totally wanted to avoid catching feelings. But it was inevitable.

Imagine she had a successful career and everything, but here she was fighting with this dude at a diner who mistook her order of cheeseburger as his. And she had no idea he is a god.

Imagine both meeting again at the same diner a couple of days later and it's a complete coincidence. Ares is grumpy because he did something to piss off Zeus and as a sign it's raining heavily with thunder and lightning. She felt bad about the fight the other day and judging from his look he need some sort of comfort or assurance. All she could think about it buying him a cheeseburger. And then she left.

Imagine them turning into friends in their next meeting. And then within weeks falling in love. Ares is just like "I am screwed" because he has never loved a mortal so much.

Imagine Ares confessing and proving to her that he is a god. She is strong both mentally and emotionally but still he feared that she will run away. But she didn't, although she took some time to process it.

Imagine the weather getting worse and worse as the relationship progressed. Zeus is pissed. Ares doesn't care.

Imagine Ares showing her the amazing world hiding behind the mist. Both going on long rides on his motobike. Spending time with each other every chance they get.

And then eventually she fell pregnant. A very happy occasion for both of them. Ares vowed to always protect her and the child.

But them nothing last for ever. A prophecy. The child will grow up to become a threat to someone as powerful as the gods. Zeus thought the prophecy spoke of him. He immediately forbidded Ares to never see the child or the mother of the child again. Ares fought but at last he had no choice.

Imagine a very emotional scene. Ares assuring her that she is strong enough to raise their child, the demigod. Promising that he will always be around to protect the two of them but she just won't be able to see him.

She did her best to raise their daughter. A very powerful demigod with a urge to fight anyone.

Imagine she raised the demigod to be kind and just, taught her right from wrong. Told her about her father. But the daughter still ended up hating Ares. What kind of father abandon his daughter and the woman he claims to love.

Imagine father and daughter coming face to face years later when Ares and Percy Jackson are about to fight. Ares totally emotional to see his daughter again. His daughter however looking forward to make his father pay for leaving her mother.

#percy pjo #percy jackson show #percy jackson tv series #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson imagines #ares god of war #ares #ares x reader #ares greek god #zeus

[dilemmaontwolegs]

A litttle Geri moment because she is a queen, Geri showing you and Max all the photos she took of you while you guys were on the carpet and the loving interactions between the two of you while Max gets interviewed.

I think we are almost at the end of Gala Max requests 😅 what a strange two days we have had on this blog...

The Real Prize - A Mile High || MV1

Pre-Gala || The Real Prize || Jealousy || Panties || Captivity || Rocky || Escaping || Thighs || Consequences || A Mile High || New Beginnings

“Oh, these two have to be my favourites.” Geri turned her phone around to show the photo of you and Max on the red carpet.

She had been trying to get Max’s attention but he hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away from you. She had given up and took the picture that proved just how enthralled he was by you last night. She swiped across to the next one where a reporter had got his attention, asking the usual questions. You had turned to watch him answer the questions with the blunt honesty you loved about him. The adoration in both photos was palpable and you peeked over to Max sitting beside you to find the same smile on his face.

“Can you please send those to me?” you asked, grateful that Max’s plane had wifi.

She sent you a dozen shots she had taken during the night and you snuggled back into Max’s side as you swiped through them together. One had a glowing smile that was absolutely radiant and you knew exactly what had transpired minutes before it was snapped. Max did too as he chuckled and zoomed in on your face. “This is my favourite, schatje.”

“But what about this one?”

Geri loved to capture precious moments and it was certainly one. You had tears in your eyes as you proudly watched Max take the stage and accept his trophy. Your hands had been clasped together tightly in front of your lips as you fought the urge to clap and scream too early.

Your eyes were blurring after saving all the pictures and locking the screen. You hadn't had nearly enough sleep in the weeks of travelling but you were looking forward to heading home for some much needed rest. Just you and Max, and the cats.

"Oh, you poor thing, you must be tired from yesterday's activities," Geri fawned as she caught you yawning again. "Why don't you go have a sleep?"

"Hmmph, activities," Christian commented under his breath as he sipped an espresso.

"I'm fine here," you assured her as you fluffed a pillow on Max's lap to get comfortable before draping his arm over your waist.

Geri shook her head and put her phone down on the table. "What good is having a bed on this plane if you aren't going to use it?"

"I don't think they would get any sleep if they went to the bedroom, honey," Christian said with a knowing look.

"Not now," you murmured. "I would have nightmares."

Max brushed the fly-away hairs from your face and bent down to kiss your cheek, and, more importantly, whisper, "There's other places we could join the mile high club, schatje."

"Join?" You lifted an eyebrow as you rolled back and looked up at him. "Baby, you've already given me a lifetime membership."

"This is what I mean, honey," Christian said as he placed his empty cup down. "They forget there are other people in the room, they are in a world of their own."

"Leave them be, Chris, they are in love. Don't you remember that feeling?"

"I feel like that is a trick question and the answer is: No, because I still love you the same as I did ten years ago."

Geri giggled and playfully swatted her husband's arm. "You're learning."

You laughed at the couple and wondered if you and Max would be the same in ten years time. You hoped so.

#max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

[wlntrsldler]

shades of cool | luke castellan

part two to how to disappear

a/n: happy endings don't exist on this page.

i. and when he calls, he calls for me and not for you; he lives for love, he loves his drugs, he loves his baby too.

“hermes is angry.” 

you knew it was your mother before you even saw her. the two, white doves cooing in the middle of downtown berkeley gave her away. although you hadn’t spoken to her in months, too afraid and too upset to put your faith in the hands of the gods since the night at the pier, your mother tried to get your attention every day. the flowers bloomed like clockwork. on your way to class, red and orange bunches sprouted from the corner of your eye. the once welcome reminder of luke turned bitter and painful. it was as if your mother was mocking you for losing him, for losing love. you felt as if you disappointed her, the daughter of the goddess of love, unable to experience it for herself. it was pathetic, really. 

you tucked your hair behind your ears, suddenly feeling self-conscious with aphrodite’s eyes on you. she was your mother, sure, and she’d been a better parent to you than most, but she was still a goddess– the goddess of beauty at that. your arms were crossed over your chest, eyebrows furrowed, “why?” 

she didn’t answer your question just yet, but she studied your face, eyes scrutinizing the marks of imperfections. she reached over to run her thumb across the bags under your eyes. “you’ve aged, my child.” 

you fought the urge to roll your eyes. this was normal with your mother. she made these snide comments about your appearance, but her comments to you were not nearly as bad as what she said to your siblings, and especially not as bad as what other godly parents put their kids through. you could handle a few jabs here and there. you shrugged, “not all of us have the power of eternal youth.” 

she nodded, pulling her thumb away, “we have not talked in a while.” 

“been busy,” you lied, chewing on your bottom lip. you tugged on the scarf around your neck, wanting to keep your hand occupied as you avoided her gaze. you wondered if your mother missed you, if she actually cared about you. in the weird way that gods do, you suppose that she did care, but you wondered if she cared about you the way a mother would; worry about your safety when you went out at night, worry if you were wearing enough layers in the winter, mundane things like that. “college and stuff, you know.” 

“hmm,” she hummed, unconvinced. she motioned for the two doves perched on the tree branch to fly away. they obeyed her, circling around each other in a dance, before flying away in separate directions, away from the both of you. “how many more years do you have left?” 

“another two after this and then i’m done.” it was odd talking to her like this, in her human form, like she was a normal mother who was just curious about college and her daughter’s future. maybe she even sounded a little bit proud of you; a child of aphrodite, making a name for herself outside of the life she was dealt. “hopefully, i’ll make it to graduate school.” 

a heavy tension hung in the air as your words echoed. aphrodite’s eyes narrowed, thinking. she looked up at the sky, before repeating herself. “hermes is angry.”

you stared at her, waiting for her to continue. there was an unreadable expression on her face, somewhere between anger, pain, and desperation, but it wasn’t her own emotions that she carried. she was mirroring someone, as if their pain was so unbearable, aphrodite herself had to shoulder some of it to save them. the gods were selfish. most of the time, they thought of nobody but themselves, but there were some moments when they showed compassion, when they showed mercy to mortals and demigods alike.

“his son resents him,” she continued, eyes closing like she was picturing it in her mind. “he is angry at me because his son prays to me instead of him.” 

“mom, i don’t want to hear this,” you sighed, anger rising in your system. you knew she knew how you felt about the situation. you’d ignored her attempts to talk frequently. “he made his decision. he’s betrayed us all.” 

“i cannot ignore him, don’t you understand?” she looked at you, eyes glossed over in a pleading manner. she looked too human. it was unsettling. “his love is loud. he is desperate. i am the goddess of love and i cannot ignore him while he suffers, even if he makes me his enemy.”

“the other gods listen to his prayers to me because i can no longer carry the burden on my own. it is too much, my child,” she shuddered, “all he talks of is you.” 

you stared at her, internalizing her words. a shiver went down your spine as you looked at her, “i don’t understand why you’re telling me this.” 

“i have tried to tell you, but you’ve been stubborn,” aphrodite frowned, “you do not pray, you do not make your offerings. you have not spoken to your siblings since that night. you have disappeared from this life as if you were not part of it at all.” 

“because i didn’t ask for this!” you screamed. “i don’t want anything to do with this, mom. losing luke… it killed me. you know this. i can’t go back there and i can’t make offerings to you or the gods when you all are the reason why he did what he did!” 

since that night, you began to question your blind faith in the gods. you’d been taught to worship them and you did because you had to. you were luckier than most, being the favorite of your mother, so you never went against the gods. you thought you had no reason to, until luke began talking to you. he planted seeds of distrust for the gods in you, learning about thalia, meeting annabeth and learning her story from luke, what luke had to go through during his quest. how did the gods sit back and leave their children for dead? but you always believed there was a purpose for all of this, and it provided you with some misguided comfort. then, luke left everyone who’d ever loved him because the anger in his soul won against all odds, and you knew there was no reason to trust them anymore. 

if the gods were all-mighty and all-powerful, how could they let him grow so angry and accept this fate? how dare they ignore him and ruin him? he was kind. he was patient. he was luke. he deserved more than what they gave him. all of you do. aphrodite blinked, trying to understand you. a look of panic flashed across her features, her human form slowly peeling away, but you could see her pulling back. 

“i’m not saying i’m joining him,” you sighed, rubbing your face with your hands, “i’m just saying what he said to percy made sense. luke had a point. the gods were horrible to him and to all demigods. hermes has no right to be angry with you, or with luke. he should be angry at himself. all of you should be.” 

“i can’t forgive luke for what he did,” you whispered, voice calming after a rumble of thunder shook the ground. the gods were listening. “beth still wakes up screaming in the middle of the night. she writes to me every month. i haven’t written back because it hurts, mom. i keep thinking of luke. she reminds me so much of him and it kills me that i can’t do anything to help her. where do i even start? i can’t fulfill the hole he left in her life. nobody can.” 

your mother nodded, clearing her throat. “do consider returning to camp this summer. your siblings miss you and your sister is not doing well.” 

“piper?” 

“silena,” she replied. the doves returned to her. “it was lovely to see you, my child.” 

in a blink, she was gone. you wondered if she’d show her face again, but the rain fell from the sky soon after she left, and you realized you probably wouldn’t. 

ii. but you are unfixable, i can't break through your world.

“i’ll catch up with you guys in a second,” you motioned for your roommates to keep walking home without you. the two girls nodded, sending you a small wave of goodbye, before they turned the street corner. you began walking towards the entrance of the science building, towards the silhouette of a boy you could recognize in every life. 

luke’s jaw was clenched as you approached him. he was caught. luke knew that he shouldn't be here. he knew it was too dangerous, but he couldn't help himself; he had to see you. 

berkeley suited you. in college, you were a normal girl, stressed about finals and getting a summer internship. though luke had never seen you outside of camp before, he always imagined that you’d look even more beautiful when you didn’t have the stress of this life on your shoulders. it was weird seeing you out in the world like this. if he hadn’t known you, if he wasn’t already under your spell, he would undoubtedly fall to worship aphrodite’s favorite daughter.

your friends didn’t know who your mother was, but if they saw through the mist, if they knew the truth, it wouldn’t come as a surprise to them. you had an aura about you that was undeniable and for a minute, luke was jealous that these people around you could freely succumb to your pull, to allow themselves into your orbit, while all he could do was watch from afar. they didn’t realize how lucky they were to be around you, they would never fully understand. 

you looked happy in the bay area, free, like you weren’t a demigod, like you weren’t preparing for a war. a war that he knew he caused. 

he looked down at his feet before rising from the steps. he hadn't planned to speak to you. he’d been following you for weeks, from a distance, of course, he wasn’t going to test his luck any more than he already was, but then you approached him and luke knew there was no hiding anymore. 

truth be told, there was never any hiding from you in the first place. you knew him better than he knew himself. sometimes, it scared him, just how vulnerable he was with you. when he first realized how he felt about you, he wanted to squash the feeling between his fingers and make it disappear into thin air. he knew there was nothing good that could come out of it, but he couldn't help but hope. 

how could he not? how could he not hope that maybe, in some twisted way, he would be able to be with you? that one day, he could stop running, stop fighting, and just love you the way he wanted to. hope was a cruel thing, luke realized after the night on the pier. it makes him believe that there is good out there, somewhere in the future, daring him to hold on just a bit longer, only to leave him high and dry, an empty shell of who he once was. 

“what are you doing here?”

luke let the question linger between the both of you for a second. partly because he didn't know what he was doing here. i needed to see you didn't feel like enough. it barely scratched the surface of what he was feeling. luke was never a wizard with words, but he used to be able to at least say something. now, though, as you stood in front of him, his mind went blank. 

“what are you doing here?” you repeated. you had your arms wrapped around yourself to soothe your skin from the wind chills. luke didn't know it got this cold in california. “i’ve seen you a few times, and i thought you’d give it up, but it’s been weeks, luke. so tell me, what are you doing here?”

luke’s mouth was dry. he thought he was being careful, but he should’ve known better. you could always sense when he was around, just like how he knew whenever you were around. there’s something that shifts in the air, as if it gets lighter and it’s easier to breathe. luke wondered if it was still the same for you. 

“he's using me,” luke whispered, “like a stepping stone to gain power.” 

for a second, your face softened into a look that he knew too well. it was the same way you used to look at him when he talked about his nightmares or when he talked about his mom. a flicker of hope passed through luke’s mind, but he knew better now. he extinguished it before it got too comfortable. 

there was a hint of disbelief in your voice when you spoke again, “what did you think was going to happen?”

“i thought i was doing the right thing,” he felt small. “i thought he wanted to make things better for us. the gods, they’re terrible parents. you know this. what they did to thalia, to all of us, i-i just thought that he would make things better.”

you shook your head, “luke, you betrayed all of us. percy, annabeth– did you know that she cries at night over losing you? over losing her brother? she’s lost everyone luke! and you were supposed to stay. you were supposed to be there for her! i saw her last summer when i came back to camp. beth is so much like you.” 

“i know,” luke was crying. he was exhausted, both physically and mentally. kronos was taking over every part of him. he was there in every crevice of him, just waiting for the moment to drain him of everything he used to be. “gods, i know, angel. i just thought i was doing the right thing.” 

“and me luke,” you rubbed your temples with the pads of your fingers. you hadn’t told anyone this before. you were too busy trying to make sure that everyone else around you was okay. as the oldest one now that luke was gone, you had to step up. your mother was right. your siblings were not doing well, nobody in the camp was. “i feel so stupid for ever trusting you. i keep thinking of every small interaction, every word you said, and i just keep wondering if any of it was real.”

“you don’t mean that,” he shook his head, stepping down to get closer to you. under the light of the streetlamp, you saw him better. if you didn’t know him as well as you did, you probably wouldn’t have recognized him. “everything, all of it, i meant it. you know that right?” 

his eyes were sunken in, dark bags outshining the once vibrant sparkle of his eyes. now, the rims of his eyes were red. his hair was matted against his scalp like he let his curls tangle into knots and didn’t bother to fix them. there were newer, smaller cuts that joined the scar on his face. they weren’t as deep, but they were fresh, a sign that whatever he faced was recent.

“i love you, please tell me you at least believe that,” luke rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palm, “your mom doesn’t answer me anymore. i don’t know what else to do.”

when you didn’t say anything, luke felt the ground crumbling from under him. luke could live with a lot of things; being a failure in the eyes of his father, being a traitor, but you thinking that he didn’t love you was something he didn’t think he could live with. it was real to him, all of it. he didn’t know if this was the right time to tell you that those moments with you were the only things keeping him grounded. 

the image of you throwing your head back in laughter as he tickled your sides, the freckles on your cheeks that showed up during the summer that he would spend hours counting while you slept on his chest, the sound of your voice, talking in hushed whispers, in the dark of the hermes cabin; it was you who he held onto as he fell deeper and deeper under kronos’ control. 

luke walked closer to you, holding out a hand to touch you, when you flinched and backed away from him. your fingers unconsciously reached for the dagger you had on your belt loop. he shuddered, taking in a breath. he looked down at his hands, lips trembling as he wiped them on the fabric of his jeans. there was nothing on them, but he wanted to scrub them clean because it felt as if all the blood he spilled was stuck under his flesh, staining them red. 

you thought he would hurt you. 

“i…” luke trailed off, stuffing his hands in his pockets. he cleared his throat, “i didn’t come here to fight. i could never hurt you.” 

“i don’t know anymore, luke,” you bit your lip, heart breaking as you spoke to him. “i never thought that we’d end up like this.” 

“come with me,” he begged. “run away with me.” 

“is this what you came here for?” you asked, “to try to recruit me like you did with percy?” 

“no,” he shook his head vigorously. he was on the verge of getting on his knees to beg you to believe him. “i want out. i messed up, angel.” 

“you did,” you whispered. he looked genuine like he meant it, like he did want to run away from it. a piece of you wanted to say yes, yes, i’ll run away with you. tell me where to go and i’ll follow you, but it was the part of you that still clung to him. the foolish part of you who still wanted to believe that the boy you met when you were younger, stubborn, selfless, sweet, luke castellan was still there. 

you listened to that part of you on the final night in the hermes cabin, when you told him you loved him and he said nothing back. you tried so hard to lock that part of you away since that night, but it was hard to deny it when he was there in front of you.

“tell me what i can do to fix it,” luke felt like he was going crazy. “anything, angel. i’ll do it. just say the word.” 

you closed your eyes, “there’s nothing you can do anymore, luke.” 

“that can’t be true,” he hiccuped. 

“you need to go.” 

over the last few years, luke experienced brutal types of torture. he often spent days without sleeping, too afraid that kronos would visit him while he dreamt. he fought monsters he didn’t realize existed. he walked away from fights barely hanging onto a thread of life, but this– you telling him that there was nothing else left for him, like he no longer had a place in your life, this was a different type of torture that might just send him plummeting to his end. 

“please don’t come back here,” you added, motioning to the buildings behind you. “this was the one place in my life you haven’t tainted.” 

his apology was left stuck in his throat as you walked away, not once looking back at him. 

iii. but i can't help him, can't make him better and i can't do nothing about his strange weather. 

“y/n,” percy said, approaching you from behind. 

it was the summer. you were sitting on the pier, a joint loosely hanging off your lips. you put out the lit end on the wooden pier, stuffing the joint in your pocket. you knew percy knew you smoked, but you still tried to hide it from him as much as possible. he was too young. 

“hey, perce,” you smiled, kindly, scooting over to give him space to sit next to you. “sorry. you caught me. i’m not really being a good role model right now.” 

“it’s okay,” he assured you, sitting beside you. he looked out into the lake, extending his fingers to cause a ripple effect in the water. “i don’t judge.” 

you nudged his shoulder. percy looked his age in the light of the sunset. you wondered if you ever looked that young. “don’t tell mr. d.” 

“he has plenty of other things to worry about,” percy scoffed, “how are you?” 

you knew why he was asking. beth had told you today that they saw luke in the labyrinth. he was now kronos’ host. when she first told you, you were stone cold, no emotion on your face. you knew something like this was possible. it was only a matter of time until you lost luke all over again, completely this time, but it still hurt even though you knew it was coming. you simply nodded and walked off, finding solace at the pier as you always did. 

“i’m okay,” you replied, though your voice said differently. you played with the sleeves of your sweater, luke’s sweater actually. he left it in the hermes cabin along with the rest of his things. nobody dared to touch it so his bed remained the same as it was years ago, collecting dust. “he came to see me in berkeley… before, y’know.” 

“did he?” 

“yeah,” you sighed, leaning back on your elbows. “he said he wanted out. asked me to run away with him.” 

percy looked at you, “what did you say?” 

“i told him it was too late,” you met his gaze. “i don’t know if it actually was.” 

he didn’t know what to say to that. he’d only witnessed your relationship with luke for a few hours when he returned to camp for the first time. it was only a few years ago, but percy felt like it had been lifetimes. he’d heard about you and luke from annabeth and grover. when there were lulls in their conversations, one of them would bring you up and joke about how you and luke should just confess your feelings for one another. percy didn’t understand it until he saw the way luke was with you. 

luke, who’d taken him under his wing, was love struck. percy didn’t know how he didn’t notice it before, but there were traces of you weaved into luke’s life. a picture of the two of you in his wallet, a small cal berkeley flag taped messily on his wall, a box of his things under his bed that were reserved for you, doodles of hearts in black and pink ink on luke’s counselor clipboard when he did cabin checks, you were in every piece of him. 

luke was glued to your side the entire time you were there and nobody batted an eye. it was normal. luke and y/n, two names that seemed to go together, like they were meant to be uttered right after each other. it felt right. 

“i met your mom,” he said, “she was weird.” 

“sorry,” you couldn’t help but chuckle. “what did she say?” 

“she was obsessed with me and annabeth,” there was a blush creeping up on percy’s cheeks. he looked down at his lap to shy away, but you caught it. it was such a teenage boy response of percy to call your mom, the goddess of love, weird because she caught onto the two kids’ feelings for each other. 

“yeah, she does that,” you decided to spare him the details of why. you were sure the boy would explode in embarrassment if you told him that you also knew about his feelings for beth. you sensed it when you returned to camp last summer. there were inklings of it when you first met them, but now their bond was stronger and it was harder to ignore. “she used to obsess over me and luke.” 

percy blinked, “she said your love was her favorite to watch.” 

now it was your turn to go red, “did she?” 

“yeah,” he nodded, “annabeth thinks that you’re aphrodite’s favorite because you and luke had a great love and she was drawn to it, which is a little mean if you ask me.” 

“agreed,” you replied, “i… i miss him, percy.” 

“i know.” 

“i love him,” you cried, smudging the mascara on your eyes. 

“i know.” 

“he wasn’t always like this,” percy watched your eyes unfocus, like you were playing back the memories you had with luke in your head. “when we were younger, before luke was the golden boy, he used to help me sneak out of camp when i’d get home sick. he’d take me to this abandoned cabin a few miles away. an old couple used to live there and they set up a little free library. luke knew i loved to read so he would take me there so i could pick out new books for the summer.” 

“i didn’t know it then, but before i got to camp, he would steal books from stores during trips into the city and put them in there so i would have new selections to choose from when i got back,” you had a fond smile on your face as you continued, “the cabin was sold to new owners and they took the library down a while back. i think they thought nobody really used it anymore.” 

“he was always good at sneaking around,” you hummed, “he’d walk out of a place with something that wasn’t his inside his pocket; a lollipop for a new camper who was missing home a little extra one summer, a can of soda for beth from mr. d’s stash when it got too hot under the sun, a flower from the demeter kids’ secret garden for me. he never got caught, but everyone knew it was him. i don’t think anyone cared, though, because it was luke. he always had good intentions at the end of the day.” 

“do you think he’s still there?” percy asked, voice hushed into a whisper. “do you think he could ever come back to being that way?” 

“probably not,” you turned to face him. you were mourning him, percy realized then. luke wasn’t dead, not physically anyway, but the way you spoke about him felt like he was already gone. “luke, he internalizes everything he does. he beats himself up over the things he does wrong. if he were to survive this, i don’t think he’d ever forgive himself for it.” 

“this life, this prophecy, it feels like too much sometimes,” he mumbled. the sun was gone now, the two of you sat in the dark, listening to the calm sounds of the water. “i still feel like i don’t know what i’m doing most days.” 

“yeah,” you played with the pink lighter in your hand. the heart you drew on the plastic was long gone and there was no more fluid in it, but you kept it anyway. “my prophecy said that i would lose a love to worse than death and i ignored then because it didn’t make any sense to me, but now it does.” 

“i’m sorry.” percy didn’t know if it was the right thing to say. 

you smiled at him differently, like you were tired, a look of resignation across your face. you stood up, motioning for him to follow you back to camp to join the others. as you walked together in silence, you noticed a single dove fly across the horizon. 

iv. high, neglectful lover. you’re crumbling, sadly. you’re sadly, crumbling. 

you’d fought through your wounds, even as your bones ached and your blood stained the clothes over your body. luke appeared then. you didn’t know if the gods took on mercy on you at that moment, or if was the lack of energy to distinguish real life from your dreams, or a mist that covered the truth from you then, but the world seemed to stop and everyone seemed to fade away. 

all you saw was luke, in his camp half-blood shirt, five beads around his neck, the same boyish smile on his face. his eyes were sparkling as he approached you. his lips felt soft to the touch and his voice was kind. 

“my angel,” he said, wrapping his arms around you the same way he always did when you returned to him each summer. 

if you were to choose the way death came for you, you would choose it just like this, you decided– in the arms of the one love you’d ever known.

#frances writes #frances song fics #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfic #pjo fanfic #pjo series

[talaok]

Us | pt. 2

Part 2 of this request because you asked for it and I can't say no to you.

Pairing: Joel Miller x pregnant!reader

summary: You decide it's time to tell Ellie you're pregnant, and she and Joel turn into overprotective babysitters until you give birth

It was time.

You had postponed it for too long and hiding your growing belly was starting to become impossible.

You had convinced Joel to invite Sam and Henry on the journey to Wyoming with you, but they didn't want to bother you anymore, which was stupid, they never bothered you in the first place... well maybe Joel a little bit, but he doesn't count.

Nonetheless, you had parted, and were now staying in an abandoned motel.

Everything was calm for the first time in a while, which meant it was time.

"Ellie we have to tell you something" Joel spoke. He might have looked and sounded calm, but you knew he was just as anxious as you.

"oh shit, who died?"

you forced yourself to smile through the nerves "No, it's not like that, it's... it's something happy"

Ellie raised her head, actually listening to you now.

"ok..." she said, urging you to go on.

You turned to Joel, suddenly unable to speak.

Why was this so hard? It's not like you were confessing to something awful.

Joel caught your look and understood he needed to help out.

"we're together," he said

There. It was out. Not all of it, but a part.

A weight lifted from your chest as Joel's hand intertwined with yours.

"yeah no shit" Ellie chuckled, making you freeze.

"you knew?" you spat out

"I mean you're kind of obvious" she grinned " especially you, man," he nodded to Joel, laughing to herself "You act like a thirteen-year-old around her"

The man shot her a look, but you could only smile.

"Alright Einstein, but that's not all"

She stopped smiling now, and instead, a frown took over her face as she looked up at you confusedly.

"It's not?"

"no" you shook your head "See, I..." you bit your lip as your heart started racing.

You had never said it out loud to anyone who wasn't Joel.

"Ellie, I'm pregnant"

Her eyes widened and then fell to your belly "shit, are- are you serious!?"

You nodded.

"wh-why didn't you tell me? Did Tess know?"

"We just... we wanted to be safe, and no, Tess didn't know"

"wow" she sighed eyeing you two "I mean- congratulations"

__ __ __

The journey to Wyoming changed from that point on.

Now instead of one person urging you to eat their food, you had two.

It was like they fed off each other's worry.

You must have carried your own backpack for just over five minutes total, the rest of the time, one or the other had forced you to let them hold it.

Neither of them left you alone if not to pee, and by the time you got to Jackson, you were just happy they could finally back off a little.

Turns out you were wrong.

They didn't back off, not at all, as you got more and more pregnant all it did was just make their apprehension grow.

It was funny really, watching as they fought for who could help you tie your shoes or make you breakfast.

The search for the fireflies became less and less important as you got closer to the ninth month, and by the time you had reached it, Ellie and Joel had decided they were gonna think about that only after the child was born.

Which wasn't long after that.

You woke up in stinging pain.

"fuck" you cried,

That was definitely a contraction

You let your fingers travel between your legs and found the sheets and your pants completely soaked.

shit

"Joel" you mumbled, the pain only getting worse.

"Joel!" you called, gripping his arm.

He woke up with a gasp, immediately turning to you.

"It's happening?"

"mh-mh" you could only hum, nodding as your nails dug into his flesh.

He looked at you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips, before he leaned in to leave a quick kiss on your forehead.

"it's happening" he whispered again

__ __ __

You had always thought the women in the movies were exaggerating.

But they weren't. They fucking weren't.

It was a miracle Joel's hand was still intact considering how hard you had squeezed it.

It didn't matter how many times he told you you were doing so good or how it was almost done, it felt like a year had passed until you finally heard a little cry coming from the doctor's arms.

"it's a girl," he said, handing the minuscule child to you.

You took her in your arms, scared to even breathe.

She was beautiful... actually, she was perfect, so warm and small she didn't even look real.

You couldn't stop the tears running down your cheeks, and when you looked up at Joel, you noticed a watery glint covering his eyes too.

"You did it" he spoke, his voice shaky

"we did" you corrected him "We did it"

"she's so small" he murmured, an incredulous smile tugging at his lips.

"I know" You nodded, looking at her.

You couldn’t help the sob coming up your throat. There it was, a light in the darkest night.

So many emotions took over you at the same time that all you could do was cry and then cry some more.

“Hey” Joel cooed, moving some hair out of your face “what is it?” he asked, laying down next to you.

You sniffled, looking up at him.

“What is it sweetheart?”

“I-” you stuttered, looking down at your daughter “I’m scared Joel” you admitted “I’m- I’m terrified. I thought the birth was gonna be the hardest part but...” you had to stop to breathe “Joel, What if I’m not a good mother?”

He smiled then, stoking your cheek “y/n, baby, you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. You are smart, kind, funny and patient” he spoke without a single trace of hesitation “You are gonna be a great mom, I promise”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because I know you, and I know this kid is the luckiest girl in the world to have you as her mom” he said, causing a small smile to your lips.

“Thank you” you murmured, kissing his cheek “and Y’know, You’re gonna be a great father too”

He chuckled “with you by my side... I’m sure I will”

You laughed softly as both your eyes fell back to your daughter.

"you want to hold her?"

He hesitated a second.

"you ok?" you asked, noticing the shift in his look.

He looked at you, and that's all he needed. All the memories and fear melted away the moment his eyes met yours.

"I'm great" he smiled, taking the baby in his arms.

She looked even smaller when he was holding her.

Everything fell silent for a second, until, without so much as a warning, Ellie threw the door open.

"Finally," she said, "they said I could come in now"

"c'mere," you gestured,

"you ok?"

"Yeah"

"did it hurt a lot?"

"it did" you nodded, "but it was worth it" you said, your eyes moving up to where Joel was still gently holding her.

Ellie smiled at the sight. He had never seen Joel being so careful.

"you ok there man?" she teased

And when Joel raised his head to look at her, a small tear fled his eye.

"I love you," he promised "all of you. And if it's the last thing I ever do, I swear I'll protect you"

— —

Pt. 1

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #tlou #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #joel miller the last of us #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel the last of us #fluff

[gutouhua]

pairing. zhongli x f. reader

wc. 2.7k+

rating. explicit

tags. sort of canonverse, zhongli has ruts & dragon fangs, reader hails from mondstat, mentions of mates/mating, mentions of eating animal meat, zhongli is a perv for reader, zhongli calls reader ‘pet,’ age gap (reader is early-mid 20s, zhongli is biologically in early 30s), mentions of zhongli’s previous sexual relationships (dubcon), power dynamics, cervixfucking, overstimulation (sort of), zhongli wants to breed reader, pussydrunk zhongli, unprotected sex (pull out method)

a/n. MDNI! see end for notes

Zhongli had imagined it over a million times—taking you across the table and fucking your pussy. He knew you’d smell good down there, had scented it like a pervert in the days before your period—familiar lily mixed with strong musk and a tinge of metal. It made his fangs itch from the need to sink into your soft thighs and tongue at your slick folds.

Zhongli rutted in early spring, when trees blossomed and bore fat fruit—juicy peaches hanging heavy on thin branches. Sometimes he’d walk by them and look at them with an almost forlorn gaze. A deep ache in his body.

He wished that there was someone who would satiate his needs like seeds did to trees or bees with flowers. They mated with each other, year after year in a frenzy—a haze of powdery yellow spilling on every surface of Liyue Harbor. Zhongli didn’t have allergies, but even if he did, he would still love and envy the pollen.

It had been a long time since Zhongli had someone like that to spend his seasons with. A mate.

He’d drink copious amounts of lily bulb tea each spring to keep himself from fucking the first person who said yes to him, and would take himself into his hands with a furious passion every morning and night—even during work breaks—to relieve himself.

And it worked. He successfully passed multiple centuries of ruts like so, although it wasn’t always easy. As Morax, he was volatile—could pass for the Pyro Archon herself, Murata, but he tempered himself over the years, learning to be the composed man he was now.

But then you appeared, and the fire flared. Hutao’s newest intern—the first in nearly a decade, fresh. A slight little creature (although most people were small compared to Zhongli), and eager to learn about funeral services from Liyue’s very best. It was the first time you’d been to Liyue, so far from your home in Mondstat, and everything and everyone interested you.

I wonder if there’s a way to breed two creatures together to create an actual cocogoat. It’d be cool—Qiqi would be able to drink actual cocogoat milk, not that cheap substitute that Baizhu makes for her, and we’d be able to eat the meat. It’d taste good, right?

Zhongli chuckled, eyes soft on you. That would be a sight to behold. He didn’t mention that he’d been alive when cocogoats still roamed the Bishui Plains—a story for another time.

And then came the questions about himself.

Why are you so red, Zhongli-xiangsheng?

His rut came early this year for some reason, but he didn’t pay much attention to it. The lily bulb tea would suffice until he had a moment for himself.

But you had to make it difficult. So difficult for him.

Nothing, he murmured.

You grinned, stepping closer on tiptoes so your eyes leveled his chest. Soft rise and fall—imperceptible unless face to face like you were.

It doesn’t seem like nothing to me, Xiangsheng.

Zhongli fought the urge to inhale your soft scent. Sweet, powdery like lilies and dusk and something tender he wanted to bite—

—And he tasted blood in his mouth to stop his fangs from descending onto your exposed neck, nearly shook from the force it took to not bend you over his desk.

It would leave a mess. And Hutao would add it to his tab.

Even now you tempted him with coy glances, a bare shoulder, and sometimes a lingering touch in the space between his cuff and gloves—sharp like the sting of the formidable Raiden’s electro bolts.

“Do you want to know what I learned today, Xiansheng?” You had taken to calling him that instead of his mortal name one day. Zhongli wasn’t quite sure why, but he liked how it sounded on your lips.

He smoothed an invisible wrinkle from his suit and shuffled the papers on his desk while shifting to hide the stiffness in his pants. “Pray, do tell.”

You leaned forward, settling your weight on the heavy oak table. “I heard you’re rutting right now.”

Zhongli nearly choked on his tea. “What?”

“Rut, heat, season—Hutao told me.” You shrugged as if the topic was something mundane. “She said you rut every spring, but that it’s unusually strong this year for some reason. Something about the aura around you, I think. Why’s that?”

Because of you.

“Not sure,” Zhongli said.

“She also told me about that tea you drink.”

He nearly dropped his cup of tea. Damn the woman. Spilling all my secrets. And there wasn’t a single thing he could do—he was on her payroll.

“What about it?” he asked, trying for confidence.

“Lily bulb tea,” you continued, scrutinizing his cup, “apparently it helps calm you down and dampens the urge to fuck.”

Zhongli’s dick hardened.

“So does it?”

“What?”

“The tea. Does it help with your urges?” You jerked your head at the drink, curious.

Not when you’re around.

Zhongli had imagined it over a million times—taking you across the table and fucking your pussy. He knew you’d smell good down there, had scented it like a pervert in the days before your period—familiar lily mixed with strong musk and a tinge of metal. It made his fangs itch from the need to sink into your soft thighs and tongue at your slick folds.

He wasn’t sure what to say, but finally decided on: “Not really.”

You cocked your head to the side and bit your lips, Zhongli’s eyes following the pink tongue that peeked through. He wanted to bite them too. They’d be soft and break easily with a little bit of teeth—like almond tofu.

“Oh. Then what’re you going to do about it?”

“The usual.” Tea, masturbating, some rough fucking. Archons knew he’d need it tonight—some sort of distraction from you. He’d have to visit Madame Fang for an escort. She was used to his proclivities—would have someone able to take him.

“The usual? And what would that be?” Zhongli could almost picture you with a pen and paper in hand, a student eager for information.

He groaned internally. Now he was imagining you in a short skirt, stockings, maybe thigh highs—the fat of your thighs spilling from the top of the elastic. The image nearly had him spilling in his pants.

“I don’t think you’d want to know the particulars,” he said, his voice a soft rasp. He shifted again. “It might scare an innocent little girl like you.”

“Innocent?” You huffed. “Little? I’m a grown adult xiangsheng! I’m over the legal age—and actually much more than that. You can hardly call me little or innocent.”

“But you are,” he said indulgently, as one would towards a spoiled pet. “I am immortal, have fought and survived the Archon War. Tell me, pet, can you say the same?”

He was playing with you. Of course the two of you knew you couldn’t compare to him.

“But at the very least, you cannot consider me innocent. I’ve experienced enough things,” you muttered, annoyed.

Zhongli arched an eyebrow.

Before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist, pushing you onto the desk in one fluid motion—papers scattering to the floor like spring pollen. Zhongli pinned your hands over your head to keep you in place, and knocked your legs apart to slot his large frame between you.

“W-What’re you doing, Zhongli?”

He smiled. And there it was: his name always slipped out when you got serious.

Xiansheng.

What?

Xiansheng. He moved closer, spreading your legs further apart as he drew closer to you. You could feel your stomach pressing tightly against the cotton of your suit with each breath, your chest straining against buttons. Don’t be so impolite when your boss is trying to school you.

Xiansheng.

Good girl, he rumbled. You were so curious about the specifics of my rut—what I do to satiate my needs. Shall I show you? They say firsthand experience is the best way to learn.

His voice was heavy, hot against your ear, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when he darted a tongue out to lick the delicate shell of your ear.

So sensitive. I wonder if it’s the same in other places. Shall we find out?

Hutao had ordered him to be careful with you—a family friend. Your family owned the most successful funeral parlor in Mondstat, and they sent you to Hutao to learn how she conducted her business in Liyue. Zhongli had agreed. He could keep his hands to himself.

But then you showed up on the steps of Wansheng funeral parlor, and he knew he was fucked.

Do you want it, he whispered, I need to rut, but I always ask for permission.

Jealousy reared its ugly head. He’d done it with others—for decades, maybe even centuries, and it made sense, you couldn’t expect celibacy from him and yet…the thought of other people touching him made you want to rake your hands down his back, gouge, and suck every inch of his skin so others would know he was taken.

That he was yours.

What will it be, pet?

You nodded, eyeing the bulge in his pants. He was big. It was obvious, and it’d probably hurt. A tight fit.

Zhongli smiled—sharp teeth, predatory. I need words.

Yes.

No sooner did you give your permission did he slip your blazer off your shoulders and loosen just enough buttons to push your blouse up and over your head. You wore cotton—a simple white bra, and he wondered if you wore a matching set today.

He didn’t have to wait long to find out: you were already unzipping your pants, sliding stiff fabric down your legs, uncaring if it wrinkled. You’d have to remember to take it to the cleaners.

But later—now, you canted your hips forward, not caring about anything but the man in front of you.

So needy, he murmured, and wet.

His scent intoxicated you, his weight a delicious pressure against your skin.

Zhongli rocked against your clothed pussy, pleased to find you wet. You soaked through the cotton fabric, leaving an imprint in the shape of your pussy on your panties.

Fuck me, xiangsheng, please—I need it.

The scent of your arousal grew stronger with each tap against the wet spot. Heady, mind-numbing, as if a drug was coursing through his bloodstream. The amber of his hands grew darker, a deep, gorgeous fossilized hue, and his pupils thinned—they slitted into a sharp, almost feline countenance, predator to prey.

You would have me? he asked again, stars pulsing in his eyes. In his earlier days, before he was an archon, he had taken people without knowing what it really meant. The shame and guilt of it had made the act feel dirty for a long time—he went nearly fifty years without a single partner to help him through his ruts.

He would not make the same mistake with you.

Just fuck me.

He groaned, pulled your panties to the side—white cotton—and pushed himself into you, the entire length. It was tight and it burned as you struggled, walls stretching to accommodate his dick.

Feels so good, he grunted, you’re so tight, fuck. He lost himself in your tight heat, centuries of manners and poise melting before you.

He moved slowly at first, dragging his length out so that nothing but the tip remained inside before thrusting back in.

You shifted backward, trying to adjust to him. Soft pants, shallow—eyes squeezed shut to focus on each heavy stroke in and out of your cunt. When you started moving against him, seeking friction for yourself, Zhongli sped up. Kept most of his cock inside you with each stroke, prodding around for your sweet spot.

When he finally found it, earning a cry and squeeze around his cock that nearly made him cum, he smiled. Right there, pet?

You gasped, struggled to answer: Yeah, yeah-right there—

He continued to thrust, imprinting your insides with the shape of his dick, hitting that sensitive spot with almost boyish eagerness, but it still wasn’t enough to—

—You reached down to where his dick is splitting you apart and try to rub your clit, the hard nub aching for attention, but Zhongli pushed your hand away.

Allow me.

You almost whine—denial twisting your stomach into a tight knot, leaving your clit wanting, but he didn’t make you wait long. Deft fingers rubbed circles on your clit, grinding, until it swelled enough for him to pinch, hard.

Zhongli, please—

What did I say pet, he hummed and bit your earlobe in admonishment.

Xian-Xiansheng—

You were begging now, pleading—tears dripping from your face like fresh paint on canvas.

Please, xiansheng, please, I need it.

What do you need? He thrust forward, the head almost kissing your cervix.

Need…

Need what? Use your words, pretty pet. Another hard thrust, this time he touched your cervix. Half pain, half pleasure. Lines slowly starting to blur—was it because of his dick or your tears? You couldn’t tell.

You shook your head and fisted your hands in the collar of his suit, wrinkling the fine material as you dragged his face towards you to claim a kiss. Harsh and unyielding, a faint taste of iron between each ragged breath. Now you’d have to take two suits to the cleaners.

Vaguely, in the back of your mind, you’d forgotten how you even got into this situation in the first place. Something about lily bulb tea, alone time…and ruts…heats. Heat—were you the one in heat or was it him?

But it didn’t matter, all you knew was that:

Need to cum.

Zhongli’s pretty lips curled. And so you shall.

With one hand on your hips, he slammed his hips against yours in a punishing rhythm while his other hand battered your clit, thick fingers flicking the hard nub repeatedly until you felt nearly numb from the overstimulation. He felt you tense beneath him, hips rolling incessantly, your cunt gripping him so tightly he knew he was close.

Cum for me, he demanded, almost growling, give it to me.

And you obeyed—gave yourself over to the pleasure, moaning from the waves of pleasure washing over you.

Zhongli groaned as you contracted around him, each tight draw from your pussy taking him closer to his own release. Hips stuttering, he felt his fangs slip through, throbbing from the desire to taste you, bite you, mark you—

—Breed you.

It was messy, each time he pulled back and saw the amount of slick that coated his cock, his mind grew fuzzier, almost stupid. Zhongli couldn’t remember the last time he felt pussydrunk—

You bit the side of his neck as another orgasm ripped out of you, and this time Zhongli let himself go with a harsh growl, pulling out right as he cummed, thick ropes of sticky cum defiling your stomach. It was dizzyingly maddening: his cum moving with each shaky exhale, dripping onto your pussy, and Zhongli thought it was such a waste that it wasn’t inside you, filling you up. Some of it covered your clit—a glistening pearl. He fought every fiber of his being to not bend down and lick it. He didn’t like sweet things, but you were an exception.

“Did you learn a lot?” he finally asked after your breath had steadied a bit.

You were still coming down from your high, barely able to form a coherent sentence. “What?”

“I was teaching you,” he chuckled, voice husky. “Were you a good student? Paying attention?”

You thought about it for a moment. Looked at his disheveled appearance, his golden eyes, the wrinkles in his suit, and found it lacking.

“Not enough.”

“I am in agreement.”

Hutao narrowed her eyes. “You fucked him.”

“And what if I did? It’s not like you’ll fire me,” you replied lightly.

Hutao groaned. “I knew you wanted to fuck him, but I didn’t think you wanted to do it that badly. It’s not exactly good for my business, and you know he’ll stick to you for the rest of his season, right? That’s how it works for him. He doesn’t share.”

“Well good. Because I don’t either.” You wouldn’t have chosen him anyway if he liked to share. “But wait—what do you mean ‘not exactly good for your business?’”

The Wangsheng Director grinned at you. “Look at him: one of the most eligible bachelors in Liyue. Didn’t you notice that we have a large number of young clients? They come to Wangsheng because of him. I don’t care who Zhongli fucks as long as they give me their money—it keeps my beloved Wangsheng as the most profitable funeral parlor in Liyue.”

“Of course you would say that.” You laughed and thought about all the times your parents praised Hutao. “No wonder my parents sent me here to learn from you.”

Hutao winked. “Of course! Making money is the second best thing I’m good at.”

“What’s the first?”

“Death.”

uhhh i wrote this one about six-ish months ago too...been busy with zine work but hopefully when I'm done I can write more reader insert smut :') (also sorta tried a new style of dialogue lmao back when I wrote this)

Murata, also known as the God of War and the Lady of Fire, was a Pyro Archon and a member of The Seven who presided over Natlan.

先生 - xiānsheng. Has two main definitions: the first is teacher, the second is mister (Mr); gentleman; sir. Both suit Zhongli very well in this fic ;)

Dried lily bulb【百合】 is usually recommended in TCM (traditional Chinese medicine) clinics to treat coughs, dry throats and relieve heat. (But IRL, this doesn’t actually help with the horny feels LOL.) 

Zhongli as Morax has darker brown/amber skin tone on arms, so I chose to depict this in the fic as skin darkening when aroused. I also put a photo of something similar on an actual body. 

#Zhongli smut #zhongli x reader #zhongli x y/n #zhongli x you #zhongli fanfic #zhongli gi #genshin smut #Genshin x reader #zhongli genshin impact #hua!writes #zhongli x female reader #zhongli x f reader

[lewisyellowhelmet]

freefall (pt 2)

lewis hamilton x mercedes engineer!reader

read part 1 here !!

summary: You and Lewis have let this go on too far, and for too long. (You are an engineer for Mercedes on Lewis’ side of the garage).

content: 18+!!!! general m/f sex acts. coworker relationship. let me know if u want anything else flagged!

You wake cold. The hotel air conditioning has kicked on during the night, a familiar whir in the ceiling, and in your sleep you’ve pulled the covers up around your chin in an attempt to keep your body warmth in. It takes a few circulations of the room for you to find the off switch for the air-con. 

After, you stand against the big window until your alarm goes off, warm breath making a condensation cloud against the glass. You’re in Baku. No. Budapest. Budapest. You’ve been in this hotel before, you’ve seen this view. You have to close your eyes when the surge of memories come. The sound of Lewis singing to himself in the shower. His warm arm over your belly while you slept. Leaning over graphs together to try and figure out how to be faster, how to be better. Your iPhone is ringing, vibrating, morning alarm. The room is still cold. 

You get to the engineers room before Lewis does. It’s rained overnight, the track wet, the air brisk. Endless emails await you. The cars not right. Nothing is right. A headache is pulsing at your temples. Your coffee is cold before you remember to drink it. Others work around you. Recently, you’ve begun having this urge, strong and gripping, to stand up and be wild, to yell and scream. We were in love. We were in love and no one knew. I sacrificed that to give us another go at a championship and now you can’t even get the fucking car to work? 

  You have to close your eyes and practice box breathing until it passes. When you lift your head again, Lewis is moving around your desk to go into Toto’s office. He doesn’t look at you.

—

It has been a year. A hard year. You’d left the hotel room, left him, feeling on the verge of insanity. Lewis had let you go without much of a fight. It felt like his confession, his acceptance, had drained all his energy. Somewhere silent and hidden behind your heart, you wish he’d fought harder. Having to pretend nothing had happened in front of your co-workers was gut wrenching. Sleeping alone was worse. The break between seasons had helped, a forced separation, different cities, but now, in the thick of a new calendar, a new year, you were constantly turning corners and bumping into him. You couldn’t go back to the friendship you’d had before. And you couldn’t go forward into a new, adjusted working relationship. There was only a sense of coldness, of formality. No way forward, no way back. Only this compounding sense of dread, anticipating the next interaction. 

  Toto’s assistant sticks her head out of the office while you’re gazing unseeing at the screens in front of you, calling for you. Your bones feel stiff and unwilling as you unfold yourself, follow her into the small room. Lewis is sitting in front of the desk, one knee pulled up, gives you a polite smile upon your entrance. Toto is leaning back in his chair, fingers steepled, deep thinking. There are no chairs for you. You hover behind Lewis, and refuse to think about reaching out, touching the back of his neck, smoothing your fingers into his hair. 

  Generic meeting. A summary of free practice, and then qualifying from the day before. Plans for the day. Any new ideas? Any solutions? Your headache is getting stronger. No solutions. 

  Lewis holds the door open for you when the meeting is over, and you can smell him as you move past. Familiar cologne. He used to laugh when you buried his face in his neck, sniffed over-dramatically, pretending to be a curious dog. He’d wriggled from the sensation, your tickling mouth, pressing nose. Pretended he didn’t like it, but always made sure to wear your favourite smell everyday anyway. 

  You need paracetamol. Too late you realise he’s following you to hospitality, where the first aid kit is stored. He is a step behind, lagging, despite easily being able to match your pace. You feel the gap keenly, an open wound. 

—

The over-ear headphones drown out the noise of the garage. This, at least, you can do. Go through the motions of race day, a familiar rhythm. Positioned on your stool in front of your screens, the microphone against your mouth, the final, tenuous connection between you and Lewis. A direct line between you and him. You go through the regular checks together, safety, engine, ensuring the connection is clear. The cars roar. The adrenaline pounds. 

  “Ready?” You ask. 

  “Ready.” 

You chew on the inside of your mouth so you don’t say, be safe, be careful. The lights flash down. The engines rev. The job begins. 

—

The air conditioning is on again in the hotel room. They’ve been in to change the sheets, the towels, vacuumed. You feel stupid with fatigue, with loneliness, with missing him. The after-race meetings had dragged. Lewis was tired. The atmosphere was tense. You want to sleep for ten years, but there is a plane to catch first thing tomorrow morning. There are spirits in the mini-fridge, ice clear and beckoning. You drink two in the shower, and another in front of BBC World News on the television. Are you dreaming? Is this real life? The gin gives everything a foggy haze. Your steps are unsteady. You sit in bed and scroll through yours and Lewis’ text threads. Room numbers. Memes. Inside jokes texted under the table during long meetings. You manage to convince yourself its a mistake when you tap through to his contact number, watch it dial, ring through. Listen to the connecting sound, hear him say, “hello?” before you realise what’s happened, what you’ve done, what rule you’ve broken. You hang up. Hot panic. The newsreader is talking about weather. Lewis is calling back, already, and you watch it ring out. You feel frozen by horror. The room is so cold, and the fridge is worse as you reach in, tiny bottles clinking together. Vodka this time. Forget, forget, forget. 

There’s someone knocking on the door. You manage to get yourself into a hotel issued robe, pull it tight, before you get into the small hallway, fumble with the handle, get the door open. You swear, and Lewis has to reach out to stop you closing the door again. 

  “Are you alright?” He asks. 

  “Yes,” you insist. 

  “You called me.” 

  “Did I? It must have been a mistake.”

Your voice sounds fake, even to you, the laugh reedy and broken. 

  “Are you drunk?” Lewis asks. 

  “No,” you lie. 

He drops his arm from where it was holding open the door. He’s wearing pyjama pants and a worn grey hoodie. One you used to wear to go make the coffee in the morning. You can tell from the softness of his expression he’s been recently asleep. You should shut the door now. Block him out again. Go to bed. Instead, you feel yourself start to cry, building in your chest, the tightness in your throat, burning in your eyes. 

  “Babe,” he says, so sad, so concerned, and the sob you emit is embarrassing and loud. You have to let go of the door to cover your face, feeling your back curve over. Lewis is gentle about coming inside, guiding you to the bed, tucking you in. He brings you a glass of water, makes you have three big sips. You’re still crying, childlike, red faced and snotty. He passes you tissues, strokes your hair. 

  “I’m sorry,” you start to say, even as he shushes you, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” he murmurs, “Everything’s okay.” 

You feel as if the world is ending. Crying like this in front of him. Drunk and messy. And the room is so fucking cold. 

  “Can you,” you stumble, wriggling over in the bed, throwing open the covers, “I’m really cold.” 

He says your name the way he used to say it, warm and intimate, a nickname. Like a lover. Like a partner. 

  “Are you sure?” He asks, even as you’re reaching out for him, dragging him in. 

  “Please,” you say, “I’m cold.” 

He tastes salty when you kiss him, your own tears on his mouth. He makes a wounded sound, but then he’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you to his chest, his leg over yours. You feel held, sheltered. He lets you kiss him again, deeper, better. 

  “I’m sorry,” you say again, when you need to breathe, and he’s smiling, warm eyes, smoothing you hair off your face. 

  “It’s okay,” he repeats, “Whatever you need.” 

Your hands are fists in his hoodie, “I need you.” 

  “How do you need me?”

  “Like this,” you whisper, lips brushing his, taking his hand to slip into your robe, over your breast. He sighs out a breath as his fingers touch your nipple, swipe over it again so you make a small, wanting noise. 

  It feels dreamlike, a long awaited thing. A rush, almost, to get out of your robe, Lewis out of his own clothes so you can sling a leg over his waist, face hidden in the crook of his neck as he pushes into you, his big hand tangled in your hair, holding you to him. Rasping breaths, the sudden heat of two bodies working together, the length of him inside you, pushing deep. It feels instinctual, animalistic, breathing him in, trying to remember everything, compartmentalise every second, every touch, every groan. Lewis rolls you onto your back, but stays close, his mouth finding yours, sharing breath as he grinds into you. You come quickly, nothing controlled, grasping at him and panting, shaking through it. Lewis holds himself there, lets you shudder and cry out, pulsing around him. His eyes are dark and liquid, but he keeps watching you, like he’s trying to remember as well, be present for everything. You don’t want this to ever end. When you can breathe again, he returns to his rythym, steady knocks of his hips into yours, the rush of his breath, of his body. His face drops into your neck when he finishes, hands gripping you like he will never let go again. You feel new, hot tears leak down your face as you hold him. 

—

You wake warm, this time. You’re curled around yourself, a child, with Lewis aligned to your back, his face against your spine, his arm over you, protecting you. You’re facing the window, curtains left open, blinking at an apartment building, holding hundreds of different lives, different bedrooms, different people. Lewis is still asleep, you can tell from the steadiness of his breath, the sleep-weight of his body over yours. You place your hand over his, interlinking knuckles. The more you wake up, the more you feel embarrassed, shame curdling in your belly. He’s done this out of pity. How gross, to call him, drunk, drag him into bed with you, to beg. You feel overheated, suddenly, untangle yourself from him, slip out of the covers and into the bathroom, pulling the sliding door to encase yourself in the marble and glass. Your eyes are swollen from crying. You mouth is bruised pink from him. There are fingertip bruises on your waist from where he’s held you. You have to sit on the lip of the built in tub so you don’t throw up, or start crying again. You haven’t washed your hair in a few days, and it hangs limp around your fingers, head in your hands, again. Hiding. Wanting to disappear. Your hangover makes you tremble. You’ve failed. You failed years ago, when you looped your arms around his neck and kissed him for the first time. You failed again when you turned your back on him. And now, to be so weak, to force him to do this again, to look after you. 

  The bathroom door slides open. Lewis is in your robe, tight around his shoulders. You try to smile at him, but even without seeing you know it’s more of a grimace. 

  “I don’t know what to say,” you tell him, raking your hands through your hair, “I’m just so, so sorry.” 

  “You said that a lot last night.” 

Lewis doesn’t move any further into the room. Stays in the doorway. Watches. Witnesses. 

  “I can’t believe I. I’m so embarrassed.”

He shakes his head, “Don’t be.” 

  “Lewis,” you’re speechless. What is there to say? How to apologise? To take back? 

  “Look,” he spreads his hands, surrender, “We don’t have to talk about it. It never happened.” 

  “Never happened,” you echo. Vomit threatens. Never happened. 

  “If that’s what you want,” Lewis says. 

You’re nodding, looking down at your bare feet on the tiles, “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

  The silence makes you want to scream. Just to break it. You can hear your heartbeat in your head. A constant pound. You stay there, on the edge of the bathtub, while he gets dressed. He doesn’t look in on his way out. The door shuts with a finality. 

—

You fly to Oxford. He flies to Monaco. You don’t speak. 

—

It happens in the middle of the night. The off season. When you check your phone for the first time the next morning, waiting for the kettle to boil, you have so many missed calls your phone has stopped counting them. The photos are blurry, but it’s obvious if you know what you’re looking for. Through a small window in the door of your office. In the first one, you’re just laughing together, the second you are reaching for his hand, the final one you are in his lap, your mouth hidden by his, Lewis’ big hands in your hair. You’re still staring at them when he calls. He does’t say anything when you pick you. You just breathe, together, for a long moment. 

  “So it happened,” you finally say. 

  “It happened,” he agrees. 

  “I haven’t spoken to anyone else yet. I just woke up,” you say. 

  “Don’t,” he says, “I’m going to fly in this afternoon. We’ll have a meeting with the publicists. Toto wants HR there, as well.” 

  “Fuck.” 

You hesitate, and then, “Was Toto mad?”

  “He wasn’t happy. He reckons Susie knew and didn’t tell him.” 

  “Where did the photos come from?”

  “Ex-employee, they think. Was waiting for the right time.” 

  “And now is the right time?” You can hear the edge of hysteria in your voice. 

  “I’m really sorry,” Lewis says. 

  “It’s not your fault.” 

  “I’m still sorry.”

You need to boil the kettle again, tea forgotten. You realise you're gripping the kitchen bench so hard your knuckles have gone white. You let go. You look out over the garden, crisp with morning frost. Christmas soon. You’ll have to explain to your family. 

  “Did Toto say anything about my job?” You ask, feeling sick at the thought. 

  “No. I said if he fired you, I would quit.” 

  “Don’t be stupid.” 

  “I’m not.” 

There’s quiet again. You flick the kettle on.

  “I think it’s good if we come in together. We can plan what we want to say. I can pick you up from your house,” he says. 

  “Alright.” 

  “Don’t answer any numbers you don’t know, okay? Media might call.”

  “Really? I was just gonna pick up strange numbers all day,” you say, a bite in your tone. Lewis laughs though, an amused huff. 

  “You’re right, sorry. I’m control-freaking.” 

You hum an agreement. 

  "I’ll see you soon, then,” he says. 

  You suddenly have a fierce urge not to let him end the call, to let his voice anchor you. 

  “Alright,” you say, and hang up first. 

—

The meeting is awful, of course. People are panicking. Toto scolds. You go silent. Lewis rages. In the end, the core group sits silent around a meeting table. The most promising solution is to paint it as star-crossed lovers, meant to be, soulmates. Refusing to be kept apart by jobs and contracts. This would be perfect, perhaps, if you were still together. 

  “Could you pretend? Until it died down,” Toto had said. 

  “No,” you’d snapped, speaking over Lewis’, “It depends what she wants.” 

Now, the silence is stale, nothing left to say, but no agreement reached. Your eyes prick with fatigue. 

—

Lewis drives you home. When he pulls into the driveway, you’re too tired to get out of the car. There is a light on inside. Your mum must be here, checking in on you. Has heard somehow, which must mean it's on the internet.

  “How are you feeling?” Lewis asks, when you make no move to open the door. 

  “Tired,” you say, “You?”

  “Sad.” 

It’s unconscious, reaching to to touch his leg, an urge to comfort. He sighs. The muscle of him is warm through his jeans. 

  “If this had happened a year ago,” he starts, and stops, shaking his head, “Doesn’t matter.” 

  “If it happened a year ago, what?” You say. He shrugs. 

  “Everything might have turned out okay.” 

You turn your face from him, look out the window into the dark street. It makes your heart throb painfully to see him. You can’t speak through a thick, swollen throat. 

  “I’m sorry I didn’t say it,” you finally manage to whisper. Your hand is still on his thigh. 

  “Didn’t say what?" 

You close your eyes, lean to rest your forehead on the car window with a thunk. 

  “Didn’t say that I loved you back.”

  “Did you?” 

 You laugh, exhausted from carrying it for so long, “Lewis. Of course. Of course I do. So much.” 

  “You do?”

Your eyes fly open, realising your mistake. You snatch your hand from his leg, turn to face him, “I did. I did then.” 

  “You don’t love me anymore,” he clarifies. He’s frowning, forehead creased. The night is pressing in on the car, dark and claustrophobic. You can’t speak. 

  “Because nothing has changed for me. I feel the same as I did then,” Lewis says, and you can see how he’s working to speak, jaw twitching, forcing the words out. Something private, and hidden, being pushed into the open. You’re pressing your hands together in your lap, painfully tight. 

  “Alright,” you say, hate yourself for it. He looks away. His eyes are gleaming. 

  “Alright.”

You get out of the car. Stiff and awkward. You get your key in the front door, hear him turn the engine back on. Fear is clawing at your chest. You turn around anyway, back down the steps, jump in front of the car so he has to slam on the breaks, a screech breaking the night air. He’s opening the drivers door at the same time you’re trying to open it, get to him. He’s half out of the car and you’re half in when you kiss him, cold air, warm mouths. He’s grasping your head, holding you steady. 

  "I’m sorry,” you’re panting, “I’m sorry.” 

  “Stop apologising,” Lewis says, “What’s done is done.” 

You keep kissing him, his face, his nose, his jaw. 

  “I love you,” you press into his skin, you kiss into his mouth, “I love you.” 

Lewis is pulling you into his lap, back into the car, pulling the door shut again, crammed in. Your hands under his shirt, feeling his skin, feeling him breathe. 

  “Do you?” He asks, holding your face in front of him. You feel your face hurt with how wide you are grinning, a release of something held inside for so long. Your hands mirror his on his face, precious in your fingers. 

  “I do. I do. I love you.” 

Lewis half laughs, half sobs. His eyes are shining. The car horn beeps from a stray elbow. You keep kissing him anyway. 

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton smut #f1 smut #f1 imagine #*