#officially yours `` event oneshot

[chuluoyi]

MARRIED ON PURPOSE

- gojo satoru x reader

"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.

genre: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here

note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.

“Don't look that sour now, wife.”

“…sigh.”

A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”

But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.

It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.

You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?

Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.

It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.

He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.

"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."

That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.

"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.

His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.

Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."

"Who?"

"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."

Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.

"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"

"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"

"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."

At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.

. . .

BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.

At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.

"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.

"I am smiling, Gojo."

"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"

Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?

MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"

You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.

And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.

"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"

"And why?! Why should I do that?!"

"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."

"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"

"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."

Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.

The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.

You really had no choice, huh?

"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."

Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—

His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."

You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.

This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.

"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."

"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."

And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.

"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.

"The master! And the lady!"

Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—

"What's happening here?"

The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.

The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.

"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."

Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!

"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"

With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.

"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.

The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"

"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"

You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?

"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"

This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.

Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.

"You—you devil! You bit me!"

"Serves you right!"

Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.

And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.

"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"

You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No, but it shouldn't—"

"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"

For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.

The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.

“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”

He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”

“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”

"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"

You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"

"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"

You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.

"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"

You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"

"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"

"News flash: temporary wife."

"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"

You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."

Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.

Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?

"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."

"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"

"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"

"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."

Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.

"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.

He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.

"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.

Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…

You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.

Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.

"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.

Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"

And what came next was like a crack of thunder.

"How insolent!"

You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—

"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."

You had never whipped your head so fast.

There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.

"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.

"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.

"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"

“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."

"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"

"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."

Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.

"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."

"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.

His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."

And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—

You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—

"Pfft, you wish."

—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.

MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.

Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.

You could only imagine what he must feel.

. . .

When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.

"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.

It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.

It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"

"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."

Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.

Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.

You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"

"Whoa, that's sweet of—"

"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."

You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.

Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?

Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?

Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.

Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.

And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.

"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."

"Heh." I really am, aren't I?

"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"

He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."

You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.

Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.

"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."

"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.

Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.

But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.

"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.

"Consider this emotional support."

And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.

How?

You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.

Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.

You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.

His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.

Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.

"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."

"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—

Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?

His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.

He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.

There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.

"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.

You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—

"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.

If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.

But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.

MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.

You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.

This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.

You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.

But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.

This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...

Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.

The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?

With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.

. . .

If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.

Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.

And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.

How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.

When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"

You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"

Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.

Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?

The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."

Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."

It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!

Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.

Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.

Why? All reasons already listed above.

Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.

With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"

His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"

"Just give me an answer."

"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.

"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"

Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.

Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"

"Hey!"

"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."

An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.

Then it’s sealed.

Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.

The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—

“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”

Riiip~

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took of his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.

“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”

You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.

“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”

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[harleehazbinfics]

Cannibal Chef!Reader

an Alastor fanfiction

intro/blurb:

"Would you still love me if I asked for your flesh and bones? I'd drink up your blood until there's nothing left of you. Isn't that the ultimate form of love?"

Contents:

Cannibal Chef!Reader (imagine)

Loveit? (drabble)

Love eat? (Official Oneshot)

Outfits (drabble)

Breakfast with you (drabble)

About Contracts (drabble) → I COMPLETELY FORGOT

First impression: Vox (drabble)

A Day Off without You (drabble)

Hello Rosie (imagine)

Cookies for Everyone! (drabble)

Crazy for You! (drabble)

Busted (drabble)

The Fucking Cat (drabble)

Love Rival? (drabble)

More Fucking Cats (drabble cont.)

Distracted (drabble)

Trying to Flirt with You (drabble)

New Suit (drabble)

Insulted (drabble)

Cannibal Overlord! Reader Spin-off:

Cannibal Overlord! Reader

Pleasure to meet you!

A moment in Hell's Greatest Kitchen

Extras:

Cannibal Reader w Rosie (art by @waynestates)

First Encounter (art by @rushofrain)

Cannibal Reader and Calastor (art by @justakixa)

Cannibal Reader cutie! (art by @waynestates)

EVENT!!

► Draw your own Cannibal Reader: link

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin lucifer #hazbin husk #alastor x reader #hazbin vaggie #cannibal chef reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #the radio demon

[diyahatnight]

Warnings : NSFW Oneshot of a head cannon I made. Smut with a dialogue.

Minor dni

Giyuu Tomioka x Hashira f!reader

Summary : The topic surfs up about your boyfriend Giyu being a virgin, even though the other hashira’s didn’t know his past. You began to have flashbacks about what it’s like to be in bed with him.

Notes : This was requested by someone but it won’t let me tag them. Sorry it took so long to write this, i was being lazy. I’m also really bad a writing smut so let me know if there are any problems. There was another person who also requested: @lakainamelolita

I don’t proofread fyi

You and Giyuu had a private relationship, it wasn’t because the both of you were scared of people finding out, but because it was better and easier that way.

The other hashira’s knew you two were close friends, but it never crossed their minds that you two were together romantically. Even though it was quite obvious the only person who thought you two were in a relationship was Sanemi. He shot his own thought down when he looked at Giyuu and then at you and said to himself “nah she’s not that stupid to date an idiot like that guy.”

How you guys started the relationship was weird, you two were strictly just friends with obvious feelings for eachother. Until one night out together you guys returned to your mansion drunk, and one thing lead to another and y’all had sex in one of the many rooms.

Both of you remember that night exactly from how it started to how it ended, that being your first time it was the best sex you’ve ever had. He was so gentle with you but yet still had you crying.

You assumed because you were close friends, it would be awkward so you started avoiding him. While you were working out one day he came to ask you why you were avoiding him and you being confused asked if he didn’t think it was awkward and he said no. So then boom friends again, then about 2 weeks after bloomed a relationship.

There was the annual Hashira gathering, this wasn’t a fancy event or anything it was just a usual thing you guys do just to keep up with eachother. You guys were just a big ol family that just stayed in eachothers lives.

While chatting, Tengen got the question about how sex works with his 3 wives. Does each girl get their own moment or is it just a foursome?

That question brought up a sex topic amongst the hashira’s just telling out their business because there isn’t a personal bubble around them. ( discluding Muichiro for obvious reasons.)

When Shinobu started talking she called out the fact that Giyuu has been quiet the entire time, then started saying “Are you quiet because you’re a virgin?” thus bringing about her calling him “Giyuu the virgin.”

Giyuu didn’t say anything, he just shook his head. As they were laughing about Giyuu being the only Virgin amongst them you started getting flashbacks.

When you and Giyuu were just friends, he told you about his back story. He was a quiet guy, but getting girls in bed was like a second nature to him. He told you about all his sexual experiences, the good ones and the bad ones. You were flabbergasted to find out this side to him. That proving the point “it’s always the quiet guys.”

He was such a slut and it wasn’t obvious until you were one of the girls to be in bed with him.

The day that you two made it official he swore on his life that no one will get in the middle of this relationship. You were the only girl he’s been interested in ever since he first met you. You were his dream girl and so very perfect for him. He even slit his wrist as his own way as a pinky promise. He didn’t know why he did it he just did for some reason.

That same night he wanted to prove to you that you had all of him. And he knew the best way to prove that. He initiated the first move, you knew what he wanted when he was kissing you and he started pushing you more into the bed than you already were.

Next thing you new he was taking off yours and his kimono. The first round he was simply making love to you, he was being gentle and he finger prepped to make sure you had no pain on your end. He slowly pushed himself in to make sure that you had time to adjust to his length and thickness.

His pace was slow but harsh, each thrust were hitting all the right spots so perfectly. The first round he was fucking you so lovingly. He had your fingers intertwined with his as he had your hands above your head. When you reached your orgasm he made sure to give you some time before he reached his own orgasm. Pulling out then cuming on your belly.

He caught you off guard when he used his fingers to scoop up his cum off your belly, then sticking it in your mouth. What caught you even more off guard is when he started pushing both of your legs to your chest hinting that there was going to be another round.

This time without warning he just penetrated you and you let out a little squeal at the sudden sensation. This time his thrusts weren’t slow, they were fast and rough. But because of the position you were in you couldn’t hear the sound of skin slapping, but there was definitely a sound.

His new pace had your head thrown all the way back and you gripping into the sheets. Your orgasm came faster than it did before, your eyes tearing up and sending you into a haze because you were already sensitive from your first orgasm.

when his came he once again came on your belly then scooped it up and stuck it in your mouth.

He randomly flipped you over on your hands and knees, arching your back and forcing your face into the pillow. He forcefully pushed himself into your hole this time and that got a loud moan from you. His pace was somehow faster than his pace from the second round.

This time you can hear the sound of skin slapping, he was so focused on making you feel good he didn’t even realize how much he was digging into the skin of your ass. Letting out small grunts as he watched you tear apart before him. It turned him on so much he started to pick up the pace.

You were like jelly in the palm of his hands, you were trying to tell him to slow down but you couldn’t make out full sentences. You started to cry at all the pleasure and then the pain when your orgasm started to arise. This was the third orgasm i’m the row and it was starting to hurt because you were so sensitive.

The sex was so good but it was the orgasm that had you crying beneath him. When you came you had blacked out for a second and then came back to reality when he asked for permission to cum inside of you.

This time you told him yes, and that he did. After both of you collapsed and you snuggled up next to him as he apologized and started kissing your forehead.

You said that the both of you should go and shower together and he agreed. The beginning of the shower was just a normal couples shower, until one thing happened and then another then a 4th round became in that shower.

You snapped out of your thoughts, clearing the flash back you just had when Giyuu touched your thigh. “You okay?” he was a tiny bit concerned on why you all of a sudden got so quiet.

You shook your head yes, but you had the reason for the quietness written all over your face. He couldn’t help but give you a small smirk.

He was happy to know that you knew who he really was and you being the only person in the room who’s got to experience it.

Now i have to write the next fanfic for the next person (i’m just doing fan service)

#demon slayer #kny headcanons #kny oneshots #demon slayer smut #kny smut #giyuu x reader #giyuu smut #giyuu oneshot #giyuu headcanons #giyuu tomioka #giyuu tomioka smut #giyuu tomioka x reader #giyuu tomioka x reader smut #demon slayer smut head cannons #demon slayer giyuu tomioka #demon slayer giyuu #demon slayer x reader

[chuuyrr]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִ 𓆩 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐈 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 ‧₊ 𓆪 fallen angel! dazai osamu , f! angel! reader . . .

dazai osamu descends from heaven's heights, burdened by his own demons and desires. amidst his descent, he encounters you, a beacon of purity. regardless of his dark past and the weight of his transgressions, he finds himself inexplicably drawn to your innocence and light, and so the fallen grapples with the ultimate sacrifice, to fall from grace for the chance at true love.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ on-going, slow updates . . .

𝐂𝐖(𝐬) ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ angels! au, religious themes: inspired by éloa (1824), a poem about a f! angel falling for a "stranger", which is also inspired by the hades and persephone myth, mostly sfw, only one chapter will contain nsfw and it can be skipped

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ i can fix him (no really i can), guilty as sin? & false god by taylor swift

‧₊ ࿐ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 .ᐟ

𝐢. 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋, 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄

sfw. in which he sought to reclaim his lost light, and like a moth to a flame, he found it in you, an angel of light

𝐢𝐢. 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍, 𝐘𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄

nsfw. amidst tangled bedsheets, you yearn for his love and grace, echoing their own longing for acceptance.

this chapter can be skipped .ᐟ

𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑, 𝐈'𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄

sfw. despite all, he chooses you, and you choose him too, even it means to fall again just to take you with him

𝐀.𝐍. ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ this is my official submission for @kentopedia's "love through the ages" collab event. it was supposed to be a oneshot fic only for fallen angel! dazai osamu, but i just recently decided to turn it into series fic .ᐟ

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x y/n #dazai osamu x you #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #dazai x fem reader #bsd dazai #dazai x reader smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs dazai #bungo stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x y/n #bungou stray dogs x you #bsd x reader smut

[chimini3]

Acouasm

Acouasm (n.) a ringing noise in your head

Synopsis: When your relationship with Kim Taehyung goes public, a walk down the red carpet turns south when you are attacked.

Notes: I had so much to write in this fic but it ended up being sub par and I wanna release it on V’s birthday, so I’ll probably work on another one similar to this situation. I even had another draft but I thought it was too gorey and violent 🥲 Anyways HAPPY BIRTHDAY V! Enjoy reading and thank you so much for liking my past oneshot Saudade.

Word Count: 11.9k

Your relationship with BTS’ Kim Taehyung had a long story.

You came from the same highschool and had been acquainted before, though you hadn’t interacted apart from a few glances in the halls. He was a few years older than you and Korean Arts High School was populated with soon to be popular faces, so you didn’t expect him to remember much about you. However, that didn’t stop you from having a massive crush on him as he seemed to be way different from his fellow BigHit trainee, Jimin.

Taehyung was more reserved and usually kept to a close knit of friends during school hours, though everyone seemed to know him and he knew everyone. He didn’t have any official relationships with anyone during highschool, yet it wasn’t like he was coined a loser. He was oh so much your type, though your crush on him didn’t last long after he graduated.

You knew he debuted in a boy group with his friend Jimin, and that was as far as you knew about his whereabouts. You didn’t have time to worry about him when you were already facing some difficulties in your own life at that time.

You were picked up by a more trustable agency in your third year of highschool. They were adamant on debuting a girl group and you were determined to be a part of that, so you trained harder than you have ever trained, worked harder than you’ve ever worked, and you finally got your pay off when you debuted three years after.

It was 2017 and your debut went smoothly. You weren’t an instant flop, though you weren’t an instant pop either. However, with enough work in producing three albums for your first year, you managed to come through and win the Mama 2017 Best New Artist Award.

Winning an award and enjoying your time performing songs and watching the other idol groups perform in the 2017 Mnet Asian Music Awards also meant that you would make a few new friends during the event. Your group had to switch seats often during the first half, so you had a lot of interactions with other groups. Coincidentally, landing seats right in front of a particularly cheery idol group for the rest of the night.

“Bangtan Sonyeondan! Congratulations!” The woman speaks onto the microphone as the group of boys behind you cheered and gathered into a group hug before they all started making their way out to the stage, and a specific pair of bright eyes catches yours as he passes by. Kim Taehyung.

You didn’t hold back a smile when you realized it was his group who had won a daesang. You clapped your hands even louder to congratulate him as he bows to you and your group and fixes his blonde hair that was held back by a cloth headband.

Later that night when a message from him surprised you. It turns out a director had forwarded your KakaoTalk to him after he asked, and he had made the time to message you despite the fact that they should be celebrating after their win by now.

A few messages at night had turned into friendly calls when no one was around. It was damn obvious that he was interested in you and you couldn’t say that your highschool crush on him had gone away after all these years. He was charming and he understood the struggles of being an idol.

When you and your bandmates would fight then he would drop anything to message or call you to listen to you vent. When he was having a particularly rough time with his schedules, he made sure that you would know and yet still made time to check up on you. Both of you would even be preparing for a comeback at the same time, and yet both of you supported each other through all of it. He was a rock you could lean on and you were an ear for him to rant to.

Soon after, you started hanging out with each other in your free time. It wasn’t a date or anything of the sorts. He just so happens to want to buy something when you would go on errands. He would joke that a popular idol like you shouldn’t be grocery shopping alone despite the fact that he was in fact more popular than you, though you never held jealousy over that fact. You were actually proud of him and his group after you learned of their earlier hardships, and you were even prouder when he would vent to you about their contract problems early 2018.

You two would try new coffee spots together and even watch the new Marvel movies together. Taehyung was certain that Doctor Strange was his favorite Marvel superhero because of his amazing cape, and didn’t hide that fact when he went on an interview in LA that asked him about it. You two even commented on each other’s interviews from time to time since you were both learning English and you two found it helpful to learn from each other.

And don’t start about how you couldn’t take your eyes off of him during Mama 2018, not when you two were on a call the night before he got his hair colored and you sent him a picture of the brightest pink you could see on Google to dare him into changing his hair that same hue. It was a funny joke, yet he called you the night after with the same hue on his hair. You would watch the American movie Trolls together through the call that night and his nickname on KakaoTalk would be changed for the very first time to ‘Poppy Imposter’ alluding to the pink haired Troll in the movie.

After a year of steadily getting closer and calling each other friends, he finally confessed to you. You knew he liked you and he knew that you knew he liked you, yet it still seemed like your heart was palpitating out of your chest. He didn’t kiss you. He simply stated a fact and said that he wanted to court you, and God did you fall for him even harder.

When he asked you out on a first date, he also asked for your parents’ permission. He made sure to make it known that he was serious about you and you were sure that this man couldn’t do anything more to make you fall for him more.

He was such a romantic. He made sure everything was done how it should be. He made sure to pick you up for your date with a bouquet of flowers for you and your mother. He made sure to greet your parents by the front door. He assured your father that he would keep you safe and take you home by your curfew. Despite the fact that you were a full-grown adult and had your own apartment to go home to. He opened the door of his car for you and he pulled the chair of the fancy restaurant for you. He was a true gentleman, and it didn’t take more than five months for you to answer him.

Both your companies knew of your affairs. Taehyung wasn’t exactly quiet about you and you can’t say no to him when he would ask you to go on a late night walk with him whenever you were in the same city. Your companies would help payout any media networks that saw you two in your public dates, though that didn’t stop other idols from gossiping about your relationship. It was getting harder for them to contain you two especially when he went on longer promotion stints outside Korea, and your appearance near his apartment anytime BTS arrived in Korea didn’t go unnoticed. You were two lovers deeply in love, and it got worse during Mama 2019.

“You’re up in ten minutes ladies!” A stage director yells to the hallway over the chaos of staff around us. You and your group were about to enter the dark backstage to prepare for the penultimate performance of the evening, right before BTS.

You had seen your boyfriend and his group leave the artist area earlier, though it seemed like they weren’t going to the waiting rooms directly. You just hoped he could watch your performance on his phone. Despite already seeing each other’s performances during rehearsals.

“Wait! Don’t go up yet! The backstage is still not ready!” Another staff member yelled as an older member tried to make a move to get inside the backstage.

You sigh as the crowded and loud surroundings begin to make you nervous. You could feel sweat gathering on your forehead as a makeup artist tried to dry it down. How long were they going to announce the awards?

The makeup artist by your side leaves to fix up your other members and you take the opportunity to find something in the hallway to keep your attention on. The more you could distract yourself from the chaotic environment the better, so you looked down both sides of the hallway and watched props and staff pass by.

There in the busy and harshly lit hallway was your messy haired boyfriend with a bright red cardigan, that he specifically wore for you to notice him in the crowd of idols, push past the crowd to look for you. His bandmates seemed to get inside their own waiting room to prepare whilst Jimin and Jungkook waited by the door to watch him find his way to you. His overgrown and curled hair was doing nothing to help him find you, though once his eyes met yours at the end of the hallway, you could feel a smile creep onto your cheeks.

“Hey!” Taehyung greets as he walks a few more steps to stand in front of you. He brushes his hair aside and shows you his warm brown eyes, void of any colored contact lenses. His smile was bright as you notice sweat on his forehead.

“Good luck out there. You’re going to kill it, I swear.” Taehyung cheers as you smile at him and nod. He reaches to hold both your hands as you only realize that they were shaking when his gentle and steady ones encapsulates them.

“I should be the one calming you down. You have five songs to do!” You say with a chuckle as he chuckles with you and brings your hands to kiss its knuckles. His lips hover a little longer over your left ring finger, though you don’t notice.

“I perform five songs, but I’m not the popular worldstar that South Korea votes as number one on the most beautiful female artists.” Taehyung says with a shrug as a more boisterous laugh comes out of you.

“Okay, and you talk as if you aren’t internationally known for a handsome face.” You throw back as Taehyung rolls his eye and lets go of one of your hands to throw his hair out his face and show you one nasty pimple that had been growing on his forehead. He had actually been pulling back his dermatologist and facial appointment, so that he could do both of them with you. He wanted to keep your dates ‘unique’ he says.

“Don’t show that around here Tae! You’re going to get exposed!” You scolded as he laughed and shook his head to glance at the even more incriminating position you both were in. Closely standing next to each other with your hands held together and both your eyes shimmering with that profound love. If someone was to take a picture to expose you two then could they send it to him too because he wants to take this moment and make it his phone’s lock screen.

“Taehyung! You have to get ready!”

“Y/N! We can enter the backstage already!”

Both your bandmates say at the same time, though neither of your eyes fall to look away from each other.

“I love you. Be careful in performing and don’t be nervous. You’re amazing and always will be.” Taehyung says as his soft hands grab hold of your jaw to direct your lips to his. The kiss was soft and ended quickly, though the energy and ease it gave you was a pill that made you feel like you could do everything you put your mind to.

“I love you too. Be careful in your performance too. I know you’ll do great already. I might miss the first part of it though, since they won’t let us out immediately after.” You pouted as Taehyung chuckled and pecked a kiss on your forehead whilst rubbing your shoulder to assure you that he didn’t mind.

“I can’t even watch yours live. I have to watch it in the waiting room, but I’ll make sure to cheer for you just as much. We’ll watch the replay later on the TV anyways. My place and some good takeout?” Taehyung proposes as you were always welcome to a night at his place.

“We’ll see if you aren’t blackout drunk from the celebrations.” You chuckled as you were slowly inching away from your lover. You can hear your leader call out to you multiple times already and your manager was coming down the hall, so you really had to close this off.

Thankfully, Taehyung only laughed and let you go. He even waved to you as you disappeared backstage. He wasn’t going to get drunk tonight, perhaps tipsy, but he would much rather remember a night with you than drink. He wasn’t much of an alcohol fan anyways. A glass of wine with you seemed much more his taste.

And that was what ended up happening. The two of you sprawled out on his sofa at six in the morning. Takeout food littered the coffee table along with glasses of wine and a replay of your MMA performances.

After the event, the two of you parted ways to go to separate afterparties for a few hours before you both excused yourselves and got to Taehyung’s apartment. You two had laughed over some funny playbacks that you missed during the event, and you celebrated on your own two ways.

Taehyung had brought you out to his balcony when he saw the sun rising. He felt like a true winner as he watched you bury yourself in his hoodie under a thick blanket on his balcony’s couch. The silence engulfing you two as sleep ate away at your high. Events like the Mnet Asian Music Awards and Melon Music Awards always had your sleeping schedules messed up, though he didn’t mind. How could he mind when the award shows were the reason why he had seen your beauty in the first place.

He thinks that even if you weren’t there in MAMA 2017 then he would have still fallen in love with you some other way. He believes that in different dimensions he still finds a way to find you and love you. He always will, and there was no universe out there that Kim Taehyung existed without you.

“Hey… look at me.” Taehyung breaks the silence as you turn to face him. The sky was only beginning to get lighter, though you were both still enclosed in darkness and the warm lights he had around his balcony.

“I would have never thought that the sophomore I saw in the hallways during break would have me wrapped around their finger in five years time. I would have never thought that the all-rounder of the girl group who won best new artist in MAMA 2017 would have me asking multiple staff members for her number. But what I now know is that I love this sophomore and I love this all-rounder. I love you. I love you so much, and I know for a fact that there is no one else I could love this much. Kim Taehyung in other realities always falls in love with Y/L/N Y/N and I don’t need to be Doctor Strange to know that. So…” Taehyung pauses as he stands up and grabs a box from his sweatpant’s pocket.

You were staring at him in shock and awe as you processed his words whilst trying to process his movements. You two were too young to get married. He knew that and you two had jokingly discussed that, so what the hell was he doing?!

“I’m not proposing. Don’t worry.” Taehyung chuckles as he bends both his knees to crouch on the floor and presents you with a cream box. He opens it to reveal two gorgeous Bvlgari Couple Rings. Both were of the color silver, though one was littered with gems and the other was plain.

Taehyung places the box on the table in front of the couch as he takes the ring littered with gems and softly reaches for your hand just like earlier. He takes your left hand and kisses the knuckle right above your ring finger as he looks up at you with doe eyes. The sun’s rays appeared higher up the horizon now and its soft hues colored his face perfectly.

“I want you to take this promise ring because with this you hold the promise of my heart forever loving yours. All my beauty and imperfections. My tight schedule and long rants. My overly romantic and cringey actions and my eyes that look for you in every crowd.” Taehyung says and a stinging sensation catches up to your eye.

“It will also keep your finger warm until the time I propose to you and marry you, so… will you—“ Taehyung’s slight joking and following question was cut off by your voice cracking. He looked back up to you after eyeing your bare finger and you had tears in your eyes. His eyes immediately fogging as it copies yours.

“Yes. Yes, Tae.” You nod your head to help rid your eyes of tears as Taehyung slips the silver ring through your ring finger and a happy tear slides down his cheek.

“And you, Taehyung. I want you to keep this promise ring until the time I marry you because God knows I’ll save up for a really expensive ring.” You joke as Taehyung laughs boisterously. You reach out for his left hand and take the remaining silver ring.

“I love you so much, baby. I’ve always loved you.” You say as you slid the ring through his fingers and something in your heart locks with security. It was as if life was completed with a simple ring even if it was just a promise ring.

You two had tear stains on your cheeks from happiness and Taehyung immediately stood up, farring you along with him, and brought you in for a deep and passionate kiss on the lips. His lips soft against yours as it held so much love for one another.

When you two parted you simply rested each other’s foreheads against one another as the sun fully rose from slumber. The sun’s light encapsulates the two of you in its beauty and peace. If only someone could take a picture of this moment right now…

Everything changed after these leaks. Both your management team had reached the agreement to put some space between the two of you to avoid any more evidence that could support the strong claim of your relationship. This meant lesser visits to Taehyung’s compromised apartment and lesser events where your group and BTS could have any interactions.

You barely saw Taehyung now and it felt like you had been thrusted back in time to when you were both getting to know each other and only calling and texting each other at night. Back then it felt like the right amount of time to spend with him, but now it felt too little. You missed him and not being able to see each other for months even when you were both in the same city hurts. You felt so close, yet so far.

BTS had also started growing internationally and Taehyung was spending more time abroad. Especially with their Map of The Soul world tour. You had your world tour too, but you two always made the effort to see each other once a month at most. Now, you barely saw each other in three months.

You didn’t understand why they needed you two to be separated after the rumors. There were always rumors in the Kpop world and they had always managed to payout news outlets, so why this ridiculous rule now? It was making you more and more frustrated by each meeting that you asked them to stop.

It all came to a breaking point in late September 2020. It had been ten months and the BTS world tour had ended in September, yet Taehyung and you hadn’t even seen each other since the summer. You were sick and tired of it and your latest comeback failing to reach the charts had stressed you out immensely.

“You know the question I’m about to ask.” You said coldly as your management team didn’t spare you a glance. Your general meeting had ended and though the other members and staff were still in the same room you didn’t stop yourself from speaking your mind.

“And you know what the answer is to it always.” Your lead manager says as you close your eyes to stop any tears from falling down your cheeks.

You were exhausted. You were exhausted from not making it to the charts and feeling as though all your hard work had turned out to be a failure, and you knew that perhaps a small break to be with Taehyung could fix you up nicely. A cuddle and a kiss could boot you right up to start producing and writing songs again. His touch could ease all your sore muscles and his voice humming songs to you could free your ears from the annoying buzz in your ear. A buzz that you think came from the amount of time you spent sampling beats in the studio, and then listening to the same beats during dance practice. Your head was a mess and you could only hear music through a broken filter.

“It’s been ten months…” You say quietly, though the founder of the company abruptly stands up and slaps his hand on the table.

“We can’t risk it!” He sounded angry as his loud voice shushes everyone.

“All of you! We can’t risk it, and you better listen before I put all of you on a dating ban!” He threatens as collective anger boils between all of you girls. You knew that each and every one of you had committed relationships, so there was no way in any universe would you agree to a dating ban.

“What the hell?! You can’t do that so abruptly! What’s really going on? Why is everyone so tense?!” Your leader speaks up as all staff members quiet down and the room is filled with silence. The clock on the wall could be heard ticking and if you really listened in, you would hear your own patience decreasing with each click.

“We’re nearing bankruptcy, okay?! Your album flopped, we’re losing sponsors, and I can’t afford paying out the media for your issue, okay?!” Your boss snaps as he seems to be on the verge of breaking down.

All your group members were at the same amount of shock as you were, though every

“How much time do we have?” Your leader asks as your boss breathes in a heavy sigh.

“6 months at most. We’re reducing staff and we can push for one more studio album. If it doesn’t chart then we’re done. I’m sorry.”

You left the meeting that evening with tears in your eyes and your head feeling agitated. How could they keep this very important news from you and the girls?! This was your job and your future. You had the right to know what was internally happening. Now, all of you had to give your best for the new comeback or else you would be left jobless.

This fury of emotions in you was getting overwhelming and as soon as you arrived in your apartment you called Taehyung for some comfort. Perhaps you could even see each other tonight. A good takeout dinner and a few kisses and cuddles could fix you right up for the new comeback.

“Hey babe, I’m at a shoot right now.” Taehyung answers the phone as you nodded and mentally noted that he would probably be called to hang up on you at any moment.

“Hey…What time do you end?” You asked meekly before you cleared your throat and leaned on your kitchen counter with a glass of water on your other hand.

“Ten or eleven. Why?” Taehyung seemed to be moving on the other side as you sigh. Late dinner would be fine, as long as you were with him, right?

“I was wondering if we could have some dinner at either of our places. I’ve had a bad day and I miss you.” You say truthfully as you closed your eyes and hold the tears that want to push past your eyelids.

“I’m sorry to hear that baby, but I don’t think it would be good for us to see each other right now. Management—“

“Please Tae. I need you.” You interrupted him as a sob coursed through your throat. You felt pathetic for asking for your boyfriend’s attention when you knew how busy the industry is during this time of the year, but you just heard your dreams are in danger and you needed someone you could vent to.

“Baby… I think it would be better if we follow our mana—“

“God! Do you not want to see me?!” This unexpected rage filled you as you began to see red behind the tears that dripped down your cheeks. Your apartment felt too hot. The heat made you agitated. You wanted one thing and the world couldn’t even give you that.

“You know it’s not like that.” Taehyung’s small voice sounded hurt from behind the phone’s speaker, but it enraged you more knowing your hurt was hurting him. You couldn’t do one thing right, couldn’t you? No. How dare he act hurt when you doubt he even fights for you in their meetings. It was always you asking to see him and he would remind you of both your management team’s warnings.

“Really?! Because I’m starting to think that you don’t even want to see me anymore. We haven’t even seen each other since summer! God knows where you’ve been during your tours.” Your last statement was uncalled for. You knew that. Your anger shouldn’t start accusations especially when you know that the man on the other side of the phone was deeply in love with you, but rage makes you do unexplainable things.

You were angry at everything and everyone, and the words that spilled out of your mouth had no further value but the vile that it carries. Taehyung knew that, but he was in the middle of his fifth shoot of the week. He was trying to be as patient as he could be with you, but a nerve had been touched when you questioned his loyalty. How could you question his loyalty when he has done everything in his power to show you how much he was in love with you? He had asked countless times when he could see you, but rejection was always the answer of his managers.

He hated this year just as much as he hated himself for bringing you out to the balcony that night. Not because he regretted giving you his promise ring, but because he wasn’t thinking properly. He should’ve known that neighboring people could see him with you. He should’ve thought about it clearer. He shouldn’t have placed you in that vulnerable situation, and that idea manifested itself to why he was so willing to follow the rules of his managers. He didn’t want to put you in that place again. He didn’t want both your names to go under fire on Twitter again.

“I don’t want to fight with you right now.” Taehyung says dejectedly as the glass on your hand slips to land on the floor. The sound of the glass shattering on the floor and the water spilling on tiles reached Taehyung’s ears as a shock filled him.

“Baby?! What was that sound? Are you okay?” Taehyung sits up straighter from where he was seated in the waiting room with the rest of his band members. All their eyes went to him as he looked panicked whilst on his phone call.

“Yeah, just a glass of water. I’ll talk to you later, V.” Your voice was monotone and the usage of his stage name had caused a frown to rest on Taehyung’s face. It felt strange. It felt as though you were placing a barrier between you and him when you used his stage name. The same barrier an idol had with their fans, but your relationship wasn’t like that. You were the love of his life and the keeper of his promise. Getting called his stage name by you felt cold.

Taehyung turns his phone off after you hang up on him and he leans back on the sofa he sat on. Yoongi sat asleep on his right whilst Jungkook was nearing sleep on his left, though Jimin sat across the room on another sofa with his eyebrow furrowed as if asking the younger for what that was about. However, Jimin was beaten to ask Taehyung about his call as Namjoon pipes in from sitting beside Jimin.

“What was that about?” Namjoon asks as Taehyung sighs. He didn’t want to answer, but now five pairs of eyes were on him and the ears of their makeup artists were pressuring him to answer with something.

“You already know.” Taehyung says in a low voice, though his hyungs nod in understanding.

“I don’t get why you don’t just go see her. You know, I break Sejin’s rules all the time.” Jimin says as he earns a warning shove from Namjoon and a laugh from Hoseok. They all eventually break Sejin’s rules and Taehyung himself even broke his rules earlier into courting you, but he shouldn’t risk it now. Not when your names were out there and any signs that you were dating would be taken as the truth.

“We’ll help you sneak out later, Taehyung ah.” Jin offers as he flashes the younger a playful grin and a wink from his seat in front of the mirror surrounded by makeup artists.

“Sejin will pay you out of everything.”

“You have to be careful though. Our company could buy you out, but hers might not have the funds for it.” Hoseok pipes in as his sudden negative input has everyone turning to him with questioning looks.

“Don’t you guys look at their stocks? It’s been getting lower since last year. It might be the reason why you weren’t protected from the balcony incident.” Hoseok says as he flashes the boys his screen that is filled with stocks.

“No, the balcony incident was because the people who caught us immediately posted it without the help of media outlets. Our management can only protect us to an extent.” Taehyung now speaks as he shakes his head and massages his forehead. They all knew that. If fans capture them then it would pose a larger threat because they were willing to release any media without sending an email and deal to companies.

But what Taehyung did take note from what his hyung said was how your company’s stocks were lowering. You never told him that problem so he thinks it isn’t a major problem, though if his hyung knew about it then the changes must be drastic.

And they were drastic. After you hang up on Taehyung, you have turned your tears into a driving power to get working on some lyrics in your notebook. You didn’t even realize the amount of time that had passed as you spent it hunched over the coffee table writing away. The glass shards still littered the tiles of the kitchen and your mascara still darkened your eyes.

It was already one in the morning and Taehyung carefully got into your apartment building as both his hands held your favorite takeout paper bags with drinks. The boys had in fact helped him sneak out of the dorm that night, and it took him a few minutes and taxi rides to finally get everything he wanted to buy for the night.

He was going to apologize tonight. He was going to tell you the truth of everything on his mind and he would listen to everything you had to say. He wanted to make things right and it starts with giving you a kiss as soon as he enters the door.

The knock from your apartment’s door was the first sound you’d heard in the past few hours. It brought you to consciousness from your endless writing, and when you looked down to see your work everything was only an incomprehensible mess. Dried tear stains littered the pages and the callus on your finger grew thicker from friction.

You pushed yourself up from your spot on the carpet and walked carefully towards your front door. Another soft knock followed after some silence and you wanted to tell the person on the other side that you were coming, though your throat was raw from lack of usage.

“Hey baby.” Taehyung’s figure greets you as you open the door. His freshly trimmed dark hair covered his forehead as his mask was discarded under his chin. His figure was engulfed in a black jacket with its hood unused. A soft smile played on his lips, though it fell as soon as he saw your figure. The smile instead was replaced with a look of worry as you can only imagine what state you looked like.

“I— I’m so sorry I didn’t come any sooner…” Taehyung immediately sets down the paper bags of food by the doorway before approaching you to engulf in a big warm hug. The hug that you had wished for earlier, and finally your emotions were put to ease.

The little droplets of rain left on his jacket and his steady heartbeat got rid of every pain and anger you had in your body and you finally let your eyes close as you hugged him back. His breath on top of your head slowly brings you back to the love and warmth you always knew would come to you.

“Tae, my— my company…”

You both had let everything out through dinner. In the early hours of the day, you both cried and laughed. You catched up with the happenings of each other's lives and you forgave each other.

“You know what would be great right now?” You spoke as Taehyung looked up to you from his place on your lap. His head rested on the valley of your thighs as his Hwarang drama played on the TV in your living room. His eyes bright and a soft smile permanently plastered to his lips.

“What?”

“A cone of ice cream.” You say as you watch his eyes brighten at the idea. So what if he just got his teeth cleaned and they were sensitive to cold food? If you wanted ice cream then he wants it too.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s get some ice cream!” He says as he sits up and turns off the TV.

“Tae, we can’t go out.” You remind him though the brow he raises and smug look on his face just makes a smile break your lips.

“I don’t care. No payouts, no worries. If they know then they’ll know. I’ll get my girl her ice cream!”

You giggle as Taehyung goes into your bedroom and comes out with a large black puffer jacket, a pair of warm socks, and a scarf. He ordered you to stand up as he wrapped the warm jacket over your figure and wrapped your neck up with a scarf. He pulls out a wet wipe to gently wipe your face with any dried tears or mascara before he pulls you towards the front door.

He doesn’t even let you crouch down to tie your own shoes or put your own socks on because he does it for you before he does his own. And soon you were already walking out your apartment building with his hand playing with yours.

You ended up grabbing a cone of your favorite ice cream from an ice cream place that was open 24/7. It was roughly a fifteen minute walk from your place and when he sensed your pace slowing, he took a detour and took you to a riverside road that had benches looking out onto the river.

Light bulbs tied into strings hung from trees and the gentle flow of the river made the place serene. You two sat on a bench and ate your ice cream by the river as silence engulfed you two. A comforting peace hugging you tightly as time seemed nonexistent when you were with him. You leaned your head on his shoulder and basked in the moment. A buzz of restlessness ringing in your ear, though it didn’t matter whenever he was near.

If someone took a picture of you now then you wouldn’t care anymore. As long as you were with him then you would be fine.

Everyone was convinced that the two of you were dating and ever since then you were a bit more shameless to post pictures on your instagram with a few too many similarities to deny that you two weren’t in the same place at the same time.

With the news of your unconfirmed relationship reaching new lengths with more leaked content, you two became somewhat old news. Everyone knew there was something undeniable between you two, though nothing had been confirmed. Your two companies stayed out of it after their first statement that only clarified that both of you weren’t engaged, though it also said that your companies had no rights in your personal engagements.

A month after, your latest comeback had been released and it was a massive pop. It had landed the charts and stayed on the Top 5 even with rising competition and BTS’s unstoppable Dynamite single. And Maybe, just maybe, it could save your company’s decline.

The end of November was the season of awardings and your latest comeback just manages to squeeze into the eligibility period of the criteria. Which meant your hit comeback had actually landed you multiple nominations, and perhaps your first ever Daesang? If that was possible against BTS’s unstoppable year.

It felt as though your struggles through the year were getting set to rest, and whatever happens now was up to the world’s hands.

Arriving in the 2020 Mnet Asian Music Awards felt like a reward. You could finally relax and enjoy the event of your year’s work. In these events you would always remember how it changed your life by letting you and Taehyung meet gazes. How it made you meet your closest friends and interact with fans from different fandoms. It was a celebration whether you left as a winner or not.

Taehyung took his first step out to walk the red carpet as cameras flash all around him. The crowd of fans behind the media outlets raised their phone cameras as cheers roared. His bandmates smiled and waved as they took a spot right in front of the banner backdrop.

They were missing Yoongi that night. The rapper was absent to recover from his long due shoulder surgery that he got in an accident years ago. This small change in their usual order had all the staff and management team on edge. They already had to relearn their choreography and positions for the performance tonight, and the staff were busy all week to find ways on how they would spend Yoongi’s rap parts of the song without him, so it was an understatement to say that everyone was a little tired and on edge for tonight.

The six remaining members all arranged themselves into their familiar order, with Taehyung leading the line and leaving a space for Yoongi before Jin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Jimin, and Hoseok followed in order.

They all stopped at the first spot where semi-popular outlets took pictures of them and their different colored suits. They all had a mix of muted navy, white, and some accents of maroon, a color scheme that stood out from the classic black suit. Taehyung wore navy trousers and a matching suit jacket whilst his undershirt was a satin white. His suit jacket was buttoned up to his chest and had a maroon colored handkerchief in its pocket.

After a few seconds, a director had signed for Taehyung to continue walking along the carpet as the boy group Seventeen, that was ahead of them in the queue, moved towards the part of the carpet where the event hosts would interview them.

Taehyung glanced behind him to make sure his bandmates were following him as he moved further up the queue. They stopped once again with their line still intact and they posed for the more known media outlets.

At the same time, their junior’s Tomorrow X Together arrived and followed them in the queue by taking their previous spot. Their hoobaes dressed in fitting black suits as they arranged themselves in a line and posed for the cameras. The crowd also cheered for them, before they reverted their attention to the short interview held on the members of Seventeen.

Another cue of a director made Taehyung turn to watch the Seventeen walk inside the building. He waited patiently for all members to enter before he followed to occupy the spot they had left. The host, Song Joong Ki, greeted the members as Taehyung was handed two microphones that he passed to his bandmates. He would let his hyung’s take care of the interview answers, though he still smiled to the cameras that flashed and broadcasted the carpet.

“Welcome! Bangtan Sonyeondan!” Song Joong Ki announces as classic questions fall from his lips, though he has lost all of Taehyung’s attention when he saw you enter to lead your group on the queue of the carpet.

Your body clad in a white angelic like satin material dress. It had thick bows as spaghetti straps on your shoulders, though it kept the skin of your collarbone and shoulders exposed. It hugged your torso tightly almost like a corset before it loosened below your waists and made you seem like a doll. Hemline details on your skirt had separated the silky fabric of the bodice and majority of the skirt to the more flowy and scrunched material that gave your dress an airy aura. Your white heels polished to shine as bright as the cameras, and your angel-like makeup made Taehyung feel like he was actually seeing an angel.

He didn’t care if people saw how his mouth stood agape and how his gaze stayed on you for a moment too long. It was the only appropriate reaction to your outfit. Your bandmates also had varying white dresses on, yet you seemed like the star of the show. A true beauty that he was blessed to witness in his lifetime.

“Taehyung ah, stop staring at your girlfriend and move.” Jin had whispered to Taehyung. The space for Yoongi in between them had disappeared as Taehyung snapped his gaze back to his hyung. He could see you posing for pictures on his peripheral vision, though the slight nudge of Jin pushing him along to enter the venue was enough for him to stop watching you.

He could even see Jimin flashing him a smirk as it was quite obvious who had stolen all his attention. Taehyung was shameless as he only smiled and calmly walked towards the small steps leading to the venue.

He wondered how he would celebrate tonight. The Mnet Asian Music Awards always have been an indicator to him that it had been another year since he met the most beautiful angel on Earth. He would always replay the moment he caught your eyes when he received an award, and sometimes, if he was lucky, your eyes would meet and he falls for you deeper than he had the first time you met. Gosh, he hoped one of the cameras had gotten a good picture of you because he can’t wait to make it his homesc—

Bang.

And screaming was all he heard as his head snapped to find out what the commotion was about. Everyone’s handheld cameras had turned to the start of the queue, and the cameras that were on fixed stands to face the carpet in front were left unattended by the camera directors. All their eyes widening at a sight that Taehyung couldn’t see.

Security guards that stood near the venue entrance had run past Taehyung to get to the commotion, though Taehyung couldn’t see through a combination of his hyung’s heads and the bodies of managers and staff that filled the red carpet.

Taehyung was more curious than worried about the commotion. All he knew was that the commotion had taken place at the start of the queue where he stood just a few moments ago. Taehyung watched as all his members tried to raise their necks to see past the crowd.

Namjoon had tapped a staff member to ask what happened, and Taehyung would have intently eavesdropped the conversation if not for the face Jimin had flashed Taehyung as he turned with a worried look. It was a look that knew something.

How did Jimin see through the crowd? They didn’t know.

“What is it?” Taehyung asked as Jimin stopped stretching his neck and stared at him with wide eyes whilst licking his lips as if he was finding the right words to describe the situation he saw.

But Taehyung didn’t need to hear it from him as Jin soon found a gap to see what happened, and the loud ‘woah’ that involuntarily left his throat was enough for all members present to look at him.

However, just like Jimin did after seeing the commotion, their eldest member flashed Taehyung worried eyes before grabbing Taehyung’s wrist as if he could bolt at any moment. These glances and actions were starting to worry Taehyung now. He would understand if the members who saw something happened wouldn’t want the other members to know, but why did it look as if they didn’t want him specifically to know or react.

“What?” Taehyung’s Daegu accent came out as he was getting worried at what was happening.

Then a few gasps came from the crowd that watched and Taehyung finally found a gap to see someone on top of another person at the start of the queue. Right where your group was standing mere seconds ago.

Taehyung tugged at Jin’s grip as he finally saw someone pull the erratically moving person off the floor and the person she had pinned to the floor.

Who was getting attacked? Taehyung didn’t know yet, but something in his stomach told him that his hyungs knew.

The crazy woman was pulled off the floor by a security guard. Taehyung's gaze went from the woman fighting the guard to one of the barriers that separated the general crowd of fans from the photographers, carpet, and artists. The barrier was on the floor as other fans didn’t dare cross it, though he had figured that the loud bang was from the barrier falling to the floor.

Taehyung then let his gaze wander to whoever the woman had pinned to the floor and lo and behold… it was you.

Seeing your messy hair and disoriented figure had blood surging through Taehyung’s body. A different type of adrenaline flowed through him unlike the ones he experiences at concerts. No, this one made him want to fight and flight at the same time.

Taehyung easily pulled away from Jin’s grip as he walked past Jimin before he could block his way. The call of his name from Hoseok and Jungkook fell on deaf ears as he continued his fast strides towards you. His eyes fixed on your figure before it was lost behind a crowd of people.

Taehyung pushed past TXT with little to no problems. He simply murmured an apology and an ‘excuse me’ as he passed through.

A ring of people had circled where you were supposed to be as Taehyung pushed past people in his goal to reach you. It felt as though his body was walking through quicksand at how he had to forcibly get his body past the crowd.

He can feel his suit get wrinkled and his shoes get stepped on. His hair must be ruffled by now and perhaps one of his prop rings had already slipped past a finger, but it didn’t matter. As long as the silver band he had as your promise was fine and he gets to you in the least amount of time then anything else could be replaceable.

With one more push he finally got to the middle of the crowd. The air felt less dense, though Taehyung couldn’t get a proper breath in until he could see that you were okay.

It didn’t take long for your eyes to meet each other though. Your wide blown out eyes reach peace as your eyes meet his, and he would be lying if your eyes didn’t give him just a small bit of ease running through his body.

He immediately took a step towards you as a few gasps were heard followed by a louder bang rang and silenced his surroundings. A disorienting buzz ran through his ears as he turned towards the woman to see her get tackled to the floor by multiple security guards and a gun slipping past her grip.

The bang wasn’t another barrier falling…

She shot a bullet

And he didn’t know where it landed.

Taehyung reached for you to engulf with his body and shield you from the direction the woman was. You immediately collapsed into his grip as you brought your hands to cover your face and bury yourself in Taehyung’s suit.

“Baby, are you okay? Are you hurt? D—did you…” Taehyung couldn’t finish what he wanted to ask you as he opted to skim your body for any obvious injuries.

He wasn't going to admit it but he was looking for a bullet wound under the fabric of your dress, though all he saw was the ruffled satin material as you cried onto his chest. His grip on you tightened as he turned his head back to see proper police men restrain the woman in handcuffs.

“You’re okay now. You’re fine. You’re safe, baby. She’s gone.” Taehyung repeats his words over your hair. A kiss landing on your messy hair. His whispers of comfort placed ease into both your bodies, though you could still hear his heart pumping heavily.

“Tae…” You were breathless as tears uncontrollably dripped down your cheeks. You were just thankful that Taehyung was blocking you from the media. Now that the woman was gone, the media was bound to get an aftermath photo of you so you were just glad they couldn’t see you in the middle of a breakdown.

“Yes baby? Are you hurt? Do you need an ambulance?” Taehyung asked as he rubbed a hand on the top of your hair to soothe down some loose strands, though the action was more to comfort you than fix up your appearance. He was well aware of the cameras and whispers around you.

“Are— are you hurt? The g-gun…” Your voice shakes as you wipe your tears and look up at him.

The sounds of cameras flashing, managers and staff speaking loudly, and police, was the loud buzzing of your ear. It started right as you were tackled to the ground with a twist of your ankle and your head hitting the not so soft red carpet. It still heavily buzzes in your ear over any other noise, excluding Taehyung’s calming voice which you can hear just as clear as the vibrations of your heart pumping.

“No. No, I’m not hurt, baby. Please answer me now. Are you okay?” Taehyung repeats himself whilst placing emphasis on the word ‘you’. He brings a gentle hand to wipe tears sliding down your cheek as you take in the condition of your body.

“My— my ankle… I think I twisted it when I fell, but I think I’m fine.” You say as the adrenaline wears off and an uncomfortable sting comes to your left ankle. You still stood on your heels effortlessly, though a growing tingle had started to spread from where the heel’s strap held onto your ankle.

“Okay. Thank you for answering.” Taehyung kisses your lips swiftly before he raises a hand to call for attention, and looks towards the direction of the venue. Paramedics and staff that were on standby were already walking down the carpet as your eyes even catch Jimin’s worried eyes skimming over both you and Taehyung. The medics were by your side in no time as the crowd around you disperse.

“She said that she might’ve twisted her ankle.” Taehyung says to the paramedics who nodded, though they didn’t signal him to let go just yet.

“Let’s go to the back to check for further injuries. The media is out of control.” A manager suggested to the paramedics who agreed.

“Can you walk?” Taehyung asks as you merely nodded before you were led to a private space behind the wall of the red carpet. Taehyung continued to support you as you took heavy steps in your heels.

The small space behind the backdrop wasn’t too spacious though it was enough to shield you as the paramedics opened a kit and let you sit down on a small plastic stool. Taehyung stood right beside you. Your fingers intertwine as your fingers meet the cold material of his promise ring, and that’s when it hits you.

“Sh-shit.” Your once dried cheeks had now turned wet again as you looked down to your hand and found all your fingers were bare from any jewelry.

“Shh… You’re fine, baby. You’re getting treated.” Taehyung rubs your head to help soothe you though your sobs start to grow as the paramedics ask you what’s wrong, though you only shook your head to dismiss them.

“Tae… I lost the— the ring. It— It must have fell when I—“

“It’s fine, baby. I can buy you a new one.” Taehyung reassures you, though you were inconsolable.

“Please, say something if this hurts Miss.” The medic speaks as she caresses the skin of your ankle. A yelp leaving your lips as the medics nodded and continued to assess your shin.

From the way your chest heaved with each sob and the way tears fell from your eyes, the medics couldn’t assess you properly though they made the best of the situation and made the decision to take you to the hospital.

“Taehyung, you need to get into the venue. The event is going to be delayed, but groups need to be inside the venue for security checks and safety.” His manager speaks as his head pops from the other side of the backdrop. A wheelchair strolling behind him as the medics explain to you that they were taking you to the hospital.

“What? I can’t leave her right now. Did you see what happened?!” Taehyung didn’t mean to raise his voice, though he couldn’t leave you right now. Perhaps you were physically okay, but that must have been mentally shocking and he wants to be there just to comfort you even if it doesn’t make a big difference.

“Yes, I did see. Everyone saw. And we don't know if there’s another sasaeng out there, so we need you to get in the venue now.” The manager said sternly, though Taehyung continued to ignore the orders.

He instead opted to help guide you to sit comfortably on the wheelchair. His finger grazing over red scratch marks on the skin of your forearm. He hadn’t seen those earlier, though he doubts the paramedics had missed it.

When they exited from behind the backdrop they were met with security guards escorting them to the road where the ambulance was parked. Taehyung walked alongside the wheelchair as the paramedic wheeled you to the ambulance. His manager followed a few paces behind.

You writhed with shame as you thought about all the news that could be written on this night alone and you hadn’t even entered the venue yet. You weren’t sure you could.

Taehyung was held back by his manager before he could enter the ambulance with you. His gaze in question and slight irritation as he was met by the face of their manager once more, though this time his members were walking out the venue in search of him.

“Kim Taehyung don’t go. For her sake. You can see her after, but right now we need you inside for the media's sake.” Their manager says more desperate now as he turns to meet your eyes that were inside the ambulance.

He was all too aware of the eyes watching both of you and he could tell that you were too. You gave him a slight nod as a sign that you’d be fine as he nodded more to himself and took a step back to be with his manager. For your sake, he wasn’t going to be with you right now. Not when the media would be having a frenzy already. For you, your company, and your reputation.

“Come on, get inside.” The manager nudged Taehyung to follow behind him as he kept his gaze down on the floor when a few cameras took pictures of him walking to the entrance.

A shiny piece of jewelry caught his attention as he bent down and found the promise ring he had given you last year. A promise ring that had caused you more tears than he wanted you to have.

“Come on, V.” Jimin says as he reaches out for Taehyung to accompany him in walking to the venue behind the rest of the members that flashed him pitiful looks.

“You did the right thing. She needed you, and you’ll see each other after this.” Jimin reassured, as Taehyung’s eyes began to sting from behind, though he tried to stop the emotions from showing in his eyes.

“They said it was a sasaeng?” Taehyung asked as the security guards opened the door for them and they entered the dark and cold doors of the big venue that the 21st Mnet Asian Music Awards would take place in.

“Apparently. I tried my best to eavesdrop and they said that the motive might’ve been because of your relationship. She was ARMY.” Jimin summarized everything he had heard as they both stopped in a dim hallway to wait for staff to open a door that led to the artist area.

“I still don’t get how she managed to walk past security, staff, and camera directors. How did she even have a gun?!” Taehyung was exasperated as the two ‘95 liners leaned against the padded walls. Taehyung leaned his head on Jimin’s shoulder as Jungkook came up to squeeze his shoulder.

“Is she okay? We heard guns were involved.” Jungkook asked as it was obvious that the rest of his bandmates were listening from behind the maknae.

“Yeah. She’s shaken up. Maybe even have a twisted ankle and a few scratches.” Taehyung says as his eyes zone out on the pattern of the carpet and his fingers play on the ring he held on his finger.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon shows himself from behind Jungkook as Taehyung simply nods.

The night had gone by like a blur. It was obvious to everyone watching that he was not as present as he should have been, though nobody blames him. The views of the event had skyrocketed after news broke out that an artist was attacked and yet the event continued on. Hashtags about the event and incident even went viral prior to the awards finishing because clips of Taehyung running towards you and escorting you to the ambulance had gone viral. It practically happened in front of everybody so it was bound to get posted, and technically no blood or gore had been shown so the content wasn’t blocked as quickly as both your companies and the event organizers wanted them to be.

Taehyung walks through the hospital hallways with paper bags of your favorite takeout food, your favorite drink, some spare clothes of his that you could change to in case your personal assistant didn’t bring good comfy clothes, and a small cake of your favorite flavor. He had made do with how late it was and how your favorite bakery was already closed.

It felt like deja vu once again. However, this time he wasn’t riding the elevator to your apartment but rather riding it to your hospital room.

Your absence from the event was so painstakingly obvious for him and everyone. He was jittery all night, and your group seemed so small when they occupied the stage for their performance. It was obvious that they had done last minute blocking, and the bactrack had been used for your solo parts. They seemed so small when they walked down the artist area and got to the stage to receive the Best Female Group award and the Best Female Group Dance Performance award. Your group wasn’t small in the sense that they had little members, though it felt like something was missing. Your big bubbly smile and your funny yet carefully worded speech was missing, and Taehyung could speak for everyone that your presence was greatly missed.

He had received a text from you as soon as the event ended and when he got his phone back. Your text contained your congratulations for him and his wins and performances. Jimin even showed Taehyung a message you sent that congratulated Jimin and the rest of BTS. It was certainly a good year for them, and you had grown closer towards your boyfriend’s close friend despite only interacting a few times.

You told him that he should probably visit later into the evening since your group would be visiting you after the event, though Taehyung didn’t listen and still went as fast as he could when ordering food.

He arrived at your hospital room at almost two in the morning and from what he could hear, your bandmates were still in your hospital room talking to you.

He knocked on the door and heard the girls quiet down as one of the members opened the door to see Taehyung standing in the middle of the hallway with his PA behind him holding the bag of clothes and box of cake.

“Hey, sorry to intrude on your celebrations but can I come see my girlfriend?” Taehyung says as a smile couldn’t help but creep up his face as his heart swells with pride with how he openly says that you were his girlfriend.

“Yah Y/Nah, your boyfriend is here.” The member smiled brightly as she opened the door wider to show you laying in the hospital bed with wide eyes from Taehyung’s early arrival. Your other bandmates had visibly smiled brighter when Taehyung entered the room.

“Good evening.” Taehyung greets as he places all of the paper bags on a nearby table and bows deeply to your bandmates.

“Congratulations on your wins and performance!”

All of your bandmates greet the same words as they bow just as deep to their sunbaenim.

“You should have told us Kim Taehyung sunbaenim was coming. We should’ve ordered more food for him—“ You leader speaks as you stay silent yet a small smiles lingers on your lips when Taehyung doesn’t let his eyes leave you.

“It’s okay. I brought some takeout to eat, and a cake to celebrate your wins.” Taehyung opens the small cake he had brought as his PA takes his leave and walks out the door.

“Oh V sunbaenim, thank you! We already had some cake, but I’m sure Y/N would love that. She barely ate anything tonight.” One of your members discloses as you send her a warning gaze as her face contorts into a look of apology.

Taehyung’s brown doe eyes met yours once more and this time it held the same worry it had earlier in the evening. You hated that. You hated seeing him worried over you, though at the same time it made you feel so cared for.

“We should probably get going. We need some rest and we can celebrate properly when you’re feeling better Y/N.” Your group’s leader says as they all excused themselves after they bid you well and congratulated Taehyung once more.

You were left in the silence of your hospital room with Taehyung at last. It felt like a decade just to get some time alone ever since the incident, and it felt like a reward to finally be alone together after the stressful night.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Taehyung asks as he comes towards the side of the bed to give you a kiss on your cheek.

“Not in the mood for it.” You say honestly because you really didn’t feel hungry, though Taehyung’s brow raised to doubt your answer.

“Come on, don’t let me eat all of this alone.” He says as your favorite food reaches your nose. The aroma turns the wheel of your appetite as Taehyung moves the table closer to the side of your bed.

“Seriously, Tae…”

“Please baby? Let me food you a few spoonfuls at least? It would help me feel better.” Taehyung asks as you nod willingly.

He opens up a container and grabs a wooden spoon to fill with the right amount of everything before guiding the spoon to your open mouth. The warmth of the food immediately landing in your stomach as a satisfied hum left you. Taehyung smiled at that and took his own bite with a smile.

“How’s your ankle?” He asks.

“It’s twisted, but it should heal well. I’ll be walking around with a brace, but it's not like we have a comeback coming.” You say as you move your leg from under the white blanket and show him the brace that keeps your ankle straight.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be here though. They said that I’m showing symptoms of an acute concussion, so it would be better to keep me under observation. That’s why I’m not really eating food right now. I don’t want to throw it up in case this does happen to be a concussion. ” You shrug as you eye the movie that showed on the TV.

Taehyung took your left hand in his and raised it to meet his lips. His breath grazing over your ring finger as you feel him slide a familiar metal back to its place.

“What— Woah! You found it!” You smile as you check the ring to truly see if it was the same ring he had given you a year ago. The same small dent that you had accidentally struck against the wall had grazed the design and you knew for a fact that it was the same ring you had worn as a promise.

“It’s kinda hard to miss. No wonder everyone saw it when we wore it.” Taehyung chuckles as he kisses your hand again before you pull him closer to you to kiss on the lips.

His usually soft lips still had some remnants of lipstick from the makeup of their performance. However, the surface wasn’t the soft flesh you’ve come to be familiar with. It was bitten and cracked in some places. Some skin was freshly peeled and others were dry and waiting for the time to be peeled. It was a sign that he had bitten them off prematurely as a coping mechanism from anxiety.

“I’m sorry, baby. I— I heard the fan was a sasaeng and I didn’t even try that hard to join you in the ambulance, but I— I didn’t want the media following and— and our companies… It’s not an excuse—“

“Tae, it’s not your fault.” You state sternly with your expression straight. You didn’t know where this reaction was coming from, but you had to shut down all those thoughts.

“She was a sasaeng— an ARMY…” Taehyung was teary eyed as he sat on the side of the bed with his hands wrapped around your waist as your arms rested on his shoulders.

“You can’t control them and you can’t control what our agencies tell us to do. Just like how they told us to keep some distance when we told them about our relationship. We can break what they say sometimes, but eventually we know we have to follow them. Like how we still kept on seeing each other and how you still had to join the event.” You explained as he nodded.

He was tongue tied or perhaps he didn’t have anything more to say. He just wanted to hold you and tell himself he did everything he could to prevent what happened and that at the end of the day you are fine with injuries that could be fixed. He wanted to kiss you and feel your skin against his. He wanted to breathe in your scent and feel your chest move with every inhale and exhale.

So he did just that. He laid beside you and brought your body down with him to embrace. Your skin against his as you both settle in a comfortable position.

“What if we weren’t idols?”

“Don’t say that Tae. We met because we were idols. We met because we wanted to study being idols and you saw me because you are a damn good idol.” You say as Taehyung laughs and kisses your cheeks.

“I know, but like what if we went away for a while. Just the two of us and some place we don’t know.” Taehyung proposes as you tilt your head to think over the idea as you signal him to continue his brewing thought.

“Just for a few days or a week. We deserve it after a long year. Besides, it’s my birthday soon.” Taehyung smiles brighter when he mentions his birthday as if you hadn’t been saving up for his birthday gift already.

“That does sound nice…”

“So it’s settled! New Year’s and my birthday in some place we don’t know! I’ll start planning it tomorrow.” Taehyung smiles as you laugh with him, but really he was planning on replacing your dented ring with a new one.

“Also I brought some clothes. I was wondering if I could sleep here tonight.” Taehyung asks as you smile and land a kiss on his lips.

“I was waiting for you to say that. My parents are visiting early in the morning though, so you better be up by then.” You both chuckle as he kisses you once more.

“Are you comfy in your clothes? I have your favorite sweater in the bag, and a coat in case you ever feel like having ice cream again.”

You chuckle as you slightly nudge his shoulder. This man truly was something else.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY V!

And

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!

#bts #bangtan #bts fanfic #kim taehyung #bts x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts oneshot #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung birthday!!!! #birthday boy!!!! #kpop #bts v #bts v oneshot

[lexsssu]

Soft (Vergil)

TAGS: Vergil/Dragoness!reader, smut, breeding, pregnancy, heats/ruts, oneshot Ao3 ver.

“Moooooommm, my hair’s already okay as it is. You don’t have to keep grooming it!”

“Hush, darling. Mother knows best and if I say that your hair needs to be groomed then it means that it needs to be groomed. Now, stay still and let Mama fix you up~”

Nero grumbled and pouted, but simply allowed himself to become limp in your grasp as you combed his snowy locks for him, a bright red blush lighting up his cheeks that were yet another feature he’d inherited from his father. To be honest, Nero took mostly after Vergil in terms of looks, but he was definitely more expressive than your mate.

“...’m not a lil kid anymore…”

“Regardless of how old you are, you will always be a child in my eyes, Nero. I bore you into this world with my body and nothing can ever change the bond between a mother and her child” You smile and nuzzle the top of the young man’s head, inhaling his scent while bathing him in your own, draconic instincts, particularly your maternal ones, overflowing as you carried another babe within your belly. 

“...Just let your mother be, Nero. Once your new sibling is born she won’t be babying you anymore,” said Vergil eloquently as he sat on his favorite armchair, reading through a well-worn poetry book and looking like painting straight out of a Victorian-era portrait.

“Your father is just teasing you. You’ll always be Mama’s darling boy~” You giggle and place a kiss on your son’s forehead, watching gleefully as his cheeks turn an even deeper red from your affections.

Though seemingly minding his own business, Vergil always had his eye on you both even as he read the ever so familiar words upon the inked pages. There is a softness in the blue of his eyes that is hidden from the world outside of your cozy little home. 

A softness that is reserved only for you, his mate, and all your offspring...and maybe Dante when the devil hunter wasn’t being an absolute insufferable moron.

It’s amazing how meeting you had allowed him to see the world in a different light. To rediscover parts of himself that he’d long thought to have died off on the night his entire life had changed forever and molded him into a man fraught with only the ambition for power.

He could still remember that moment so clearly, as if it happened just yesterday...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you need some help? You looked like you had quite the fall from so high up…”

The eldest son of Sparda blinked, a rare look of incredulity on his normally impassive face as he stared at the small hand being held out to him and the young woman who owned it. 

Mundus’ grotesque form lay upon the blood red ground, a mass of flesh with hundreds of hands sticking out of him that would have struck fear in the hearts of most living and undead creatures. However, the Prince of Darkness was obviously deceased as he lay immobile, gaping wounds and terrible gashes littering his foul body as if his opponent had just tore through him without mercy.

“...Do you know that thing? It kept yapping ever since I dropped in here kinda like how you did and well...I just wasn’t really in the mood to deal with the monologues so I took him out of his misery,” you chuckle at the young man’s astonished expression, quite liking how expressive his reactions were despite having only just met him.

“So ummm...do you wanna go to the throne room with me? That thing’s lackeys said that I should sit on the throne to make my rule as their new boss ‘official’ and well, I dunno about you but any place is better than kneeling on the wet ground”

Still flustered with the turn of events, Vergil could only wordlessly nod and before he could get up on his own, you grasp his free hand and pull him up with surprising strength.

“Great! Since you’re new here too, we both can get a tour of the place!”

The katana-wielder would have normally pulled his hand back by now in disgust and or disdain, but strangely enough he didn’t mind how your utterly warm and soft hand clutched his own. Your hand is so small that he could easily cover it if he took the initiative to do so, but he found himself both reluctant to move and content with...whatever this was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Darling, please...fuck me open. Mate me. Breed me…!” You whine and whimper as you sway your hips tantalizingly, looking back at Vergil who’d activated his Sin Devil Trigger form with complete want and adoration. Everything about his current form aroused your most primal side, wanting nothing more than to have him fuck you until were bow-legged and undeniably swollen with his potent seed.

Though he couldn’t speak up in this form, the low grunts and the way his scaled hands took handfuls of your backside as he pressed his equally demonic-looking cock into your weeping slit had you keening and sighing as he sunk its entire length in one thrust. 

As Vergil had his way with your equally enthusiastic self, you couldn’t help but smile stupidly as thoughts of the future filled your mind. Specifically, the pitter-patter of little feet that would undeniably become an absolute reality soon enough, especially as you feel the base of your mate’s cock inflating in order to lock himself inside your willing cunt.

You always did like the name Nero...

#lexsssu writes #devil may cry #devil may cry x reader #vergil x reader #devil may cry vergil x reader #dmc vergil x reader #dmc vergil #vergil x you #vergil x y/n #dmc x reader #crossposted on ao3

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Fluffcember Day 4 | The softest pillow

Pairing | Boyfriend!Sebastian Stan x Girlfriend!Fem!Reader

Word count | 4.1K

Summary | You've been dating Sebastian for over five months, and he has invited you to spend the night at his house for the first time. He has planned a comfortable and romantic night for you both, and you've never had more fun staying at home than you did with him.

Warning(s) | Established relationship (boyfriend/girlfriend), use of pet name (Sweetheart), small age gap (~ 7-8 years).

Smut | Oral ~ M receiving, throat fucking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie, lots of praise, hair pulling, dirty talk, Daddy kink, cockwarming.

Rating Explicit (E)

Request | @buckys-wintersoldier Hey, my lovely big me💞 Listen to me, I'm sure you will love that or I hope you will. You can decide the character you want to use for this one, but could you write a fluffy oneshot that includes these sentences: 1. "No, you can't get up! You're my prisoner for today." (I'm so in love with this one, I found this and now I'm in love) 2. "I remember practising how to ask you out in a mirror." I know they don't fit that well, but I'm pretty sure you will make a wonderful oneshot out of it. Hehe. Thank you in advance, and I love you, big me. 💞

A/n | This one-shot it written for day 4 of my Fluffcember 2023 Challenge. Thank you so much for this sweet request, and I am glad I found the perfect prompt for your challenge! 😉 I want to give a big thank you to @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading this as always 🎄

Events Masterlist | ''You're my new pillow'' | @buckys-wintersoldier Masterlist | Holding hands | @anyfandomkinkbingo

Banners by @vase-of-lilies | Divider by @firefly-graphics | GIF credit to the owner

Main Masterlist | Sebastian Stan Masterlist

Dating Sebastian has been a true rollercoaster of emotions for you, but only in the best way possible. From you meeting him during an interview a little over a year ago to him asking you to be his girlfriend, it was like a fairytale.

Today is the day you're about to interview the cast of a new movie called The Martian - and today, of all days, will be the moment that you're going to be interviewing Sebastian Stan, your celebrity crush for the last few years.

It will be an absolute dream come true, and you've been endlessly preparing so you can conduct the interview of your life. And not just to impress Sebastian.

The black dress you've wanted to wear is hanging in your closet, ready to be put on, but you pick out some black lingerie before you can do that. It's not like anyone will see it, but the confidence boost it gives you is indescribable.

When you have the lacey fabric on, you admire yourself in the mirror for a few minutes before getting dressed and doing your hair and makeup.

Your hair is in loose curls and up in a ponytail, with a few loose pieces framing your face, and your eye makeup is simple, but the dark lipstick you put on gives your look an exciting edge.

Now, all that's left is to read over your interview questions a few more times and make a few last adjustments before it's officially time to go to your interview.

It's good that you've gotten into the habit of arriving early everywhere you go, and you've arrived about 20 minutes early so you take the time to freshen up in the bathroom.

You don't anticipate anyone walking by when you walk out, and you accidentally bump into a broad chest. You let out a squeal when a pair of strong arms envelop you.

"Woah! Careful there, Sweetheart," the man says with a chuckle, and your eyes snap up to see who the voice belongs to. It is just your luck that you bump into none other than Sebastian, and you're glad he caught you before you could fall.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to run into you!" You tell him as he lets you go, but he gives you a reassuring smile.

"It's okay, Sweetheart. It's not every day that someone as beautiful as you bumps into me," he tells you with a dashing smile, making the butterflies you feel in your stomach wild.

When it's time for the interview, Sebastian recognizes you and lets his gaze wander over your body and long, exposed legs a few times. He can't get enough of looking at you.

The interview is over far too soon for the both of you and just when you're about to pack up your stuff and go home to work out the interview, Sebastian stops you.

"I hope I'm not overstepping here, but would you mind grabbing a coffee sometime? If you're from around here, that is," he says, suddenly getting a little shy.

"Well, I'm out here for work until tomorrow morning, but once you're back in New York, I'd love to take you up on your offer since I live there," you tell him, and you can't help but smile.

The thought of Sebastian asking you out makes the butterflies go crazy, and when you see the relief washing over him, you know you made the right choice by saying yes.

"Let me give you my number, and you can text me when you're back in New York if you still want to grab a coffee, of course," you tell him, and he nods furiously before grabbing his phone and letting you put your phone number in it.

"I have to go now, but it was lovely to meet you, and I can't wait to grab a coffee with you when we're home," he says, and he bends down to place a soft kiss on your cheek, his stubble tickling you a little bit.

Little did you know it would be the start of a great friendship and one of the most loving relationships you've ever built with someone. It was your first Christmas together that would change the dynamic, however.

"Do you want to spend Christmas together this year? If you don't plan to go home, of course," Sebastian asks you during your weekly video call.

He's away to film another Marvel movie, but Christmas will be spent back in New York, which is perfect timing for both of you. You haven't seen him for the last three months, and even though it's nice to video call, you miss his hugs, smiles, and touches. You miss him.

"I would love to, but only if you're cooking dinner for me because the lord knows if I do it, there won't be anything to eat for us that evening!" you joke, and Sebastian laughs wholeheartedly, which makes your heart skip a beat or two.

Your crush on him has only intensified over the last year, and he has developed feelings for you as well, but with his busy shooting schedule, you don't see each other as much as you'd like.

Sebastian plans to make it extra special this Christmas and wants to spend the holiday with you. He's been planning on telling you how he feels for a while, and it will be the perfect opportunity to do just that.

"Of course, I'll cook; I'd rather not starve on Christmas, thank you very much!" he quips back, and you shake your head, chuckling at his comment.

It promises to be the most memorable Christmas you have ever spent, and you're glad you don't have to celebrate it alone this year. With your parents living on the other side of the world, seeing them over Christmas is not an option, so you usually take some time off, read a book or two, and relax.

"In that case, I'll gladly celebrate Christmas with you, Sebastian. I can't wait," you tell him, and the weeks leading up to it felt like they flew by.

It is the day before Christmas when Sebastian arrives in New York, and you've offered to pick him up from the airport, which he gladly accepted.

"Hi, Sweetheart," he says as he walks out the doors after baggage claim, hauling a suitcase behind him and a backpack over his shoulders. He's been filming in California for a while, so he has a healthy glow all over his face, making him look stunning.

"I can't believe we're spending Christmas together; it's a big step from having to spend it alone," you tell him softly, getting a little embarrassed that you just admitted to him that you're usually alone on the happiest time of the year.

"Wait, you're always alone on Christmas?! I'm glad I offered to spend it together! Can't have my best girl being alone during the holidays now, can I?" Sebastian asks, and you nod in agreement.

You didn't miss how he called you his best girl, and it made your cheeks heat up, which didn't go unnoticed by Sebastian. You both have this effect on one another, and you wouldn't change it for anything.

The next day, Sebastian rings your doorbell a little after noon, and you've opted to wear a Christmas-themed sweater. When you open the door, you find Sebastian with a Christmas sweater and a present under his arm.

"You look gorgeous today, Sweetheart," Sebastian tells you as he pulls you into his side and kisses your cheek softly. It has yours heating up instantly, and you're feeling very fortunate to have someone as sweet as him by your side today.

The afternoon is spent preparing dinner, drinking hot cocoa, and watching Home Alone, an absolute Christmas classic. When you think this day couldn't be any more perfect, Sebastian whips out an envelope and hands it to you.

I wrote this for you, and I'm sorry if it's a little cheesy, but I figured I go big or go home, and I'd rather not go home, so..." he says, a deep red blush taking over his cheeks and neck as he hands you the envelope.

It's a light pink envelope with your name in his handwriting, and you pull open the envelope to find a small letter inside.

Sweetheart,

The past year, you have shown me what it is like to live life to the fullest, no matter what life throws your way. Meeting you has also brought me immense joy; because of that, I want to ask you something.

Will you do me the honor of making me the happiest guy on earth and be my girlfriend?

~ Sebastian

When you finish reading the little note, you slap your hand over your mouth out of excitement and practically fling yourself into his arms as you pull him close.

"I'd love to be your girlfriend, Sebastian."

His hand cups your cheek before he pulls you in for a soft, sweet kiss. Even though it's not the first you've shared with him, it is by far the most special one, and it is the cherry on top of the Christmas cake.

Today will be your first time staying at Sebastian's house; honestly, the nerves are starting to kick in. He's seen your place a few times and slept there, but this is quite a step outside your comfort zone.

In your home, it's precisely how you like it and where you feel most comfortable, and you've discussed this with Sebastian. He is a true sweetheart because he has repeatedly reassured you that it's okay and you can sleep at home if you don't feel comfortable.

Your outfit has been laid out and ready to go for the last two days, and you can't wait to put it on and officially make your way to see Sebastian because you've missed him a lot.

Between his filming schedule and you flying all over the country to do more interviews, you have little time to see one another, but now that the universe is finally letting you be together, you want to look your absolute best.

After a shower and a thorough grooming session, you're putting your hair into two space buns with a few loose strands framing your face, and your makeup is very natural.

When your outfit is on, and your overnight bag is packed, you text Sebastian to tell him you're about to leave since it's still a 45-minute drive to his house, especially with the New York traffic.

Your work bag is also coming since you'll head straight to work the following day. It's a good thing he lives close to your office because that gives you more time to cuddle up to him, which is one of your favorite things to do in the morning.

What you didn't know, however, is that Sebastian has been preparing for your arrival. Not just by making sure his house is spotless but also by putting a little ''welcome home'' package together for you.

When he's about to step into the shower, he hears his phone go off, and when your name appears on his screen, he gets a wide grin, and his mood is instantly lifted.

''Can't wait to see you soon, Sweetheart,'' he says to no one, and he hops into the shower to prepare for your arrival. His place is spotless, there are clean sheets on the bed, and the care package is waiting on the kitchen island, ready to be unpacked by you.

He went above and beyond by choosing out a pair of the fuzziest socks he could find, as well as a big box of your favorite tea and a cute mug with it, a book from your wishlist you can leave at his place, and a bag of your favorite sweet treats to finish it.

He also has a small black box waiting for later, but that would have to wait until you two are comfortable on the couch because he wants to save it for a special moment.

When he's done in the shower, he quickly dries his hair and puts on a simple outfit before spraying his cologne. Now, he's ready to welcome you at his house and getting nervous because he's unsure if you will like it.

He grabbed the little box he was planning on giving you later and flipped open the top one last time as he looked at its contents. It shines beautifully in the sunlight, illuminating the room through the large windows.

With a small sigh, he shuts the box and puts it in one of the side table drawers next to his couch. It's all he can think about now, but before he can think about it too long, his doorbell rings, notifying him of your arrival.

He jogs to the door, and when he's there, he straightens out his long, dark brown locks and clothing one last time before swinging open the door and welcoming you inside.

''Sweetheart, I'm so glad you made it,'' he tells you as he pulls you in for a hug, and you instantly melt into his embrace.

''Missed you,'' you tell him, though it's muffled by the jacket he's wearing, and it only makes Sebastian chuckle.

''What did you say, Sweetheart? I don't think I got what you said just now,'' he tells you, and you reluctantly pull out of his hold so you can tell him again how much you've missed him.

''I missed you, but I'm thrilled to see you again,'' you tell him, pulling him closer so you can kiss him properly. Your lips fit perfectly with his, and it lights a fire inside of you that instantly makes you want more.

He takes your bottom lip between his teeth and nibbles softly before letting go with a soft moan. It was all just a plan to tease you a little so he could make the rest of the night unforgettable.

Your eyes are half-lidded as you look at him in anticipation, but instead of giving you what you're looking for, he pulls you into his house, closing the door behind you.

''I got you something to welcome you into my home and hopefully make it our home,'' he tells you as he interlaces his fingers with yours. He steps to the side to reveal the little basket on the kitchen island when you're in the kitchen.

''I-Is this for me? You didn't have to do that!'' you tell him, though your curiosity takes over, and you can't resist a peek inside the basket.

You take out everything and look at it, especially the mug he bought for you that leaves you chuckling. When you pick up the book and read the back, Sebastian walks closer to you and pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapped around you and his chin leaning on your shoulder.

''I figured you could leave this here, so you will always have a few things around here that are all yours for the next time you come over,'' he tells you, and you close your eyes as a huge smile escapes.

''I'm glad I'm allowed to come back after today,'' you say as you put the book on the counter and turn into his hold, kissing him softly and slowly until Sebastian bends down and lifts you onto the kitchen island.

''Well, there's one more surprise for you, and you need to close your eyes and stay seated, alright?'' Sebastian asks, and you hum in response, so he walks to the living room and gets the small black box he was holding earlier, unable to wait any longer.

''Alright, you can open them,'' Sebastian says, and he's standing in front of you with the black box open, and your eyes are immediately pulled to the contents of it.

''I want you to have this, Sweetheart, because you already have the key to my heart, and now I want you to have the key to my house as well. I want you to be able to come and go whenever you want to since there's no one else I trust more than you.''

You take the key out of the box and look at it before closing your hand around it and stretching the other one out to take Sebastian's and pull him between your legs.

''In that case, it's only fair if I give you the key to my house as well, but only if you promise not to sneak up on me in the middle of the night because I will knock you out if you do it!'' you tell him between chuckles.

You seal your promises to one another with a kiss, and you put the key beside you on the counter before your hands slide into his hair, pulling softly, earning yourself a groan from Sebastian.

''Let's move this to the bedroom, Sweetheart, and I'll give you a tour of the house later. Right now, I need you,'' he tells you between open-mouthed kisses along your neck and collarbone, your head thrown back to give him access.

He pulls you off the counter, and once you're sturdy on the floor, he whispers something in your ear that has your knees buckling underneath you.

''You'd better enjoy the walk while you still can, Sweetheart, because I'm going to make sure you won't be able to walk for the rest of the day.''

He grabs your hand and leads the way to his bedroom, and he kicks the door shut before he attaches his mouth to yours again, the kiss a clash of tongues, a fight over dominance which Sebastian wins.

You are both undressing one another and when your dress has found its way onto the floor, you're standing in front of Sebastian in your white lingerie with red hearts on it. His breath hitches as he takes it in, his large hands gliding over the soft fabric adorning your body.

''Hmm, it's too bad you're not as innocent as this fucking lingerie makes you look right now, Sweetheart. Luckily, it'll be on the floor soon anyway,'' he purrs in your ear, making you unbelievably wet.

Your long fingernails drag from his chest, over his abdomen, down to his belt, unbuckling it quickly before pulling the fabric of his jeans down. You crouch down with it before sitting on your knees, and you palm his now hard cock through his underwear.

''How about I show you just how not-so-innocent I can be with my mouth?'' you tease him, and you feel him throb in your hand. He throws his head back with a loud groan as he's getting painfully hard now.

You pull his boxers down and throw them to the side, allowing his long, veiny cock to spring free right in front of your face, the red tip already leaking a bead of precum that you happily lick off.

''Tastes so good, Daddy,'' you whine softly, and the grin on Sebastian's face is unmistakable; he's about to ruin you in every single way you can think of.

After a few more small kitten licks on his tip, you take it into your mouth and you suckle softly. And Sebastian removes both hair ties from your hair, letting it fall around your head.

''Much better, Sweetheart, that way Daddy can fuck your beautiful throat like he wants to,'' he says, and your nails dig into his thighs at the idea, making Sebastian hiss at the feeling.

While you're looking up at him with big, glassy eyes, you slowly take more of him into your mouth until your nose is pressed to his pubic bone, and you're choking around his length.

When you pull back, you take in a few deep breaths of the oxygen you have just deprived yourself of, and you smile wickedly at Sebastian, who grabs some of your hair and pushes his cock back into your mouth, needing to cum down your throat.

''Want me to fuck this throat, Sweetheart? Want me to fuck this tight, perfect throat and cum in it, make you swallow it like my perfect cumslut?'' he asks you in a slightly degrading tone, but it only serves to make you even hornier, and your cunt clenches around nothing.

You moan around him, and he takes that as confirmation he needs to start fucking your throat and chasing his high in the process. The gagging sounds you make only spur him on, and his hips are snapping at a rapid pace until he shoots his cum down your throat and over your tongue, ensuring you get every last drop.

''Fuck, you're so good for me, Sweetheart, such a good girl for Daddy.''

With your eyes half-lidded and your panties soaked, Sebastian helps you up and walks you backward to the bed until you're lying down. When you're comfortable, he takes off your bra and panties so you're entirely bare for him, and he crawls over your body.

''Let me make you feel good, Sweetheart. You deserve it after making me feel so fucking amazing; my soul left my body through my cock,'' he whispers between kisses from your stomach and your breasts up to your neck and jaw.

''Please, Daddy,'' you beg, and Sebastian's too impatient to make you wait any longer, as he needs to be buried inside you right this moment.

He lines himself up with your entrance before pushing in slowly, letting you adjust to his length before pushing in further. When he's fully sheathed inside of you, he lets out a groan, and a moan escapes your lips.

His hands find yours, and he interlaces his fingers with yours before slowly pumping in and out of you, making sure you feel every single inch, ridge, and vein inside of you.

''Hmm, I remember practicing how to ask you out in a mirror after that interview. You bumping into me that day is truly the best thing that has ever happened to me, Sweetheart,'' Sebastian confesses as he keeps his slow, almost unbearable pace the same.

''Couldn't live with the fact that I might not see you again, so I practiced, and I'm so glad it worked out, Sweetheart. I can't imagine being anywhere other than inside of your perfect, tight, soaked pussy right now. She's clenching around me, baby. Are you about to cum for Daddy?'' he asks you, and you nod; all that's leaving your mouth are moans and whines because you're so close.

''Hmm, you better cum around my cock, Sweetheart, want to cum inside this perfect pussy,'' he groans in your ear, and he lets go of your hand to rub your clit while simultaneously picking up the pace, and you lock your ankles behind around his hips.

''D-Daddy! Please, need to cum,'' you plea, and he listens because before you know it, you fall apart from the combination of his fingers and cock inside you, and Sebastian closely follows you.

Long ropes of his cum shoot into your puffy, overstimulated cunt, but he doesn't want to pull out since you're so warm and comfortable. He turns over with you in his arms, and he pulls the comforter over both of you as you snuggle into him, still buried deep inside you.

You take a short nap in his arms as you cockwarm him, and when you wake up, you feel Sebastian tracing soft, slow patterns on your back.

''Hi, Daddy,'' you whisper against his neck, and he turns to look at you.

''Hi, Sweetheart. How was your nap?'' he asks you, and you can confirm it was the best nap you've had in a long time. After you've woken up entirely, you're both taking a bath together before moving your cuddle session to the couch, and you're ordering dinner so you don't have to leave each other's sides.

Later in the evening, you're attempting to get up from the couch, but you're not allowed because Sebastian pulls you back onto the sofa, making you squeal.

''No, you can't get up! You're my prisoner for today!'' he tells you and pulls you onto his lap to attack you with many tickles, making you laugh and squirm uncontrollably.

''N-No! Please, sto-o-o-p!'' you tell him, and eventually, he does. But not after a few more surprise ones when you've caught your breath again.

When it's finally time to go to bed, you lay your head on Sebastian's chest with a soft sigh, and before you drift off to sleep, you mutter a few more words to him that have him chuckling softly.

''You're my new pillow, so I will never let you go.''

This was when he officially knew he would marry you one day because he could not live without you for another second. He wants your love and happiness around him for the rest of his life.

#fluffcember 2023 #afgkinkbingo #anyfandomkinkbingo #rpf #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan smut #seb stan #seb stan fanfic #seb stan fanfiction #seb stan x female reader #seb stan x reader #seb stan x y/n #seb stan fluff #seb stan smut

[jadedrrose]

(congrats on 1k !!! 🎊🎊)

wanna request a sfw fluffy oneshot for law, one that’s just like taking care of him (he needs a break fr!!) i don’t have anything specific in mind so i’ll leave it up to you 🤭

Just Relax For Once

thank you!!!! This is officially my first completed request for the 1k event, omg 😭 I hope you enjoy it!!!! Edit: I ALMOST FORGOT TO GIVE THIS A TITLE OMG

Warnings: g/n reader, fluff, not proof-read

You’ve honestly lost track of how many times this has gone on this week. 

At least five. And that was only this week alone. Every evening, Law would claim he’d have too much work to do and would come to bed later. Except later, in his mind, was either the incredibly early hours of the morning, or never. And this week, it had almost always been never.

Today was the third day in a row where you’d once again woken up to your bed half empty. Law’s side would remain untouched, sheets cold and pillow still fluffed up as though nobody’s head had lay on it. 

You’d go about your normal morning routine, not taking too much time. Then without fail, you’d walk over to Law’s little office room aboard the Polar Tang, gently open the door, and discover him sleeping at his desk, in the most uncomfortable position you’d ever seen. 

His back would always be hunched over, right arm folded underneath his head which was halfway smushed into the desk. Law’s left arm would hang loosely by his side, lightly swaying as his chest rose and fell with every breath he took. Honestly, the sight was endearing, almost cute, but it always upset you to see he’d overworked himself yet again. 

Walking to his side quietly, you gently placed a hand onto your husband’s shoulder, slowly rubbing your palm against the skin to gradually wake him.

“Law,” you whispered, giving him an expectant look as you waited for him to awaken. 

He grumbled something incoherent, turning his head in the opposite direction of where you stood beside him.

“Law,” you tried again, gently shaking him this time. “Wake up. You fell asleep at your desk again.”

Law groaned this time, slowly raising his head up before rubbing his face with his left hand. “What time is it?” He asked you, voice hoarse and rough.

“Eleven.”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, then?” He further questioned, slowly blinking as he tried waking himself up more.

“Eleven in the morning, Law,” you clarified with the rolling of your eyes. “You’ve been in here since… what, ten last night?”

“Ah, shit,” he cursed, voice clearing as he seemed fully conscious now. “M’sorry, y/n.”

“No, Law,” you shook your head. “Don’t apologize, okay? You’re stressed, baby.”

“No I’m not,” he denied, pouting his lips as soon as he was done speaking.

You giggled, “mhm. Still, I want you to relax for once.”

“I’m clearly relaxed right now,” Law argued, gesturing to how he was half-laying at his desk.

“No, if anything you’re straining your back too much and ruining your posture. Come on, Law. You’re the doctor here. You should know this better than anyone,” you lectured, placing your hands on your hips and raising an eyebrow at your lover.

“As a doctor, it’s my job to take care of others,” he replied, finally standing up and stretching. 

Law raised his arms above his head, hands forming into fists as his limbs seemingly trembled, a yawn escaping his lips as he stretched. The sight was a pleasing one to you, and if it hadn’t been for your concerned behavior over your husband, you would’ve been shamelessly admiring the view before you.

“So you’ll take care of others but not yourself?” You questioned, in reference to his comment before you’d nearly become distracted.

“Who says I have to?” 

Sighing, you crossed your arms and gave the raven-haired man a deadpanned look, “you’re so childish, Law.”

“Could be worse,” he hummed, giving you a lazy smirk. “You could’ve married that idiot Euastass. Or even Mugiwara-ya.”

Amused, you scoffed with a smile playing on your lips. “Luffy is hardly an adult, even if he technically is one. Kidd… creeps me out, so…”

“So you picked the right one?” Law tried finishing your sentence, a smile forming on his face.

“Sure,” you giggled. “Because at least you shower.” 

Law let out a loud, genuine laugh at your statement. His laughter caused you to go from quiet giggles to joining in on the more audible amusement. 

“Speaking of which, maybe you should take a bath?”

“Why? We never do that, waste’s too much time-“

“Because I want you to relax,” you explained, already shoving Law out of his office and back toward your bedroom. 

He let out an annoyed groan, but really, you could tell Law was looking forward to the princess treatment, at the way he simply let you drag him into the bathroom. 

—

Once he was in the bath, you sat up on the ledge behind him, working shampoo into his messy black hair. Law leaned into your touch, drumming his tattooed fingers against the edge of the tub as you massaged his scalp.

Gently, you used your nails to scratch at his hair, and you could’ve sworn your husband was a cat, at the way he leaned further into you and practically purred with satisfaction.

After Law’s hair was clean, you massaged his back and shoulders with some body soap in your hands. The black tattoos on his tanned body seemingly disappeared underneath the foamy substance, the room filling with a sweet scent as you worked away.

Once the bath was done, you finally got Law into bed, making sure he had plenty of pillows and would be nice and warm underneath the blankets. 

“I’m not leaving until I know you’re asleep,” you said, with a teasing tone. “Then I’ll go ahead and make you some breakfa-“ your eyes flicked to the clock, which read twelve-forty five. “-lunch, rather. ‘Kay?”

“Okay,” Law agreed, playfully raising an eyebrow at you before closing his eyes. And honestly, you were surprised at how quickly he fell asleep. He must’ve been really tired.

Smiling, you hopped off the bed and made your way to the kitchen, figuring you should make something Law would especially enjoy waking up to. 

Grilled fish it was, then.

#trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x y/n #Trafalgar law x g/n reader #law x reader #law x y/n #law x you #law x g/n reader #trafalgar d water law x y/n #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law x you #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #jadedrrose 1000 event

[raayllum]

Your Aunt's Spirit In You :: Callum & Amaya, a Meta

Was thinking about these two due to writing a scene between them in a recent oneshot, and then about the similarities they have, so thought - why not? Especially for a shorter meta than more of the long form ones I have siting in my drafts, let's talk about Callum and Amaya

As always, SIMILARITIES first:

Both loyal siblings to a monarch (Sarai through marriage, Ezran through birth)

Taken captive and interrogated by elves

Willing to sacrifice themselves for the good of the group (special shout out to 3x01 which puts this back to back * )

* This is slightly negated by Rayla, not Callum, being the one to actually risk her life (as she talks Callum out of risking his own quite easily) whereas Amaya goes through with it. Still, Callum's sentiment and willingness is there (and on multiple occasions), so it's included. ("I need you to kill me" being another example)

Skeptical, distrustful, and good at reading people (even if Callum changes his mind about Rayla and Amaya does not about Viren)

Good planners / generals (see my General Callum tag here)

Often times more decisive than their partner (Rayla often hesitates, which Janai worries about as well) and encouraging them to prioritize their own needs as well above just their 'duty'

In 4x01, they are both worried about secrets (as a result of war based trauma) and potential attacks, even though both 'secrets' wind up being something positive and wonderful (successfully for Amaya - as she is proposed to and happily rejoices with her partner - and an attempt for Callum, as it leaves him forlorn because his partner is still missing)

Slightly darker sense of humour, maybe ("Now that you'll officially be my little brother, I'll try not to beat you up too much" + "Besides, she only eats three people a day. It's a small price to pay for peace")

And last but not least, there is Janai's assessment of their similarities (aka the meta title) that accompanies the soundtrack piece of "Like Aunt, Like Nephew".

Callum does often undertake dangerous quests / make dangerous choices (travelling across the world to return a dragon egg, throwing himself off a mountain, running into what he believes to be a trap, etc). This is, however, much like how Aaravos' assessment of Callum in 4x04 ("and my favourite, the human mage, already tainted by darkness, and destined to play right into my hands") is true for all of his mage pawns up to that point (Ziard, Claudia, and Viren in the past), true of just about every character in the show. Which makes sense - in an action/adventure fantasy show, most of the characters are going to have to be okay about throwing themselves into danger just by proxy of genre. In most of the trio scenes where someone is hurling themselves into danger, it is usually Rayla first - and then Callum, stepping up if/when she can't do something on her own.

As you might've noticed while there are similarities, outside of their skepticism and willingness to sacrifice (which is again, something most characters in the show have) there aren't that many that go beyond more surface level "these events both happen to these characters," as Amaya and Callum's mindsets aren't that similar, which are the bulk of the main differences we're going to talk about next.

DIFFERENCES:

Prejudice (or therefore lack of)

Amaya is very prejudiced against elves ("Moonshadow elves - the worst kind [...] Don't worry, Callum, I've slain monsters before") at the beginning of the show, whereas Callum never is. He still holds some poor misconceptions (mostly the blood drinking) but he still always sees them as 1) people and 2) therefore worth reasoning with: "Can't you just make peace with them? You don't want to die, I'm sure the elves and dragons don't want to die, so everyone agrees"and his first conversation(s) with Rayla.

2. The ways in which Amaya is similar to Viren are largely different than the ways Callum is similar to Viren.

Amaya devoted her life to safeguarding the Breach and their kingdom's borders, a form of security that Viren was worried about and continued to be worried about once he came into power. Amaya and Viren can both be a little two-faced, willing to present a trusting front and hide their ulterior motives (most notably from each other, and something Rayla has in common arguably with both of them), whereas Callum is incredibly honest most of the time and is very bad at covering up his emotions (something he also has in common with Rayla, since although she often tries to cover things up, she routinely fails at it).

Viren is willing to send his children after the princes in spite of the danger of their secret missions ("if you must choose, choose the egg") and Amaya is willing to hold the Breach rather than go after her nephews, leaving Corvus to do so in her stead. This is very different than Callum, who automatically and often times insists on going along with his loved ones (Ezran, Rayla) when they're embarking on dangerous journeys of their own.

On that note, Amaya and Viren are both also taken captive by the Sunfire elves and given the Trial of Light, with very different outcomes that S5 also reaffirms for Callum, so let's talk about it:

3. The Light Will Decide Your Fate

During Janai's interrogation of Amaya, and Finnegrin's interrogation of Callum, the two respond very differently. Both Janai and Finnegrin want information, but Janai doesn't resort to torture even when Amaya remains entirely silent on any and all matters, and Finnegrin keeps pushing at Callum (and Callum keeps giving up information) even if he doesn't give up what Finnegrin wants, at first.

Amaya's trial is specifically about whether or not she's "pure of heart" or, more accurately, whether or not she's done dark magic. Her interrogation and test, if you will, ends with her passing it - to Khessa's surprise. Amaya is not a mage, and certainly not a dark mage, and is therefore going to interact and approach the world differently than a mage - human or elven or otherwise - would. Callum's interrogation and test is also about dark magic, and he does not 'pass it', lmao.

Because where Amaya had to confront the Light, Callum had to confront his Dark.

This is where we get into more of the mindset differences.

Amaya is willing to cut her losses (if she cannot successfully defend the Breach, she will destroy it, circa 3x01) but Callum almost never does (staying too late in the Great Bookery, for example; holding onto hope that Harrow might be alive even when he knows deep down he knows better, etc). Amaya refuses to give up the Sun Seed for her partner's life, knowing it safeguards a bright future and is what Janai would want her to do; Callum does give Finnegrin the spell and does dark magic to save Rayla, even when she wouldn't ultimately want him to do either of those things on her behalf. 5x08 makes this comparison particularly clear by juxtaposing these two deals and scenes throughout the episode.

Part of this is because, as Amaya acknowledges, for a great deal of her life, she and Callum had very different ideas regarding strength - which is exactly what allows these perspectives to switch:

When she died, I felt lost and weak without her. I hated feeling that way, so I learned to be strong alone. Stoic, strong... and lonely.

But the last two years have changed everything. Meeting Janai, falling in love, I am stronger than I ever was... because we are stronger together. And I realized that was the real truth of me and Sarai, too.

Callum has, up until about halfway through 5x08, always believed that he (and others) are ultimately stronger together, and we see this reflected through the first four seasons and into season five. However, the back half of 5x08 begins to greatly challenge this. Meanwhile, this is something that both Amaya and to a more detailed degree, Rayla, have had to learn. Because, when it comes to how they've responded to trauma, Amaya and Rayla are more similar to one another (and arguably to Viren in this way) than Amaya is to Callum, who by and large has a very different trauma response.

CONCLUSION (??)

While Amaya and Callum do have some similarities, Amaya is not extraordinarily similar to either of her nephews - Callum included - due to their differences in occupation, mindset, and trauma response. The similarities they do share are mostly things that they each share with Viren (such as skepticism) or share with most of the general cast (intelligence - although Callum is a standout - and bravery, for example). Most of their parallels, therefore, are put there to provide contrasts within similar themes (mostly in S1, 4x01, and 5x08), and they do not parallel more than any particular pair of characters in the show (seriously, you could throw a dart and probably find parallels between almost anyone, the show is so steeped in them, so looking at consistency and structure is key). Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed.

—Dragons out

#tdp amaya #tdp callum #tdp meta #the dragon prince #tdp #analysis series #amaya #punching someone in the face is not a thematic parallel in this show i'm sorry to report #however these two do have their similarities & differences #analysis #arc 1 #arc 2 #multi

[rouecentric]

how about cassius pedelian with a fiance who gift him a bouquet of roses in their first date? did he get surprised because it since probably he never received a bouquet, especially from his future spouse.

- @lyomeii

FLOWERS FOR ONE.

cassis pedelian recieving flowers from his fiance on their first date // modern au, half oneshot half headcanon, fluff, gender neutral reader, arranged marriage but they're cool with it, some lore drops in the hc part but oh well, NOT PROOFREAD.

cassis pedelian, he was the heir of a famous company and the older brother of sylvia pedelian, an extremely well known model in the industry. he was your arranged fiance.

and you were also another heir to a rival company, however being an only child. the two of you had first met during a social event as children.

although it was brief, both of you had remembered each other the next time you had met, officially this time. during a meeting both of your parents held, agreeing to wed both of their eldest children for certain benefits that you didn't care enough to pay attention to.

of course, a first date was mandatory for the two of you to have in order to get to know each other, with the designated place being a highly rated restaurant in the early night.

"are those for me?" the albino asked, eyeing the bouquet in front of him with a slightly confused expression on his face as his gaze fixated from the bouquet to his fiance.

"yes, i thought that you'd like these." name replied, their grip on the bouquet of roses slightly tightened out of nervousness before easing their hold on them, nervously smiling at their fiance.

of course, name's smile almost fell as they watched the pedelian heir take the bouquet from their hands, an unreadable expression on his face.

"..thank you." cassis thanked the person, a small smile formed as he felt heat rush to his face, not having expected to recieve flowers from his fiance. maybe this arranged marriage won't be this bad.

now, once cassis recieves those flowers, he's honestly taken aback, the only times he really received flowers were as congratulation gifts, mostly from his family, so recieving a bouquet of red roses from his future spouse was a welcome surprise.

when the he gets home after the date, he immediately goes to get the roses put in a vase filled with water, leaving the vase in his room to always be reminded of your first date with him! ^^

#THIS IS SO SHORT IM SORRY. #I literally didn't know what to write for him bc that man is so hard for me to write for #manhwa x reader #manhwa #manhwaxreader #headcannons #twtptflob #modern au #twtptflob x reader #romantic #platonic #can be both read as romantic and platonic tbh

[marvelsswansong]

summer child

summary: you're terrified of falling in love. So though your heart aches for him, you reject Steve's love and his requests to become official in hopes of pushing him away. But he's never left. Only ever squeezing your hands tenderly and telling you that he'll wait for you: no matter how long it takes.

tags: Steve x gn!reader, tw: reader has love/commitment issues and brief mention of having toxic parent(s), fluff overtones with light angst underneath, happy ending tho, best friends Eddie & Robin, oneshot

☆ word count: 4.5K+ ☆

-> a/n: based on the amazing song by the same name by Conan Gray, highly recommend listening whilst/after reading :) slight off canon, loosely follows Vecna s4 vol1 events.

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

You can't stand it when Steve stares at you like that, you think to yourself. With so much love. With so much hope. With so much... happiness.

It makes your stomach twist in discomfort, the awfully warm sensation of feeling loved totally unregisterable to you when the horrible voice in the back of your mind continues to whisper that Steve deserves much better than you.

Someone less damaged. Someone less afraid of commitment. Someone who would gladly call themselves his and bask in the sunny glory of his love. After all, he's the Steve Harrington - how many times have you heard (and thought) that you're so incredibly lucky to have the king of Hawkins High fall in love with you? Countless.

"You look positively breathtaking when you zone out like that." he teases in the present, smile lines cutting into his dimpled cheekbones. He's leaning against his arms, boyish grin marking his symmetrical face. It's a gorgeous sight, you have to admit - his upper muscles flexing underneath his white polo shirt, strong legs peeking out from his blue linen shorts, chestnut brown hair turned near blonde under the summer sun.

He's perfection, you think. Unlike you, who's chosen to sit in a rather precarious position: it's a date, technically, but you're sitting a few inches away from him with your knees drawn up to your chest. Head drawn downwards, resting on your legs, arms shielded underneath a long sleeved cardigan despite the heat.

"I look fine. Just ok, Harrington." you correct him lightly, the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips, though it isn't fully realized. He shakes his head sideways at that, tongue poking out to wet his lips.

"Modesty might be a virtue but lying is a sin." is Steve's response, ever so good natured and well mannered. "You're even more stunning than the view." he adds, gesturing to the clear glass lake twinkling in front of you.

He then frowns ever so slightly, cocking his head sideways.

"If only there were more flowers here. Other than the lake and trees it's just... dirt and weeds." he trails off, before his eyes widen in alarm and he quickly looks to you with a reassuring gaze. "Not that I'm complaining. As long as I'm with you."

It's so easy for Steve to compliment you like that. Tell you that you're the center of his whole universe, the lifeline to his beating heart, the object of his innermost desire. It makes you shift awkwardly in your seat, though you internally lie and tell yourself it's because of the cool winds caressing against your exposed ankles. The cedar tree you're sitting under blows alongside the wind, causing a few stray leaves to fall onto Steve's hair.

Your first thought is that you want to carefully brush the foliage off of his head. Have your fingers tenderly caress his scalp, one hand steadying his face so you can neatly pick out the leaves from his curls.

But it feels too intimate to ask for. Too couple-y, or whatever the exact word is, that would shatter the illusion you've built up for yourself to describe whatever the fuck your relationship with Steve currently is. So you stay silent, only ever shifting to point to indicate he's got something on his head.

"Oh. Thanks." he says sheepishly, calloused hands flying upwards to fix his hair. "You're a lifesaver."

His irises fracture into a million light crystals from the reflection of the sun bouncing off of the calm lakes, eyes burning with adoration paired with that beautiful smile. It makes your body shake and mind to turn to mush, forcing you to change the topic of conversation. Fast.

"You're wrong about the flowers. There's one right there-" you point out, index finger directed towards the east side of the lake. His eyes follow where your finger ends, before a determined smile appears on his face.

"So there is. Wait for me, will you?"

Before you can even question him, he's stripping down to his boxer shorts and diving into the lake headfirst, cold droplets of water splashing onto your thighs at the impact. The giggle that escapes your lips die in your mouth when you realize what he's doing - he's swimming over to the small set of rocks on the east side of the lake to retrieve the flower.

He cradles the delicate flower - pink petals blossoming in perfect spirals - with his left arm raised in the air, keeping the specimen perfectly dry until he reaches the shore. Grinning from ear to ear, he sits back down on the picnic mat next to you, hair and clothes still dripping with water.

"Can I-" he gestures with the flower, asking for your permission to tuck it underneath your ear. You should say no. Your lips twist into an unreadable shape, the words "no thanks" already on the tip of your tongue, rejecting love being a secondhand instinct at this point.

But you find that you're unable to resist it, this singular act of affection. You blame it on the sizzling heat and the way he continues to look at you, even when you're staring at him with a cold expression in silence, the look of unadulterated affection on his end never wavering.

"Okay." is thus all you can manage.

If he's surprised at your response, he doesn't show it. No, instead he leans in close, so close you can individually drop the water droplets adorning his hairline, and tucks the stems neatly behind your ear.

"And you say you don't get prettier every time I see you."

You roll your eyes, shoving him lightly in the shoulder, making him lose his balance. He throws his head back, a loud laugh ripping through his throat, and it's impossible to stop a small smile from creeping onto your face too.

"Just shut up and watch the scenery."

---------------------------------------

The basement of the Wheeler house is quiet.

Too quiet, you think. The never ending silence does little to calm your anxieties as Max calmly sleeps on your lap, head tucked against your upper legs, one arm protectively wrapped around your waist. You have no idea how she managed to get comfortable in this position - you and her squeezed in between three meager blue cushions - but she's dealing with so much that you can't find it in your heart to push her away.

You don't even know how much sleep she's been getting lately anyways. What in between the headaches, nightmares, constant threat of being the victim of a supernatural unknown, and the stabbing grief felt by her brother's absence. Love torn away so cruelly, so tragically.

The thought of it makes you nauseous. You've seen how much it hurts people when they lose a loved one. That level of attachment and adoration, what happens when that is inevitably ripped away in a death or a divorce or a breakup. How people walk around as shells of their former selves.

You won't ever let that happen to yourself, you repeat in your head. Even if a very gorgeous and compassionate Steve Harrington is bringing you a cup of water right now, tired smile on his face as he sits on a chair right across from you.

The fireplace reflects as orange orbs in his warm brown eyes, the same eyes which fall onto observe how you lightly stroke the redheaded girl's hair. All guards down, letting yourself be sentimental and protective. His gaze feels prickly against your skin, making your movements falter underneath his persistent gaze.

"Stop staring, Harrington." you whisper, narrowing your eyes at him. He chuckles quietly at that, careful to not wake the other kids sleeping in the room - Dustin, Mike and Lucas in sleeping bags, Erica and Will crammed into another sofa, legs dangling off of the arm rest. You can hear Eddie and Robin talking amongst themselves in the swinging porch stairs outside, the only other people awake at this time of the night.

"You're so good with her, you know that?" he fawns over you, placing a warm hand on your lap. "Seriously. Max talks my ear off about you, maybe even more than I talk about you. And that's saying something."

His compliment causes goosebumps to rise along your skin, internal fire burning down your stomach. He's just so damn sweet like that, sweet potatoes coated in honey, dusted in maple sugar.

"Maybe that's a sign to stop talking about me so much." you tease, pointing a finger at him accusingly. It does little to waver his confidence, head only shaking sideways slightly as he leans back into his chair.

"Nice try, babe. But I won't be doing that anytime soon."

His hands reach into his jean pockets, fingers ruffling through the spare change, keys and a jumbled mess of papers. He pulls out the latter, combing through each piece of paper with curiousity. They're mostly receipts, but one slip of paper in particular catches your attention in the light - mainly due to the pink lipstick kiss tattooed on the front.

"What's that?" you question immediately, throat suddenly dry. His eyebrows furrow in confusion before he opens up the crumbled piece of paper and rolls his eyes, balling it back up in his fists.

"Nuh uh, give me that." you demand, taking the slip and reading it for yourself. In messy handwriting, some girl named Jodie has wrote her number alongside the words: call me, handsome. Heart dropping to your stomach, the sight makes you slightly queasy - a sensation for which you immediately chastise yourself for.

You have no reason to be jealous. None at all to be possessive or protective.

You and Steve aren't official, at your insistence, after all.

"I'm not gonna call her, by the way." Steve cuts in, as if sensing the troubled storms brewing in your mind. You look up in surprise at that, eyes wide.

"Why not?"

He carefully takes the paper out of your hand and tosses the piece of paper into the nearest trash can, throwing it across the room with ease.

"Because. Someone else is already holding my heart." he confesses into the dark, hands perched on his knees, voice so tender and raw. It pierces your heart, his honesty, how he's out here opening his whole heart for you when all you do is repeatedly shut him out. You swallow nervously, pausing your movements by pulling your hands back from brushing Max's hair.

"But wouldn't it be better to give your heart to someone who... who could give you theirs wholly, without any defenses?"

He shrugs at that, unbothered.

"I've told you over and over again. I'm a patient man. I can wait."

Fatigue begins to take hold of you at around four in the morning, but then the fire starts to die out and you straighten up in fear. Steve's quick to rise to his wobbly feet and begin to add wood into the fire before you can even warn him to do so. Watching the flames rise higher and higher, Steve smirks, shooting you a knowing glance.

"I know you hate the dark. Don't worry. You can sleep with ease. I'll watch over you."

"Shouldn't you be sleeping too?" is your response, eyes already closing shut on their own accord. You register his faint chuckle in the background amidst your sleepy haze.

"You're always taking care of everyone else, (Y/n). Let me take care you for once, okay?"

You feel his gentle hands guiding your head towards a comfy cushion, one that he's picked up and placed against the armrest for you to lean against. You don't protest, far too exhausted.

"Okay."

-----------------------------------------------

But despite everything - your aversion to his kisses, reluctance to commit, hatred of sweet talk and affection - when you call Steve , no matter the time of the night, he always picks up. It's a constant you're grateful for, especially on night like this, when your father drives you into Steve's arms.

The boy's already opened his window for you as you scale the large willow tree next to his house, shaking hands grasping rough wood, legs awkwardly hanging from branches as you attempt to maintain balance. You land on his rooftop with much difficulty, bruises already beginning to form on your knees no less.

"You could've come through the front, you know." is what he says when you finally reach his bedroom, climbing through his window, feet reaching carpeted floor. He's dressed down for the night, in nothing but a graphic t-shirt and boxer shorts, but his eyes are lively and wide awake. You even notice that he's messily tidied up his bed in between the ten minutes that's passed between calling him in tears and coming over to his place.

"Then you would've gotten in trouble with your parents." you comment, unimpressed. He only grins at that, immature and carefree, before beckoning you over to his bed.

"And? I'd get into trouble with my shitty parents for you any day."

You sit next to him on the bed, tossing your shoes off by the window and shuffling closer to him.

"Thanks. For letting me come over and shit." you lamely add, feeling incredibly bad for having come over with little warning beforehand. He's given you a spare set of keys months ago, fingers squeezing yours as he said "you can come over absolutely any time. My home is yours." But even so, coming over like this feels intrusive, like you're also making him carry your heavy emotional baggage.

But all these doubts and fears dissipate when he pulls you closer towards him, warm arms wrapping around your neck, holding you right against his chest. His head is resting on top of yours, fingers rubbing circles onto your back as you sob. The dam of emotions has broken at this point and you're too tired to care about keeping up a front for Steve.

"It's alright, baby. Let it all out."

You're completely unaware of how much time passes in his arms - you can't see anything through your tears and the dark little corner created by his arms wrapped around your figure. Your senses are overwhelmed by his warmth and the faint smell of his cologne, mixed in with the smell of fresh linen and mint staining the sheets. But when you do pull away, still teary eyed and messy, his hands come up to cup your cheeks gently.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really." you pause, feeling guilty. "Sorry."

He shakes his head sideways, sympathetic expression on his face.

"Don't apologize. Don't ever feel like you need to say sorry. You have every right to not want to talk about it."

Leaning back into him, you breathe in his scent before shakily exhaling. The exhale shakes you to the core, hairs all standing up at its ends.

"Can I stay over tonight?"

"Course you can, love."

He lets you rummage through his closet for something to wear. Your object for affection tonight, you've decided, is an oversized green tie dye shirt that reaches your knees. His eyes crinkle with a fond smile at the sight.

"Why that one?" he questions you as you sit back down. You shrug, toying with the fabric mindlessly with one hand.

"I like the color green. Reminds me of... simpler times. Like running through sprinklers on the street as a child."

Steve's smile widens at that memory, head cocking to the side.

"Ah yes. Back when you were a tiny monster, terrorizing the neighborhood with your nerf water guns."

Rolling your eyes, you lightly hit his chest with a spare pillow.

"Please. As if you were any better as a child. I distinctly remember you getting a time out from Ms.Welbeck because you were pulling pranks during nap time."

He gasps in mock horror.

"You traitor! I can't believe you would use six year old me's escapades against me in the present."

You giggle with genuine joy at the memory.

"Sorry not sorry."

Your smile fades when it hits you that that's in the past. You'll never feel that way again, that carefree and innocent and oblivious about the world. Steve's own smile falters too, mirroring your expression as you quickly slip under the covers and announce you're ready to sleep.

"Good night." you say into the night, body facing away from Steve. You're pushing him away - you've let him in too close already, coming here after the argument with your father and then reminiscing about childhood. You're expecting an argument or a passive agressive comment out of instinct, having being raised in that kind of household, but he just presses a soft kiss onto your forehead and turns the other way. Giving you the space you want (or think you want).

"Good night. I love you." he says, tenderly.

You don't say anything back to that.

-----------------------------------------------

"So what are you two?"

Eddie's the only one unaware enough - and also daringly dumb enough - to pull you aside whilst Robin and Steve busy themselves at the Family Video counter, to ask about what's been going on with you and Steve. The solo adventures. The sweet compliments from Steve. The unexplained gifts. Paired with your insistence that you two aren't official, that he's not your boyfriend and the fact that no one's actually ever since you two kiss.

"What'd you mean?" you play dumb, flicking through the new arrivals tapes in boredom. The metalhead forces your attention on him by forcibly taking out the tapes from your hands and throwing it back down into the crate, drawing a gasp of surprise from your lips.

"Come on. You and Steve. Are you two dating?"

"No." is your automatic response.

"No?" Eddie asks and it's clear he doesn't believe you.

"No, Eddie. Dating implies that we're official. Together. Steve is not my boyfriend. We haven't even kissed."

"Do you love him?" he presses you immediately after, and the question forces you to busy yourself with a row of tapes sitting across from you, face completely neutral.

"I care for him." is your response, to which Eddie rolls his eyes dramatically, flailing his arms around like a petulant child.

"You're not answering my question!"

"Then stop asking." you retort, sly smirk on your lips. He pouts at that and it makes you laugh, the expression so wholly immature and unfitting of the grunge metalhead.

Across the other end of the store, unbeknownst to you, Robin is speaking to Steve about none other than you. Steve's leaning over the tall metal cabinet, sorting through inventory, as Robin leans against the wall and quizzes Steve about how things have been going between you and him.

"Things are good." is Steve's light and polite response. Robin frowns at that, crossing her arms across her chest.

"You said the same thing a month ago." she points out, referring to the conversation they've had by the vending machine at the gas station a month ago. "Any changes?"

"I said I love you for the first time about a week or two ago, but other than that, not much." Steve casually responds, fingers outstretching to reach something on top. Robin nearly spits out the carbondated drink she's sipping on, the fizzy liquid burning her throat as she tries to catch her breath.

"You said WHAT?"

He doesn't seem even slightly frazzled by the revelation, shoulders rolling backwards when he looks back.

"What?" he questions, nonchalantly. Robin smacks him in across the shoulder lightly, shocked betrayal on her face.

"You said I love you and you didn't think to tell me about this? Dude, this is huge! W-what did (Y/n) say?"

Steve bites his lip and shrugs.

"Nothing. We just went to sleep."

Her annoyed expression twists into one of sympathy, a sorry smile on her face.

"Oh, Steve, I'm so sorry..."

"Nah, don't worry about it." he quickly waves off his best friend's concern, tender grin on his lips. "I wasn't expecting an 'i love you' back. At least not yet. I told you from the very beginning of this whole thing, Robin. I'm willing to wait."

She just sighs at that, pity lacing her words.

"You know I love you both dearly but... it's been half a year, Steve. You two are doing all the things couples do and I know the feelings are there, reciprocated and all, but... (Y/n)'s still denying that things are official. And no 'i love you back', doesn't that worry you, six months in? I-I know that there's a lot going on behind the scenes and I'm not trying to complicate things further, I just..." she pauses, searching for the right word. "Worry."

Steve stills at that, allowing his best friend's concerned words wash over him like a gentle wave. He looks up at her, reassuring smile and brave faced.

"You worry too much, Robin. Now could you pass me that stack of tapes behind you?"

Behind his tender words is a finality to his tone so she knows better than to argue or to press onwards, so she quickly obliges without another word.

--------------------------------------------

You hate the sun. You hate bright lights. But you most definitely hate demon bats and underwater portals to the hellish mirror universe.

It's beyond all logic then, that when Steve gets dragged underwater mid-conversation after revealing that the portal to the Upside Down appears to be in the murky waters below, that you jump after him without question. No change of clothes be damned. Not to mention it being so fucking dark underneath that all you're left to rely on is your mediocre swimming skills and the red ball of light shining below.

When your lungs are able to finally suck in air once more, your surroundings are burning red. False snow - splotches of grey - fall onto your shoulder as you walk down the broken pavement mirroring your town. But your mind is on overdrive seeking only one familiar figure: Steve.

In the mere nanoseconds it's passed for you to jump in after him and then wake up in the Upside Down, terrified and wide eyed with nothing but the urge to find and protect him, it hits you in full force.

You love him.

You love your best friend.

You love Steve fucking Harrington.

You love the man who's been giving you his jackets, tucking flowers behind your ear, letting you sleep in his bed, watching over you as you sleep, keeping you company in between work shifts....

And you might lose him.

It terrifies you. This kind of terror, this level of terror, is brand new. Nothing compared to the gut wrenching horrors you felt thinking about calling Steve your boyfriend or whatever other friviolous, petty bullshit you convinced yourself of prior to this.

The sound of flapping wings accompanied by pained grunts alerts you to his presence nearby and you're glad you managed to swim downstream with a metal bat in hand. It's a terrible sight, the demon bats tearing at his flesh and lower abdomen, and you swing with all your might to kill those creatures in one fell swoop. After a few minutes of struggling and shouting, you manage to drive away the hoarde of bats, others lying as carcasses around Steve's body.

"Steve, oh my god-"

Your weapon is long forgotten onto the floor, it dropping from your hand automatically as you lean down and cup his face in your hands, gently sitting him up. He hisses at that, the bloody wounds far too tender and fresh at the sudden movement. You don't hesitate to rip off your jacket and to tie it around his abdomen, anything to cover and stop the bleeding.

"D-do you think you can stand?"

He nods, though it's pained and forced. Placing one of his arms over your shoulder, you help him stand up inch by inch, a groan escaping his lips when the action is completed.

"Can you stand alone?" you question, voice wobbling. He blinks a few times before gently stepping aside, ducking under your arm, to see if he can manage it. He nods and you let out a short sigh of relief.

"Good."

A beat of silence passes before your expression twists into hot fury, your hands pushing him away in an instant. He blinks at you, surprised.

"I told you not to fucking be a hero, Harrington." you spit. "And you didn't fucking listen to me."

"I know you're angry and I totally under-" he starts, trying to calm you down, but it only angers you further.

"You don't understand SHIT, Steve! Jesus fucking christ, do you know the level of horror and panic I felt in the brief few minutes it took for you to be dragged down into this shithole and for me to then have to dive after you?" you ramble, voice rising in volume. "I get that you have a saviour complex and you want to be a good guy who saves the day but one day your luck is going to fucking run out. And it-"

Your voice finally breaks at that, tears springing to your eyes. You should be the one comforting him, after all the horrors he's been put through in a short amount of time, but Steve quickly wraps you up in his arms as you begin to crack at the seams.

"It could've been tonight. You could've died tonight." you admit into the air, shaky breaths breaking up your sentences. "I can't stand it, Steve. How I feel about you, it... it consumes me. I can't run away from it. Even if I keep you at arm's length, even if I don't let you call yourself my boyfriend, even if I refuse to call our dates as dates... I still feel so strongly about you. I-"

His breath hitches in his throat in anticipation, heart thrumming when you look up at him with teary eyes.

"I love you." you weakly whisper, hands falling to your sides. "And it fucking terrifies me. If I love you, that means if I were to lose you, it'd destroy me. I don't want to be destroyed." you ramble, shaky fingers grasping at the lapels of his jacket.

"But by rejecting love, you've been destroying yourself." Steve adds quietly, smoothing over your hair. "You deserve to be loved and to love, without any walls up or trauma swallowing you whole."

He pauses, eyes swimming with worry as he searches for the right words to console you.

"And yes, love is scary, but that's why it's a two-way street, a partnership. You love me and I'll love you. Forever."

He swallows again, lips licked in anticipation as his eyes narrow in on your lips.

"Can I, uh-"

You nod fervently, not even having to hear the rest of his sentence. When his lips finally meet yours, everything clicks into place. Everything seems to make sense, the chaotic world of destruction fading into the background as you're simply overwhelmed by one thing and one thing only. Steve's slightly cold and chapped lips meshing against yours, tasting of iron copper blood and salty tears, his fingers tenderly cupping the back of your neck.

"Am I your boyfriend now?" he teases when you two finally pull away, face mere inches from yours.

"Yes, Steve. I think you've waited long enough for it to be official. Way too long, really." you tease, poking him in the side. His smile only widens at that, so bright it's blinding.

"I'd have waited even longer for you. Anything for you."

a/n: sksksk so idk what it is about this fic but writing this was so therapeutic and poetic for me. idk if i'm the only one with fear of love issues bc it's like never talked about in mainstream media/fics but i love this song and i loved the concept of a patient, loving Steve with a partner with love/trauma issues.

this isn't the type of fluff bomb or sexy smut fic that'll garner thousands of notes but idk. i really wanted to write it. i hope you enjoyed it, dear reader, and maybe it was a bit therapeutic to you too. idk.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #steve harrington #1k

[natrogersfics]

So It Goes... - A Romanogers Oneshot

Artwork by @faith2nyc Read on AO3 Never compromise your client. If there was ever a golden rule in private security that should not be bent, it’s this one. When it comes to the person you’re assigned to serve and protect, you are not to touch. You are not to get too close. And you are definitely not to wonder what her cherry-lacquered lips taste like.

Those are the rules, and the point of rules is to follow them. It’s a value that was instilled in Steve during his time in the Army, and it’s this same value he’s founded his company upon – a company he’s not only proud of, but also one that’s responsible for the livelihoods of dozens of employees. If only for that reason alone, he knows that he must remain steadfast. A professional.

As he enters the elevator, though, every reason he’s just ruminated on becomes that much more difficult to remember. Next to him, Natasha stands silently, looking every bit the sight that she is in a black silk dress and a crisp white coat draped over her shoulders. The doors whizz shut, and as the car begins to ascend to her penthouse, the familiar scent of her lavender perfume fills his senses, and he has to clench both his hands into fists to fight off every urge he has to reach out to her.

Natasha Romanoff is his job. Ensuring she’s safe and that she remains safe is his mission, and because of that, he can’t be thinking of her this way. And, more saliently, he can’t take any of the events this evening personally.

Only problem is, everything about this job has felt personal from the outset. He couldn’t explain it, but from the moment her parents had approached him, seeking his company’s services to protect their daughter from the stalker who had already evaded security once, deftly slipping past them to hold Natasha at knifepoint in the very elevator bank they were just standing in, all he’s ever thought about is never again. Never again would someone get the opportunity to harm her. Not if he had anything to do about it.

Then he met her. Just as he had done for every new client, he had done his research. As one of the children adopted by Alexei and Melina Shostakov, she was one of the heirs to Red Guardian Realty, the largest real estate conglomerate in the country. It didn’t come as a surprise that she had attended the most prestigious schools, graduating top of her class at university and adding accomplished ballerina on top of an already impressive resume. In his experience, when it came to dealing with society’s upper echelon, that merely came with the territory. What did catch his attention, though, was the fact that he couldn’t find much else. Unlike the rest of her siblings whose faces were plastered across the tabloids every week, details about Natasha’s personal life remained elusive. He had seen pictures of her, of course, mostly next to her parents at official events, but none of those quite did her justice – none of them quite capturing how captivating her smile actually is or how her presence could command the attention of an entire room despite her petite frame. And that’s not to mention her eyes, verdant as the forest in the Summer and bright as day. He wishes he could say it was something as rudimentary as instant attraction, but even that didn’t feel encompassing enough to describe the need he felt to protect her the second his eyes met hers.

And it’s what he’s done for the last three hundred and eighty-nine days since. For more than a year, he’s been by her side, getting to know her. Keeping her out of harm’s way. Uncovering the various layers of Natasha Romanoff – the woman, who despite growing up in extreme privilege and largesse, has never treated anyone as anything but her equal. Who would go out of her way in a heartbeat to take care of those she cared about.

The more he got to know her, the more personal his mission became. And as much as he hates to admit it, she’s become more than just his job. At the very least, he had come to see her as a friend. A confidant. He convinces himself that that’s why the events of tonight have felt so personal, the ire from what he had seen unfold slowly but surely clawing its way under his skin. That’s the thing about being by Natasha’s side as often as he is. It’s like getting a front row seat to everything that happens to her. Sometimes it’s as joyous as the children at the orphanage she frequents running into her arms the second she drops by for a visit. Other times, like tonight, it’s watching the unfair way she’s treated, and hearing the vile things spewed her way.

His thoughts are interrupted by a touch as light as a feather. He stills, looking forward at the reflection on the brushed metals doors to see that Natasha’s stepped closer to him, her fingers working to unclench his fist.

“Natasha,” he whispers, but whether it’s in warning or relief, he’s unsure. Luckily, he doesn’t have to linger on the question for too long as the elevator dings, signaling their arrival on her floor. He gestures to the doors as they slide open. “After you.”

This isn’t her. The thought rushes through Natasha as she leads Steve down the hall and to her suite. If there is one thing she didn’t do, it’s get involved with the people on her payroll. And that’s what Steve Rogers is – a person paid to keep her safe.

If only that were the whole truth.

In reality, he’s also the person she’s spent the most time with in the last year, his ever looming presence giving her the peace of mind she’s had to go without for longer than she cares to admit. Gone were the days of her looking over her shoulder, of her stomach feeling unsettled over the idea that there were unwanted eyes on her. Not that the scrutiny ever went away, of course. For as long as she can recall, that’s been part of her life. The unintended consequence of her privilege. Now, though, she could rest easy knowing that she also had Steve’s eyes, his sharp, watchful gaze looking out for her.

But it’s not only Steve’s presence that’s allowed her to revel in safety. She was still reeling from her brush with her stalker when her parents had hired Steve, and even with him shadowing her, she knew that if she was ever going to live without fear ever again, she needed to learn to defend herself. To never feel the helplessness she felt that night as that mad man pressed a blade to her skin. Her parents were less than thrilled with the idea (let Steve do his job, her mother had insisted), but much to her surprise, Steve was very much all in. And so began their weekly ritual. Every Wednesday after work, Steve would train her to fight, teaching her all the ways she could protect herself.

If she had to think of the moment she felt her relationship with Steve begin to shift, it was here. Maybe it was the late hour or the exhaustion from the day, but she found that Steve was more willing to let his guard down after those sessions. It’s as they were sitting on the mats, trying to catch their breath between sets at the gym, that she learned all the details about him that she’s grown to admire, like how big an influence his father was in his choice to join the Army. How much he missed his mom. What a little shit he could be with a quip.

Before she really knew it, Steve had become more than just her bodyguard. He had become her sounding board, and she trusted him implicitly – which was more than she could say about some people she called family.

Families were complicated, but hers was a little more so. Their parents had loved them fiercely, of that there was no doubt. But she and her siblings were all cut from different cloths, and after that fateful car crash that had suddenly taken their parents, the very glue that held them together, that couldn’t be more apparent. Those differences were on full display tonight at the first board meeting since their parents’ passing. Weeks of anticipation had ended with the board announcing that they had selected her to be the next CEO, her father’s successor. Her sisters were practically apathetic – Yelena shrugged, and while Antonia rolled her eyes, she said nothing more. Her brothers, though, were incandescent. Helmut had branded her a manipulative snake. But it was John who had the most to say, all but accusing her of sleeping her way into the position. Not that she was the least bit surprised. Of all her siblings, their relationship had always had the most friction. They had been adopted practically at the same time, at the same age, and knowingly or not, were pitted against each other for the same things. So when he had the audacity to level such accusations at her tonight, it hadn’t come as a shock.

What did come as a shock was Steve’s reaction. He was standing by the door of the conference room, but from her periphery, she caught the way his entire demeanor went rigid the second her brothers had voiced their outrage. On the car ride back to her building, he remained silent, only speaking into his ear piece to alert the rest of his team of their impending arrival. Otherwise, he gazed out the windshield pensively, his jaw set. The tension that had found its way to his shoulders had never subsided either, and she’s certain if she looked back at him now, she could still find it in his stance.

She couldn’t lie. The idea of this man, who she had come to know as the very epitome of composure and level-headedness, getting incensed on her behalf… it did things to her. While she prided herself in being a consummate professional, with Steve, she found that to be an arduous task. As anyone with a pulse and a pair of eyes could deduce, with his broad shoulders, strong arms, and blue eyes so intense it made you feel as though you were being swallowed whole by the ocean, Steve Rogers was a specimen. Couple that with the fact that she has never felt safer in someone’s presence than when she’s around his, and well. It’s no wonder that this man has been the star of her filthiest dreams for months.

As they near her door, she reaches for her keys in her coat pocket, letting her mind wander back to Steve’s reaction to her touch in the elevator mere moments ago. She bites her lip as she recalls the way he had said her name, as though he was at odds with himself, trying to keep himself together. She wonders how quick he would be to keep his composure if he knew every which way she has thought of his lips on hers, of his hands on her body, and his weight holding her down.

Lost in her thoughts, she doesn’t realize that her keys have slipped from her grasp until she sees a flash of movement as Steve reaches out in front of her, catching them in his palm. Not that she’s surprised. His eyes are never not on her, watching her, and though she knows he’s just doing his job, secretly, she savors it. When she finally looks up at him, the concern that’s been pooling in his eyes all night has somehow intensified, and she finds herself holding in a breath at their sudden proximity. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she says, but the tightness in his expression tells her he doesn’t quite believe her. She mumbles a thanks as she takes her keys back from him, and as they make it to her door, she waits. If all the nights he’s walked her to this very spot were anything to go by, this is where he leaves her. But as she pushes the key into the lock, he remains rooted in place, and a rush of excitement fills her chest as she opens the door to her suite.

He should turn around now. The idea gnaws away at him even as he nods at Bucky at the opposite end of the hall, officially passing the night shift onto his colleague. But even so, like a moth to a flame, he finds himself following Natasha inside.

“Thank you,” she says as they cross the threshold and he helps her shrug out of her coat. He nods in acknowledgement, stowing it away. “Can I pour you a drink?”

He looks to see that she’s made her way to the living room, glancing at him from over her shoulder as she stands by the credenza, one hand already on the decanter. “I’m still on the clock.”

“That’s what you always say,” she says cheekily, turning her attention back to the crystal before her. It could end here, he tells himself. He could bid her goodnight, turn around, and make his way back home the way he’s done every night. Instead, he pads forward still. “Besides, I saw James out there. As far as I’m concerned, you’re off duty.”

“Is that an order?” he asks as he comes to stand next to her, eyeing the two tumblers she now has in her hands.

The corner of her lips turns up in a sly grin. “It could be.”

He shakes his head, biting back a groan. “Natasha-”

“Please?”

The way she’s looking at him from underneath the fan of her darkened lashes is just not fair. The spark in her eyes is Goliath, and his self-restraint, what little remains of it anyway, is merely David. He sighs in concession. “One drink.”

“One drink,” she parrots, her expression lighting up in victory as she extends the other drink towards him. It wasn’t a secret to him that she’s fond of winning. What is novel is the effervescent feeling that rushes through him knowing he’s letting her, and it’s one he finds he could dangerously get addicted to. They clink glasses before taking a sip, and he relishes the familiar burn of liquor down his throat. “Besides,” she says a beat later, “if a nearly hundred year old scotch can’t turn that frown upside down, what will?” His lips press into a hard line at that, and he watches the way she tilts her head to the side. “Want to tell me what that’s about?”

He wants to. God knows the words have been hanging on the tip of his tongue the entire night, begging to be said. He so desperately wants to tell her that her brothers are low lives. That she deserves better. That it kills him that he couldn’t say or do anything in her defense because not only does she not need him to fight her battles, but also it’s simply not his place. This isn’t a discussion a bodyguard has with his client, which is why he settles for, “Your brothers are a piece of work.”

She hums in agreement. “You knew that, though.”

He did. Her brothers may have never had the audacity to speak to her the way they did tonight when their parents were still around, but the animosity has always been palpable from their backhanded comments to the outright callousness with which they viewed the situation with her stalker, practically ridiculing Natasha for needing round-the-clock security. The latter makes his blood boil – the idea that they think their sister’s safety is something to trivialize, and this time, he isn’t able to hold back. “I should’ve beat John to a pulp.”

The regret sets in the second the words leave his mouth, and he admonishes himself internally. His lips part to apologize, but before he can, Natasha chuckles. “Believe me, he isn’t worth the bruised knuckles or the assault charge.”

“Maybe I’d like to be the judge of that.”

“Such a man,” she says teasingly, taking another sip of her drink.

For the first time since they entered the conference room this evening, he feels his lips lifting into a little smile. If Natasha could find levity in the situation, shrug it off, surely he could, too. And perhaps it’s the liquid courage giving him the audacity to do so, but before he lets the subject go completely, he finds himself finally asking the one question that’s been eating away at him all night. “Natasha, why didn’t you say anything?”

She’s silent for a while, her eyes studying his face. What she’s searching for, he’s unsure. Nevertheless, he holds her gaze, waiting, because none of the events tonight made sense to him. He’s been with her in countless meetings this year, some of which have bordered on incendiary, and while she’s not one to be prone to an outburst, she also doesn’t turn the other cheek the way she did in front of her family tonight.

Eventually, Natasha shrugs. “Because there’s no point.”

“No point?” he asks. “Natasha, I don’t understand.” He’s overstepping now, he knows, but the words slip from his lips just the same. “They shouldn’t be able to speak about you that way! None of what they said is true. The board chose you because you earned it. You submitted the best proposal to take the company forward, not them! And they have the audacity-”

“What choice do I have, Steve?” Natasha interrupts, and for a moment, he can only stand there, frozen, taken aback by her question. As she stares at him, the playful mood she’s been intent on upholding dissipates, and she sighs. “I know none of what my brothers say or think about me is true, but what choice do I have but to take it?”

His brows furrow in confusion. “Natasha, you’re allowed to defend yourself.”

“I wish that were true,” she says, smiling ruefully. “I want this job because I care about continuing my parents’ legacy. But the board?” The resentment in her tone is clear as day she adds, “all they care about is making it seem like there was a clear succession plan so our stock price doesn’t dip.” Her shoulders lift as she scoffs. “If I react… If I so much as show them that my brothers get under my skin, I’m too emotional. Too soft to run this company. But if I respond in kind… I’m a bitch that’ll run it to the ground out of spite.” She shakes her head. “Much as I’d like to wipe that smug look off John’s face, I have to play the long game.”

“Natasha…” he says, placing his drink down on the credenza. He’s been so lost in his anger tonight that he forgot, momentarily, that the stakes are, and have always been, different for her. It wasn’t fair, but the bar for her has always been higher, the fall from the top always steeper. It’s why she’s careful to keep as much of her private life out of the press. Why she meticulously plans her every move, demanding perfection of herself even as her siblings – her brothers, especially – are given seemingly endless leeway for their transgressions. He steps closer to her, putting a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how exhausting it must be.”

Her eyes go from the hand he has on her arm to his face. “It is,” she says, agreeing to the sentiment without any specifics. Somehow, that pulls even more at his heart strings. Because it’s all of it, all the time, he realizes.

He sighs. “I wish-”

He doesn’t get to finish his thought as she pushes on the tips of her toes, pressing her lips to his. The kiss is soft, sweet, tender. She pulls away a moment too soon, but not soon enough for him not to catch a taste of the heady mix that’s her lipstick, the scotch, and something uniquely Natasha.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha says a beat later when the silence between them lingers. “I thought-”

A growl rips from the back of his throat, and before he can stop himself, his hands come up to cup her face as he pulls her into a searing kiss. The tumbler in hand falls from her grasp, hitting the ground and shattering into a million pieces by their feet, but neither of them pay it any mind as he backs them towards the nearest wall.

“I want you,” he confesses, exhaling deeply as he leans his forehead against hers, “so much I can barely think straight. Barely breathe.”

Her hands wrap around him, pulling him closer. “It’s the same for me.”

“Fuck,” the curse falls unbidden from his lips as he hears her confirm their mutual longing. As absurd as it seems at this moment, he could still put a stop to all this. They’re both toeing the line, but with one step back, he still could pull them away from it. Go back to what they were, what they ought to be. Client and bodyguard. Business associates. Friends. He could tell himself that what they’re doing is wrong, verboten. But as he looks down at her, he finds that he can’t. He doesn’t want to. Because there is nothing, absolutely nothing, that feels wrong about having Natasha Romanoff in his arms. Whatever line there is, he’s sprinting well and truly past it.

“What do you want me to do, Nat?” There’s a part of him that already knows the answer. Even so, he wants – needs – to hear her say it.

Her eyes twinkle, and her response is the gush of wind that sends the house of cards that’s his restraint crumbling. “Kiss me.”

With that, he finds her lips again, kissing her passionately as if one kiss could make up for months and months of not having her. He doesn’t hold back, and based on the way she gasps, her hands finding purchase on his arms, squeezing tightly, he suspects that she doesn’t want him to. It’s when he takes her hands, pinning them above her head with his own as his lips find their way down to her neck that she cries out, voicing her approval when he pushes his pelvis flush against her, letting her feel the effect she has on him.

“Been wanting this for so long,” she says, and when he looks back up at her, her eyes are dazed as she tries to catch her breath.

He lowers one hand to her face, running his thumb over her cheek as he, too, forces air into his lungs. “Yeah?”

She nods, swallowing hard. “Every night when you go home, I keep thinking you’ll come back. Bring me to bed.”

His hands slide down to her waist, digging into the silk of her dress. “Then what do I do, Nat?”

“You take me hard and dirty,” she says without an ounce of hesitation. “So much that every time I move, all I can think about is you.”

He groans her name, stealing the breath right out of her lungs with another bruising kiss. “You’re all I think about when I come home, too.” He trails his lips up her jaw, to the shell of her ear to whisper, “I spread you out on my bed, kiss every inch of your skin until you’re begging me to let you come.” His words elicit a moan from her, and he feels her nails dig into his biceps through the material of his button up. “I’ll take you any way you want me to, Nat. Hard, dirty, rough… All you have to do is tell me.”

She shudders in his hold, and he pulls away just enough to see her expression drunk with unadulterated lust. There’s a mischievous glint in her eye as she contemplates the possibilities. “I don’t want to think. I just want to feel.” She brings her arms up, wrapping it around his neck. “Tell me how I want to be fucked, Steve.”

Months of wanting, months of wondering… They’ve all led to this very moment, and as she looks out into the expanse of the room, illuminated only by the glow of the skyline filtering in from the panel of floor-to-ceiling windows right across, she feels her heart race in anticipation.

“Quite the view you’ve chosen here,” she says, her voice sounding breathier than usual even to her own ears. She wasn’t sure where they were headed when Steve had scooped her up into his arms, and in all honesty, she didn’t quite care. But the second he had crossed the hall into her office, it’s as if a fresh wave of desire shot straight through her veins.

“Hadn’t noticed,” Steve says from where he stands behind her, crowding her against the desk. His hands find the thin straps of her dress, and she can’t help the shiver that runs down her spine when he pushes them off her shoulders.

“Why are we here, Steve?” she finds herself asking, sucking in a breath as he begins to pull on her zipper. As it reaches the end, the garment slinks down her body, the material shimmering in the dark in a pool by her feet. He mutters a curse under his breath, and feeling emboldened, she turns around. The first thing she notices is that he’s shed his suit jacket, draped it on the back of her chair, but she can only glance at it fleetingly because the second she looks at his face, her stomach flutters. His typically bright eyes have gone dark, the hunger evident in them as he takes in the sight of her standing before him in nothing but a lacy black thong and heels. “You know, if you keep staring at me like that, I’m going to start feeling a tad obscene.”

“You don’t stare at a work of art,” he counters. “You admire it.” Heat rushes to her cheeks, and inwardly, she marvels at the irony. Here she is, standing before this man in nearly nothing, and somehow, it’s his words that have her blushing. She bites back a smile, trying to busy herself by stepping out of her heels when she feels his fingers encircle her wrist. There’s a devious glint in his eyes when she looks up. “Leave them on.”

She arches a brow in intrigue, but doesn’t question the request. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

The grin that creeps onto his lips is trouble personified, and she finds herself holding her breath as he steps forward, erasing what little distance was left between them. “You told me to tell you how you want to be fucked,” he says, reaching for her waist and making her gasp as he hoists her up onto her desk as if she weighs nothing. He nudges her knees apart, standing between her legs and whispering down into her ear. “You want it hard, Nat.” She bites her lip, goosebumps prickling her skin as his breath dances across it, and she’s so entranced by his words that she doesn’t even realize he’s pulled on the pin of her bun until it comes loose at the base of her neck, her hair cascading down her back like a crimson waterfall. “You want it so rough you’ll feel me for days.” Her eyes fall shut when he leans down to press a kiss to her pulse, and as his other hand trails up, cupping her breast and making her nipple pebble underneath his ministrations, she can only throw her head back. “And I think you might even want it to hurt a little.”

He tugs on her nipple, making her gasp, and instantly, she feels herself grow wetter between her legs. “God, yes.”

“Is that what you want?”

She leans further into his touch. “That’s exactly what I want.”

He smiles against her skin. “And that’s what you’ll get,” he promises. “But first, I think you want me to spread you out on this desk…” He pulls away enough to look at her, tucking a tendril of hair behind her ear with his free hand. The gesture is so tender, the complete and polar opposite of what he’s promising to do to her right now, that it makes her head spin. “Eat you out right where you spend your days telling people what to do, making all those important decisions… Tease you with my mouth until you’re out of your mind.” She sucks in a gasp. “How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” she manages to heave out. “That sounds perfect.”

“Then lean back, Nat.”

She does as commanded, moving her palms behind her and watching him take a step back, his eyes never once breaking contact with hers while unbuttons the cuffs on his shirt. As he rolls his sleeves up his forearms, it occurs to her that while she’s all but laid out bare before him, he’s still fully dressed. But even with this imbalance, something about the way his licentious gaze trails up her body, taking her in, makes her feel desired in a way she’s never felt before.

It’s when he slides a hand down the flat of her belly, reaching the lace of her thong and ripping the delicate material away with one flick of his wrist that she feels her sex pulse. “Oh, God.”

“Do you know what it does to me?” he asks as he settles down on her chair. “Knowing that I’ve seen you at this desk, taking all those meetings… Making all those calls.” He hikes her legs up, setting her heels at the edge of her desk and licking his lips at the sight of her arousal glistening between her thighs. “In these shoes.” When he dusts a kiss just above where the strap rests on her ankle, the soft hair of his beard brushing against her skin, she can only whimper knowing his mouth is so close yet still so far from where she’s aching to feel him. “And now here you are, so wet for me…” He brushes a finger teasingly at her entrance, her vision blurring when she hears him groan. “Aching to be touched.”

There’s a part of her that wishes he would tell her. Tell her every single detail of the effect she has on him, to know that he’s as desperate for her touch as she is for his. But then he’s pushing in, her body taking him without any resistance. “Steve,” she whines, her gaze falling between her legs, watching every movement of his hand. For a moment, it’s as though she can’t breathe, too lost in her own pleasure and too mesmerized by seeing everything as it happens to her. Her hips cant upwards when he adds another finger. “Oh.”

He looks up at her, and his voice is tight as he speaks, as though he’s feeling just as inebriated with desire as she is right now. “Good, baby?”

When she mewls out another yes, he dips his head between her legs, his lips grazing her heat, and with his hands and mouth working her in tandem, she falls back on the desk, her arms no longer able to hold her up. Her hands fly to his hair, pulling, needing something, anything, to keep her from drowning in this ecstasy. She’s so turned on beyond words, that when he licks a broad stripe up her center, all she can do is cry out his name. Of all the nights she had fantasized about this, none of them could hold a candle to the pleasure she feels right now. The way he teases her, licking tantalizingly at her folds and sucking at her bundle of nerves until she’s just there, only to pull away before she crests… It’s deliriously good, a high she’s fast becoming hooked on.

“You look so good like this, Nat,” Steve says, easing his mouth off her to press a kiss to the inside of her thigh even as he continues to work her with his fingers. “Look at you, just begging to fall apart.”

“Steve,” she begins to say, only for her words to be replaced by a moan when he nips at the flesh of her inner thigh, the little sting of pain making her back bow off the mahogany. “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Come for me, Nat,” he says, bringing his mouth back to her center, his lips finding her bundle of nerves. She arches against his face, seeking out more contact, more everything, and as white-hot pleasure permeates throughout her every nerve ending, she finds exactly what she’s been craving. All of her worries, her laundry list of things to do… they all fade into nothing, and all she can think about is the heat unfurling low in her stomach, building. Rising.

“No!” She whimpers when Steve pulls his fingers out, tears nearly stinging her eyes as her walls flutter around nothing. Vaguely, she’s aware of him shushing her gently, of his hand moving lower, and then even lower still. “Oh, my God,” she gasps when she feels his finger at her other entrance, teasing. She tenses – unsure of how far he’ll take this, how far she’ll let him. But before she can give it more thought, her body answers for her, a long, needy moan escaping from her lips as his tongue flicks at her clit and his finger presses in. And then her body is trembling, her orgasm washing over her like waves crashing violently to shore.

She’s not sure how long she revels in bliss. Seconds, maybe, but with the intensity of the aftershocks, it feels like an eternity. It takes her a moment, but eventually, she recognizes the telltale sound of a zipper being pulled. Her eyes flutter open, and with what strength she still has, she sits up just as Steve brings a hand to his length, stroking.

Her mouth falls open, and despite the earth-shattering climax he’s just wringed out of her, she feels her nipples already tightening at the sight before her. She’s not entirely certain how her body could still crave more, but as she watches Steve’s hand shuttle up and down his hardness, his gaze trained on her and only her, it does. The scene playing out before her feels like a cut straight out of her dirtiest fantasy, and she couldn’t look away if she tried.

It’s when Steve’s hand slows at the head, his thumb gathering the bead of liquid, that their eyes meet. He’s always been adept at anticipating her needs, and when it comes to her base desires, it seems it’s no different. He brings his thumb to her mouth, slowly sliding his arousal over her lip, and as the salty taste of him hits her tongue, she moans, taking his hand between both of hers and drawing him all the way in.

“Christ, Nat,” Steve says, groaning when she nips at the skin of his thumb only to soothe it over with her tongue, sucking. She’s lost count of the number of nights she’s spent wondering what he tastes like, and now that she knows, she's ravenous with how much she wants more. With a pained groan, Steve pulls his hand away, his lips finding hers before she can so much as blink. The kiss is intoxicating – tasting of her, of him, of them. By the time they separate, she’s practically writhing, the heat between her legs once again unbearable. “Going to bend you over this desk now.”

With a smile, she slides off, stands, and turns. Behind her, she can hear the tearing of foil as he pulls out a condom and rolls it on, and then his hand is between her shoulder blades, pushing her down. She rests her cheek against the wood, and as he presses against her entrance, she cries out in need. In need of the rightness of this very moment. The covetousness. The tabooness of them, together, as Steve widens her stance, spreads her open, and sinks right into her in a single thrust. Her name falls from his lips, his tone gravelly. Intoxicated. She feels it just the same, her nails scratching at the wood as he bottoms out.

Steve curls his body over hers, and as he sets a rhythm with his hips that’s as delectable as it is punishing, she lets her eyes fall shut, the glow of Manhattan below them disappearing as she loses herself in the sensation. The sensation of finally having the man she’s been fantasizing over, of him buried deep inside of her, of him letting her indulge in her wildest desires right in her office, not a single soul knowing what they’re up to.

His lips pepper every inch of her skin that he can find, every kiss like another one of their dirty little secrets that she’ll keep. He’s not the least bit gentle, and when he slides his hands around her, cupping her breasts, she yelps when he pinches at her nipples.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says, because even when he’s doing exactly as she’s asked, she knows him, knows he could never live with himself if he hurt her.

“It’s not,” she assures him, letting out another whimper when he repeats the motion and she basks in the sharp tingle that follows. “It’s so good. So fucking good.”

Her moans fall freely now, if not a little muffled by the desk, but she couldn't care less. As she tethers between pain and pleasure, pleasure and pain, the seesaw of sensations is like gasoline slowly but surely dripping into the fire of her lust.

“What do you need, Nat?” Steve asks not a moment too soon, sensing her longing before she does in that uncanny way only he can.

She wishes she knew. She can feel the pleasure coiling at her spine, threatening to burst over her, and yet it’s as though she’s searching for that little extra spark to set her ablaze – a spark that she hadn’t even known she wanted, much less needed, until Steve had shown her tonight. As the frustration of tethering on the edge begins to set in, she whimpers. “Steve,” she breathes out, moaning at a particularly delicious thrust of his hips. “More.”

In her haze, she doesn’t quite catch what Steve murmurs in response, feeling only the kiss he presses to her cheek as his hands let go of her breasts, traveling down her sides, until they’re past her waist.

“Ah!” she cries out when his palm collides with her backside, the sound reverberating across the room. The burn dissolves into pleasure, and she keens. “Again,” she says, hearing Steve growl in response, hips driving deeper into her as he raises his palm and swats her once more. “Oh, just like that.”

He obliges her request, once, twice. And then another time, until soon, all the sensations brew into one outrageous storm, and as Steve reaches around her and down to where they’re joined, circling her bundle of nerves, it breaks. With a litany of incoherent sounds falling from her mouth, she falls apart, taking Steve right down the edge with her.

Just once. That’s what he had told himself when he decided to throw caution to the wind and kiss Natasha senseless. When he slipped that dress off her body, hoisted her up on that desk. One time to get her out of his system. One time to make him stop wondering.

But now that he knows what it’s like to have her in his arms, knows what she sounds like just as she’s on the brink of falling apart, he doesn’t think he can ever get enough.

He should leave, put as much distance between him and the temptation that is Natasha Romanoff. But as he pulls his pants up and disposes of the condom, he finds that he can’t just yet. “Come on, gorgeous,” he says as he lifts her into his arms, mindful of her pinkened skin. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

A sated sigh slips from her lips as she settles against his chest. He pads out of her office, making his way to the other side of her suite enroute to her bedroom and right into the ensuite bathroom. When he reaches the large soaking tub, he sets her on the ledge, watching as she winces. He frowns. “I told you to tell me if it was too much.”

“It wasn’t,” she says firmly as he turns on the tap, adjusting the temperature. She leans forward, running her hand under the running water. A smile breaks out on her face. “Just how I like it.”

“I know.”

“I’m not going to lie,” she says, yawning. “I think I might just doze off.”

“I’ll turn this off,” he says, already reaching to shut the water. “The last thing we want is for you to drown in your own tub.”

“No!” she says, her lower lip jutting out in a pout, effectively stopping him in his tracks. “You know I can’t turn down a good bubble bath.”

“That I also know,” he says softly, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He shouldn’t feel such joy at knowing these things about her. In fact, he shouldn’t even have all these little details in his brain, like the fact that she loves daisies and that her guilty pleasure is watermelon-flavored Sour Patch Kids, so much so that she always keeps an emergency stash of them in the bottom drawer of her desk. Or the fact that she got her love of candy from her mom, who would always have a pack in her bag ready for them to share. It’s also why she makes sure to carry some with her when she goes to visit the kids, sneaking them treats even though she knows the staff at the orphanage frowns upon the sugary delights.

But that was Natasha. Ever caring, ever kind-hearted. Always trying to do good with the privilege bestowed upon her.

There isn’t a goddamn thing that he doesn’t like about this woman, he realizes. Mind, soul, and now body – it attracts him all.

Which is why he shouldn’t be privy to all these things about her. None of it has to do with him doing his job. With keeping her safe.

He has to leave.

“Steve.” Natasha’s voice breaks him out of his reverie, and when he looks at her, he finds her brows furrowed in concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“All good,” he assures her. He wishes he could give her more than a few words, but he doesn’t trust himself not to crack open now, to confess to her that the absolute last thing he wants to do is leave.

“Well, then…” she begins, a sheepish expression suddenly painting her features. “Do you mind stepping out for a bit while I use the little girl’s room?” Despite his thoughts being at war, he finds that he can’t help but chuckle at her request. She gasps, shoving his arm even as she tries desperately not to crack a smile. “Don’t laugh! Everyone pees.”

“Really? I never knew,” he quips, prompting her to roll her eyes.

“You just fucked me into oblivion,” she adds. “Peeing is not optional.”

He arches a brow at her. “You’ll say things like that, but God forbid I watch you pee?”

“A little mystery never killed anybody.”

He shakes his head. “I can just go.”

“No,” she says, reaching out to catch his arm again. “I only need a minute.” She looks up at him, eyes wide. “Come back, please.”

He’s not sure if it’s the please she added at the end of her request or the vulnerability in her eyes as she said it, but either way, it renders any thoughts he had of walking out of her front door right now moot. With a nod, he makes his way out of her bathroom, leaving the door just ajar.

As he waits, he paces her bedroom, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. He stops by her windowsill, looking out into the glimmering city. Below, he finds the crowds still bustling, going about their night, the image only serving to highlight his current solitude. Here he is, standing atop one of the tallest skyscrapers in town, alone in the bedroom of the woman he’s just slept with. A woman who also happens to be his client, his assignment. A woman he had no business touching, much less having.

He leans his forehead against the glass, sighing. It’s when he finds himself at a crossroads like this that he truly missed his mom the most. What he would give to be able to pick up the phone and give her a ring again. But even though that’s no longer a possibility, he still knows what she would tell him – the only answer she deemed right and universal to every predicament.

When in doubt, do the right thing.

Guilt washes over him from the top of his head down to his toes. If there’s one thing that’s crystallized for him tonight, it’s that being with Natasha impaired his judgment, and that’s just not something he could afford, given his job. The very same job that not only requires him to make decisions on the fly, but that also demands that he make the right ones. Mistakes didn’t come cheap in his field. At best, they led to injury. At worst, they were fatal. The last thought brings a chill down his spine, and he reminds himself of the file he has in his office, the very same file Alexei had brought to him way back when, filled with stolen pictures of Natasha that the maniac had coveted, and letters that he had written to her. The endless reports that detailed every which way that poor excuse of a human being used to subvert security. He reminds himself that if not for that one detective who had gotten there in time, he may never have gotten the chance to meet Natasha.

He implores himself to remember all of that. To sear into his memory what was at stake if he chooses to be selfish right now, and what the consequences could be. With that, he moves away from the window, rapping softly on the frame of the open door.

“All clear!”

Given the clearance, he walks in, and the sight that greets him has him cursing under his breath for the umpteenth time this evening. In the tub, Natasha sits surrounded by bubbles, her hair piled high up in a bun.

“Hi,” she says, her tone soft and her face all but glowing. She pats the space he had set her down on not long ago. “Come sit.” His only response is to nod, making his way over to her to perch on the marble ledge. “We should talk.”

“We should,” he says, resisting the urge to push the strands of hair that have fallen loose from her bun away from her face.

“I can tell you’re wound up, Steve,” she says.

His lips quirk up slightly. “Isn’t that what I usually tell you?”

She cracks a smile, but it lasts but a second as she reaches for his hand. “You regret this.”

“What? Natasha, no,” he says, shaking his head. “Never. Don’t you ever think that.”

She bites her lip. “Really?”

“Of course,” he says without skipping a beat, his hand reaching to cup her face. “Being with you was a dream come true.”

She sighs, relief washing over her face as she leans into his touch. “It was a dream come true for me, too.”

“It was incredible,” he adds, swallowing the tightness that’s suddenly formed in his throat. “I could never regret it.” He sighs, dreading his next words. But he has to say them. Has to be honest. “But, Nat, it can’t happen again.” The sadness that fills her eyes is a dagger straight to his heart, but he soldiers on. Do the right thing, he reminds himself. “My head isn’t clear when I’m with you, and I need it to be in order to do my job. I can’t let anything happen to you.”

“You would never let anything happen to me.”

The way she says it, with so much trust and certainty, floors him. And it’s this, the amount of faith she has in him and in his ability to keep her out of harm’s way, that gives him the strength to remain steadfast. “And it’s going to stay that way,” he promises. “You haven’t a clue what it would do to me if something happened to you.”

“Tell me,” she says, eyes imploring.

He shakes his head, his mind refusing to entertain the possibility. “It’s not going to happen.”

She reaches for the hand he has on her face, clasping it between her own. “Having you by my side this last year… I’ve never felt safer.”

“Good,” he says, allowing his lips to pull up in a little smile. “I’m glad.”

Easily, if not a little too easily, they slip into conversation as if it’s the end of just another night for them at the gym. She talks about the plans she’s made for the upcoming bachelor party of her best friend, and they both laugh at how ridiculous some of the decorations she’s ordered are going to turn out. In turn, he gives her his assessment of what he thinks is blooming between the doorman and the receptionist in her building.

“You suspected there was something going on between those two and you’re only telling me now?” she says, narrowing her eyes at him. “You know I’ve been trying to play matchmaker for weeks!”

“I needed to make sure my intel was- hey!” he exclaims, barely dodging the water she splashes his way. As she sticks her tongue out at him, he glares at her witheringly.

“Serves you right for withholding information,” she says, only to gasp when he suddenly retaliates. “Rogers!”

The image of her cheek and shoulder marred by bubbles causes him to burst out in laughter. “I’m sorry!” he says, and despite her best effort, she too begins laughing. “Here, let me help you.”

“You better,” she mutters, and he rolls his lips to prevent another laugh from slipping.

He reaches forward, gingerly wiping away the suds from her cheek with the back of his hand, doing the same with the ones on her shoulder. “Your skin is so soft.”

“It’s all the bath oils,” she says, taking his hand. “You should try them sometime.” She scoops some water into her palm to pour it over his, massaging his fingers. “Or, better yet… you could come join me.”

As she looks at him, she bites her lip, and he can only groan. “You, Natasha Romanoff, are trouble.” Her only response is to shrug, and it takes every bit of restraint he has left in his body to not lean in and kiss that little smirk off her lips. Focus. “That… person. He could have easily harmed you, and all he got was a measly six months of jail time.”

“And he hasn’t sniffed this place since,” she points out. “You’re exceptional at your job, Steve. As is your team. I haven’t even gotten so much as a suspicious letter.”

“And that’s how it’s going to remain,” he says, adamant.

She huffs out a breath that’s long and winded. “You’re really not going to touch me again, are you?”

He shakes his head no, smiling sadly as his response elicits another disappointed sigh from her. He lifts their joined hands, bringing it up to press a kiss to the back of hers. “But know, in my dreams, I have you every night.” She throws her head back, groaning, and he chuckles. “I should go.”

“Yeah,” she says, tilting her head playfully to the side. “You keep saying that.”

He grins. “Can I get you a towel?”

“Please.”

He stands to retrieve a towel from the rack, grabbing the fluffiest one, and when he returns to her, he finds that smile playing on her lips again. “What?”

“Well, if you’re going to leave, I guess you better turn around.”

It shouldn’t be that hard to do. But when all he wants is to wrap this towel around her, pull her in, and carry her to bed, the effort feels Herculean. He chuckles, setting the cloth down by the ledge before making his way out. “Goodnight, Natasha.”

“Goodnight, Steve,” she says, and though he couldn’t see her face, the amusement in her tone is all the confirmation he needs to know that she hasn’t wiped that smirk off her face. “See you tomorrow.”

Read Part 2: Blinding Lights here

#Romanogers #So It Goes... #natrogers #Steve Rogers #Natasha Romanoff #Bodyguard AU

[wanderingaldecaldo]

I've been posting Ros and Val without any context or backstory because my brain has been going brrrrrrrr too much to write anything proper besides drabbles, and a couple of unrelated oneshots. I'm still figuring out their story but I've discovered some of the major beats and wanted to get it down for my future self, as well as anyone who's following along at home.

Their story follows PL fairly closely with a few places where I took some creative license. Val and Ros hook up at the safe house, and it takes Reed a little longer to get everything organized, giving them a few days together in Dogtown before Ros is spirited back to D.C.

Lemme just wipe off your cheek real quick...

Val needs family. She doesn't know it, but that's why she gravitated to Jackie and Lupe. It's why she calls Panam for help in her canon. Rosalind represents family in a different way. She's the mother who knows what's best, who cares about "her" people, and Val doesn't realize how much she needs that attachment. Several times during the rescue, Ros displays affection and concern for her—when the building collapses before the Chimera fight, during the Relic malfunction—and combined with the mission to keep her safe, it triggers something deep inside V, a loyalty that she doesn't understand.

Rosalind, on the other hand, just lost a lot of crucial advisors. While we don't know who was on board aside from So Mi, we can guess that there were high ranking staffers, such as communications, security, and campaign, plus her own personal assistant and Secret Service agent. She has no one. She is vulnerable with V, admitting that she doesn't know what to do, that she has no one; and V's response is to remind her that she's there, and she's determined to get her out of the situation. Loyalty is something Ros values highly, and here is this merc tasked with saving her, but who sees the situation as more than just another gig; who has become personally invested in protecting her. It's intoxicating to have someone who's unflinchingly loyal to you, and who has seen the real you.

Once they reach the safe house, things escalate because of the mix of all those emotions, plus all the adrenaline and endorphins from the escape. It becomes more than just a hookup, but because of their situations (Ros's, let's be real), they both know it's an untenable relationship. Their time is bittersweet because of that knowledge.

Just squint a little and the Dogtown apartment isn't that bad!

Continued after the cut...

Later after the events of PL, they stay in touch, and there is affection between them still. Ros reaches out by text for fashion advice on the magazine shoot. They both agree that V isn't the right person for the job, but Ros knows she'll at least be honest. Later the acting campaign manager thinks having Ros take photos with the merc who saved her life in Dogtown would be good ad material, so Ros recruits V to the photo shoot.

Note: add at least one eagle for the "real" patriots

V uses the photo shoot to her advantage and successfully lobbies for the dinner date Rosalind promised. They have it that evening at Embers, as it's easy to secure for VIPs. Ros wants to know what V expects, because surely she can't think there is hope for a real relationship; but V wants whatever she can have. At this point, she knows she's crazy about Rosalind, while Ros is in denial herself over how much she cares about V.

“Where do you think this will go, V?” Rosalind's voice is soft and melodic. She doesn’t know, doesn’t care. She needs something, will take anything. “Hopin’ the first stop is my bedroom,” V says and gives her cockiest grin, but it quickly fades. “After that? Kinda up to you, yeah?”

They spend the night together and Ros decides to give it a try. They officially start seeing each other, but in secret and only when Ros has reason to visit NC. The new mayor provides a good excuse, so Ros visits under cover of extending diplomatic ties, and providing an opportunity for date night with her merc.

It's good to have powerful friends, like the new mayor of Night City.

After a few months of this, they slip up and the media catch wind that the President is spending time with the merc who saved her life in Dogtown. The campaign manager wants to use the media frenzy by spinning it as Rosalind recruiting V as her personal bodyguard, while still encouraging theories about their secret romantic relationship so the screamsheets will go crazy over it.

Eventually people are gonna notice when AF1 keeps showing up in NC airspace.

At that point V is ready to upend her life for Ros. She agrees to the plan and moves to D.C. The media eats it all up, and suddenly the only thing the NUS cares about is whether the President and her merc are fucking (they are). Eventually they transition to openly dating, and the President's approval rating shoots up by having a partner who humanizes her and makes her more likeable.

#rosalind myers #president rosalind myers #madam president #valerie vermilion #streetkid!val #myers x v #myers x fem v #milfguard #aka president's merc au #wlw ship #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 photomode #cp2077edit #cyberpunk photomode #videogame photography #my screens #cyberpunk 2077 phantom liberty #phantom liberty #phantom liberty spoilers #shippy sunday #shippy everyday #hands #val lore #streetkid val things #rosalind thoughts #the one of her scar while val is kissing her hand 🥴 #but also them on the dirty mattress 🥺 #���️💙 #long post #myers for president 2078

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Wake Me Up Before You Go Go

Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia x Reader

Description: Mickey Garcia has always had dance in his soul. It shocked everyone he knew when he didn't follow the music and dance in his soul for a career. Instead he became a Naval Aviator - a Weapons Systems Officer, in fact, and didn't regret that decision even once. Some part of him knew that he would find his dance partner one day. After the Uranium Mission, the restlessness in his soul lead to Mickey going dancing, and that's where he'd found you. At first things between the two of you were just fun. But what happens when Mickey wants more? Can he convince you just how good the two of you could be dancing in step for the rest of your lives? Disclaimer: Female!Reader Word Count: 2947 Author’s Note: Hiya! I wrote this fic as yet another installment for @roosterforme's Top Gun Rocktober Event. This time, it's based on the song Wake Me Up (Before You Go Go) by Wham! This is my first official oneshot for Fanboy and I really love it! I hope you all do too! All of the bold and italicized parts are lyrics from the song! My Masterlist

Miguel Garcia has always had a dancer’s heart. Growing up in Miami, Florida, he’s been surrounded by music since the day he was born in an inner-city hospital to two people with pure music in their souls. If you asked either of his parents, they’d have thought he’d grow up to be a Merengue, Cumbia, or Salsa dancer. Instead, Miguel chose to join the Navy. When he was so serious, so sure of the decision, who were they to stop him? He’d worked incredibly hard to climb the ranks, but he’d never lost the rhythm in his heart. What was harder to find was the girl who dances in a complimentary rhythm to his own. 

It hasn’t helped either that he’s been deployed around the world for most of his career. It has been an incredibly fulfilling life, but a solitary one. Sure he has Reuben, who Mickey can unequivocally class as both a best friend and a brother, but it's not the same. A part of him has always wanted the kind of love his parents share, the kind of love he'd grown up with. The Uranium mission had seemed like the turning point in his career. The admiralty had formed a new squadron, electing to keep the Daggers together, and he was (he is) happy to have a permanent place to call home. It had finally felt like he had a family again. But something was still missing - someone was still missing.

He'd started up his old habits from his youth once more. Weekend after weekend he'd hit the dance clubs of San Diego, dancing with everybody who wanted to, until the nervous thrum in his veins had quieted once more. That was the only way he’d been able to fall asleep with the new monotony his life had taken. It had been one such night after a terribly boring week when he saw you for the first time. You were laughing and carefree, each elegant movement looking like poetry on the dance floor of the small salsa bar. It was the first time all night he’d felt the incessant energy thrumming under his skin grow quiet. 

"Hi, can I cut in?" He'd asked.

"Sure," You'd giggled. The minute you put your hand in his, he'd been lost to the music in your eyes and the rhythm of your soul. You'd felt like sin under his fingertips and your smile had been brighter than the sun. Mickey had not wanted to let go of you all night.

That rhythm had translated into what was the best sex of his life in the months following your serendipitous meeting. But night after night he always woke up in his simple, shitty little base apartment to the sight of you slipping out of the door like you'd never been in his bed to begin with. Just like that, too, he'd stay awake an hour longer to see your posts on social media about dancing in the Gaslamp Quarter. And every night he'd fall back to sleep wishing that one day soon your heart would beat to the same rhythm as his own. He'd known you'd wanted something light, "Just fucking, just for fun", you'd murmured in your musical voice that first night. And just fucking, just for fun was where he'd stayed.

Mickey isn’t sure when it happened, but you've been haunting his every thought. He only needs to blink and he can see your smile, your sparkling eyes, and everything about you in technicolor swimming in front of his eyes. All of a sudden, your arrangement isn’t enough. He wants to dance through life with you, not just waltz you into his bed every few nights. It’s no lie that work keeps you busy, just like the Navy keeps him. He knows you love it, dancing by night and during the day writing reviews of the places you danced at for one of San Diego's travel websites. But Mickey can't help wanting more of you.

Even when he's supposed to be flying, he's only thinking of you. His inattention could cause him to make some serious mistakes, but he can’t stop. The one time he’d mentioned it to Payback, he’d regretted it too. Reuben was no help. His advice had been, "Just tell her how you feel. Then you can woo her!"

Well, Reuben may know exactly what to say to Emily, his wife, but Mickey still has no idea what to say to you. Or when, to be honest. You're barely around for more than a few hours at a time. And when you are, your pretty mouth is too occupied to do much talking.

After months of trying and failing to tell you how he feels, Mickey's decided he has to take matters into his own hands and track you down at one of these clubs. He has to dance with you, take advantage of the close proximity and your body pressed against his to tell you the truth. But he has no idea what your schedule is. So Mickey does what he does best, analyzes all of the facts. If he can do it in the back of a jet, he can track you down, right? The first thing he does is call your best friend.

"Hey, Maria. Do you have any idea what Angel's doing this weekend?" Her response had been vague at best, something about a themed dance night at one of the clubs in the city. Okay, it's a start. But it's October. Nearly every dance club in the city is throwing themed dance nights Friday through Sunday. That's not going to help much. 

You'd mentioned something to him a couple of nights ago, about reviewing the theme night happening at one of the newest clubs in town. It was one of the few words of pillow talk he actually remembered before your mouth was doing wicked things that made his heart rate skyrocket. Now if only he could remember what kind of theme night. Not hip hop, funk, or soul. It could've been a kpop night, but you'd mentioned something about lycra? What the hell does lycra have to do with dance? Before he can update his list, his phone gets snatched right out of his hands. It's Hangman, because of course it is, and the nosey fucker's already looking into Mickey's phone like it's his god-given right to do so.

"Well, well, well, Fanboy. You like going dancing on weekends? Picking up the ladies?" The glare Mickey levels at the obnoxious blond could have been powerful enough to set him up in flames. 

"Can I have my phone back, please, Bagman?" But Hangman just keeps scrolling, quite gleefully ignoring his pleas.

"Nah. This is too interesting." He squints at the screen. "What do dancing and lycra have to do with each other?"

"I wish I knew. My girlfriend, I guess, mentioned going to one of these Halloween theme dance nights this weekend. And she mentioned something about lycra and one of the places she's going this weekend." Mickey should not be grateful to have his phone back, not when Jake just slumps down on the sofa and starts brainstorming out loud. Most of his suggestions are frankly ludicrous and the longer Mickey hears him talk the more his head pounds. 

By the time training is over for the day, every single Dagger knows and has contributed their two cents. Mickey's more than exhausted and all he wants is his Angel, but you're not there. But as it stands, there is a monster in his stomach growling loudly and he’s covered in sweat. So into the locker room he goes, praying that the guys have something, anything to talk about other than his Angel search. 

Of course the minute he walks into the locker room he’s bombarded with even more suggestions. At that moment, Mickey has to remind himself that he likes these people. They may be pains in his ass but he likes them.

"Aww, c'mon Fanboy! This is your girl we're talking about. So what's she like in bed? She has to be a bombshell in and out of bed to keep your attention." Mickey's not quite sure what to say to Jake's comment because you are. He calls you his Angel for a reason after all. But he's never once indulged in locker room shop talk and he isn't going to now. Not when he's not even sure how you feel about him and everything.

So he just shrugs and turns on the shower. With the hot water pounding down around him the tight band of pressure across his temples eases. It helps that Hangman has finally, finally shut up about Angel's weekend plans, too.

But it feels like it's nearly too good to be true. Because the squadron is at the Hard Deck later that night, and Mickey gets cornered by Natasha and Bob.

"So, Fanboy." Bob's smiling good naturedly as he pushes a soda towards Mickey. "What's your girlfriend like? The other guys probably just want the dirty details but you look happy, man. I'd love to know more about her if you'd like to tell me about her? Nix and I both would."

Under their gentle smiles and easy demeanors it's almost too easy to state all of the ways Mickey adores you. He probably sounds like a broken, stuck record, prattling on and on about your soft hair, sweet smile and your big brain. He even pulls up one of your reviews to share and oh. Oh. He's in love with you. But he’s not sure how he’s going to tell you, not at all.

“Okay, you obviously love this girl.” Mickey can only nod at Natasha’s fondly amused tone. “So why aren’t you tracking her down to tell her so?”

For the first time in weeks, an idea starts to crystallize in his mind. “Would you guys be able to help me find her? She’s supposed to be reviewing one of the Halloween theme nights this weekend. But all Angel told me is something involving lycra.”

"Maybe she is going to wear lycra? Like for eighties jazzercise?" Mickey’s so excited he could kiss Bob for that suggestion. Sure enough there is only one place hosting an eighties theme night this weekend. It would be too much to hope that he could manage to go alone. Because the minute Bob’s found the club, Hangman is right there to start planning a night of it. Before too long, Mickey’s quest to tell his Angel how he really feels has turned into a Dagger’s night out and a complete and total mess.

Come Saturday night, Mickey’s one of the first Daggers ready to leave base and head out for the night. He's not wearing anything too out of the ordinary, opting for a wide collared shirt, and trousers. The one difference is how his curls cascade over his forehead and the retro shades covering his eyes. It doesn't surprise Mickey at all to see Natasha appear in the parking lot minutes later dressed in lycra and a leotard, big puffy hair, sweatbands, leg warmers and all. Bob wearing a turtleneck and slacks and Reuben when he finally drives up is dressed like Mickey is. But the true surprises of the Daggers seem to be Rooster and Hangman who walk up side by side in matching leggings, leotards, wristbands and headbands. Javy appears sedately behind the duo, dressed similarly to Bob.

Mickey feels kind of like the Ringmaster of a particularly rowdy circus as he leads the way into the club not longer after. It feels like entering an alternate universe. The music is so loud he feels it in his bones. Everyone’s wearing bright colors and dressed like they stepped right out of the 80s. There are more than a few people wearing lycra like Nat, Hangman and Rooster. Already, Mickey can feel the thrum of the beat in his blood. But as much as he’d like to dance, he’s a man with a mission.

He melts into the crowd before Nat and Hangman are back with the first round. If he knows you correctly, and he thinks he does, you’ll be right in the middle of the dance floor. You’ve said it a hundred times, that the center of the dance floor is where you can get the best idea of what the mood is for a club. Sure enough, he finds you in the center of the dance floor. 

The sight of you, it takes his breath away. Lit up by the glow of the lights, you look ethereal. Your eyes are closed as your body moves to the beat.  Much like Nat, you’re in leggings and a leotard too, your hair a halo of curls around your head. But your leotard is more than a little sexier, only a scrap of fabric covering your breasts. You look like sin, your bare arms sparkling under the neon lights as beads of sweat drip down your neck. It’s obvious all the other men on the dance floor want you for themselves too, because one after the other, they keep trying to grind up on you. 

When your eyes open, they glimmer with rage, rage you rightfully use to push the wandering hands off of your skin. Rage that melts into a sweet O of surprise when you see him standing there.

“Miguel?” Here’s another reason why he loves you. The way you say his name is like music. He takes your hand just as the beats of an all too familiar song pound through the speakers.

Jitterbug

Jitterbug

Jitterbug

Jitterbug

"Hi, Angel." Mickey's voice would be barely audible were it not for the way he murmurs the words right into your ear. "I missed you."

You look flattered at his innocent admission, and Mickey's not sure why. 

"I remember you saying something about an Eighties Dance Night. It didn't take long to find this place."

To your credit, you let Mickey twirl you around the dance floor for a few more seconds before you pretty glistening lips part.

"Why do you miss me, Miguel?" You look like you're almost scared of the answer you're going to get. So instead, Mickey croons the lyrics of the song playing into your ear.

"You take the grey skies outta my way (ooh-ooh)

You make the sun shine brighter than Doris Day

You turned a bright spark into a flame (yeah-yeah)

My beats per minute never been the same"

Now there's understanding in your beautiful eyes and as much as Mickey wants to turn tail and hide, instead a glorious smile takes over your face. He doesn't object at all as you drag him outside. In the quiet, he finally, finally hears the staccato rush of your frenzied breaths, calming in tune to your own.

“Mickey, I …” You look lost all of a sudden and Mickey can’t stand to see that look on your face. So he steps forward and kisses you, slow and sweet, pouring all of his pent up feelings into the soft, tender kiss.

“Angel, please. This once, can I talk?” At your nod, he continues. “I know you just wanted some fun, and that was what I wanted too. But sweetheart, I can’t do this anymore. Cielito, it hurts too much.”

Your face falls at his words, and he can almost see the walls come up around your heart.

“I’m almost certain I’m in love with you, and I can’t stand that you’ve left me sleepin' in my bed. I was dreamin' but I should've been with you instead. Wake me up before you go-go. Don't leave me hanging on like a yo-yo.” Your giggle when Mickey starts singing the song is far better than your tears would have been.

“You’re a sap, Miguel Garcia.” But even as you say the words, you’re stepping into his arms. You taste like strawberries as he sucks on your plush lips and it's a taste he's not sure he'll ever get tired of. “I’m pretty sure that I’m falling in love with you too.”

"Come home with me, baby? And stay the night?" Your grin and nod makes his smile feel like a mile wide as he calls an Uber. You’re all over him on the drive to the base gate and all of a sudden it feels like the world is still. Because you’re in his apartment, and then on his bed, the scrap of fabric covering your tits riding up until it’s not covering anything at all. Your moan is musical, too, as he leaves wet kisses over his skin. But Mickey’s sure he likes you best when you’re completely naked and in his arms, a sheen of sweat over your soft skin as you pant against his chest. Your mind looks to be finally, completely silent, and your lips are pillow soft as you press soft kisses over his heart.

“Miguel?” Your voice is a little rough, vocal cords rubbed raw as you snuggle in closer.

“Yeah, Angel?” Mickey’s sure he’ll never get tired of you, not when you’re blinking sleepily at him.

“Take me out for brunch in the morning?” For some reason your sleepy words make him happier than he’s felt in a long time.

“I can do that, beautiful. But you’ll have to wear my clothes. I don’t think that lycra set of yours should be worn in public, ever again.” He has to stifle his chuckles when all he hears is a soft snuffling snore. There’s no way you’re going out dancing without him tonight. You’re too worn out. Is it a crime that he likes you that way?

Taglist:

@chaoticassidy @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 

@mayhemmanaged @desert-fern @cassiemitchell 

@dakotakazansky @roosterforme @cherrycola27 

@thedroneranger @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls 

@sarahsmi13s @horseshoegirl

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun rocktober #wake me up before you go go #mickey fanboy garcia x reader #fanboy x reader #mickey garcia x reader

[asirensrage]

Hindsight - Haitani Ran x Reader Oneshot

Title: Hindsight Rating: Mature Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Pairing: Haitani Ran x Undescribed!Female Reader (side of Takeomi x reader's sister) Warnings: Dark!Fic. Dubcon in terms of forced relationships. Obsession. Swearing. Mention of illegal activities and threats. Mention of proposals and pregnancy. Being used as collateral. Unbeta'd. Word count: ~2400 Summary: You were always going to end up here. She was never going to be allowed to leave and you were just lucky that he saw you as more than just collateral. Based on the prompt: "It doesn't matter what you think. You're mine. You always have been."

Notes: I wrote this all last night. Once I started, I couldn't stop. The idea of being used as collateral for someone else, especially to keep them in a relationship, has been in my mind for a while and I wanted to write a oneshot for Ran. So put them together and this is how it turned out. It's a bit sad when you actually think about it...so be warned.

Find a longer smut-filled rewrite here!

Heed the warnings!

You can’t help but wonder if your sister looks at the events that have led you both here and regrets it. After all, the only reason you ended up here was because of her. You were the good one. You were trying to do things right but it didn’t matter. She was your sister and no matter where she went, you ended up following. 

An arm lands on your shoulders, pulling you in against a chest. You feel his lips press against your hair. “Not hiding from me, are you?”

You force yourself to try to relax, even as you wrap your arms around your waist. You’re not used to the dress you’re wearing and despite the warmth of him, you’re still cold. “Just getting some air,” you finally say. 

“Come. Takeomi’s here.”

You look at him at that. With Takeomi came your sister. How long has it been since you’ve seen each other? She tried to escape the last time, tried to plan a distraction to get you far away from Bonten as possible. It didn’t work. You don’t know what happened except that her punishment was more severe than yours. The two of you had been barred from seeing each other for weeks. 

“See? I can be nice,” he says, turning you back and leading you into the building. 

“I know.” You say it because that’s what he wants to hear. 

The party is still going strong when you go inside. Thankfully it’s not one of the clubs he likes to drag you to. Instead, you’re playing arm candy as he charms some of the important people of Japan who are already neck-deep involved with Bonten. Most of them made that choice freely. It makes you a little sick if you think about it. Your gaze slides over the crowd until you see the one person you’re searching for. 

“Can I go see her?” you ask. 

He doesn’t say yes but he does wrap his arm around your waist and takes you toward them. When you get close, you can see her properly for the first time in months. She looks terrible but the only reason you can tell is because you know her so well. Her makeup is perfect and the dress fits her like a glove, but she’s a little thinner than she used to be and you can see how her eyes are less vibrant. Takeomi has an arm wrapped around her, his other hand holds a cigarette and drink. It looks casual and flirty but you know that it’s a chain. A sign of ownership as clear as the necklace you wear. 

Takeomi had fallen for your sister when you were young, promised that he’d take care of her, of both of you, and then never let her go. As much as she tried to keep you a secret, you found yourself dragged in front of the Executives to officially meet them. Your sister couldn’t meet your eyes that night and Ran hadn’t left you alone since. 

Your heart clenches at the way your sister looks to Takeomi for permission and you move forward before she can ask for permission. You couldn’t bear to hear it. Ran lets you out of his grasp and you hug her tightly. She clutches you back just as hard. 

“You okay?” you ask softly. 

“Yeah, you?”

“Yeah.”

You let go, stepping back into Ran’s embrace and leaning against him. A small price for the favour he’s granted you. He holds you as tightly as Takeomi holds her. 

“Didn’t think you were coming,” Ran says, smiling at Takeomi. “Didn’t you say these things weren’t your scene?”

“Someone’s gotta keep you in line,” the other man answers. “Especially since your brother is otherwise…occupied.” He glances at you. “We have news for you too.”

“Me?” You blink and look between him and your sister. She straightens and smiles. It doesn’t look forced, reminding you of what she was like when they were first together. Before she found out how deeply involved he was. Before she was forced to introduce you to them all. 

Your sister reaches out and touches your hand. “Not here. We’ll plan something soon, okay? Get together just the…four of us. Then we can talk, okay?” 

“Okay,” you agree. There’s no new ring on her finger so it can’t be that. Besides, you’re the only one left in the family and Takeomi seems old-fashioned enough to ask for the family’s blessing before he proposes. You hope. Not that saying no would make any difference. 

“Come on, darling,” Ran says, pulling you away. “Let’s continue our rounds.” 

When you get home, you’re exhausted. Your heart aches. Mingling with people who praise Bonten, as if they don’t know half the shit these men have their hands in, wears you down. It’s partly why you hate going to them. The other half is having to play up being Ran’s loving partner. At least at home, you don’t have to pretend. 

You go through the motions, placing your heels in your shoe closet, removing your jewelry and attempting to undo the zipper on your dress before giving in and searching for him. Ran is in the bathroom, already running the bath and undressing himself. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and despite knowing why you’ve come to him, he waits until you ask. 

“Can you get my zipper? Please?” 

His reflection smirks before he moves behind you. You grab your hair, pulling it out of the way. His fingers brush along the collar before he holds one edge and slowly pulls down the zipper. Fingers trail softly along your spine before he leans down and kisses your neck. “You were so good tonight,” he murmurs. “So beautiful. You know how many of those men wanted to take you home? To fuck you?” 

“No,” you say softly. His words are nothing new. He loves being the center of attention and having other people’s jealousy just adds to it. That’s why he dresses you in the most fashionable clothes he can buy. He thinks you’re sexy and wants everyone else to see it too. 

“And only I get that honour.” He tilts your head back so he can kiss you. You lean into it, opening your mouth so he can deepen it like you know he wants. “Come on,” he says when he finally breaks it. “The water is just the way you like it.” 

He helps you out of your clothes and motions you to the bath. It’s hot, but just as hot as Ran can stand. It’s not enough to burn him out of your skin. You sink into it, closing your eyes as you lean back. You can hear the soft sounds of Ran undressing, his clothes hitting the floor before he picks them up and folds them. The two of you are the same in that way, taking care of the things you have because you know what it means to not have any of them. 

“You gonna give me some space?” he teases and you open your eyes, moving forward automatically. The water splashes as he moves in behind you. It takes some positioning before the two of you are comfortable, but the bathtub is large enough to fit both of you. He made sure of it once you told him how much you prefer them. 

Ran moves you to lean back against him. You’re warm and comfortable and tired. His fingers follow maps against your skin that only he knows. You close your eyes and try to relax, but your mind replays the image of your sister. 

He kisses your neck. “What are you thinking about?”

“My sister. Just wondering what they want to talk about.”

“Maybe they’ll get married.”

You try to look at him. “You think so?”

“That or he finally knocked her up.” 

You freeze. A child would be permanent. You know your sister. There’d be no leaving with that. Not that either of you were ever getting away from these men. They had a chokehold on both of you. 

“You like that idea?” He murmurs against your skin. “Want one of our own?” 

“I–” you swallow tightly. “I don’t know. I never thought of kids.” It’s a lie. You don’t want one. You don’t want his. “Have you?”

His hand moves to splay his fingers across your stomach. “You’d look fucking hot pregnant.” It’s not an answer. “But then, you’ve always looked hot.”

You lean back against him. “You think we’re going to be together forever?” you ask softly. 

“Yes,” he answers with complete self-assuredness. He stills though when you don’t answer. “What? You don’t agree?” There’s a tension in his tone that warns you. 

“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.” 

“It doesn’t matter what you think. You’re mine. You always have been.” The words come so easily, like he doesn’t condemn you every time he says it. 

“Always?” You can’t help but ask. You remember meeting the Executives and the way your sister whispered to you to stay quiet and not noticeable. She said to let her do the talking. She was going to introduce you and then you’d leave and she’d take you out to lunch in payment. 

You already knew Takeomi from her dating him. You liked him well enough, he occasionally took both of you out and made his own younger sister join so you’d have someone near your age to talk to when your sister brought you over. 

He introduced you to his coworkers. They weren’t that much older than you at the time, mid-twenties to your early twenties, but Ran flirted with you the moment your sister was distracted. You tried to keep your promise, to stay silent and uninteresting, but he flustered you and you both knew it. By the time you left, it was too late. Nothing your sister could do protected you from his interest. 

“I knew you before we met,” he says. “Takeomi was always happy to go home to his long-term girlfriend and one day, he showed us pictures of some outing he took you both on when you were younger. Before Bonten was a thing. You were so cute,” he reaches up and pinches your cheek, laughing when you swat him away. “When he said your sister was thinking of leaving him, adamant to keep you out of it, well…we were all interested. I just got there first.” 

You frown at that. It’s likely not the complete truth. He never tells you the complete truth, but there’s enough in it for you to decipher. Takeomi was the one who gave you up. Likely in an effort to control your sister, especially since she had admitted she was considering breaking things off. It was getting too dangerous. But once Ran had you in his sights, you got swept into their current and there was no escape for the two of you. There never would be. 

“Let’s wash up and get to bed. Unless there’s an emergency, I don’t have to go in tomorrow. You get me all to yourself,” he teases. 

“Just what I wanted.” If he hears the sarcasm in your voice, he ignores it. You reach for the soap and hand it back to him.

Despite all his flamboyance and desire for fame, the one thing you know you can appreciate about Ran is his desire to sleep. He keeps your bed as comfortable as possible, including the highest quality sheets he can find. It’s tempting to sink into it, but once you dry off, you sit on the edge of the bed and grab the lotion. Ran takes it from you and kneels. You watch as he rests one of your feet on his leg and lathers the cream on. He does it carefully, even though you can see the exhaustion in his eyes. He takes his time to make sure you're taken care of. It would be sweet if you had come into this relationship more naturally, if you didn’t know that there was always going to be the threat hanging above your head, waiting for the final wrong move you make. 

“Come on,” he says when he’s done. “Let’s get some sleep.” 

You’re not sure if it’s relief or regret that settles in your stomach. You expected his touch, wanted the escape of the pleasure he’d bring. He knew exactly how to make you crumble, how to make you beg for a release only he would provide. Ran liked to hold you on the brink until you swore that you were his, only his, and you’d never leave. You could forget everything when he touched you like that, especially the weight of the chain he held around your neck. It never seemed that bad when you were panting for breath, when you felt like he was breaking at your touch and the two of you were just lost in each other for that moment. 

You crawl in next to him and he pulls you into him, curling around you so that he can hold you. Ran inhales softly, murmuring how good you smell before he buries his face in your neck. He seems to fall asleep instantly but you know from previous experience that the moment you try to get out of bed, he’ll wake up. He always does. 

You can feel sleep pulling on you, dragging you down, but you still can’t help but think of your sister. How long will it be until you two can actually see each other again? Until you’re allowed to hang out the way you used to, without chaperones? If either of you had known this was your future, you know your sister would have never accepted that date with Takeomi just to keep you out of it. That was the problem when you got involved with gangs, after all. It was never just you. You get in deep enough and it takes everything you love with you. If only to hold it against you. 

It was a shame you couldn’t see the future then, that you couldn’t go back in time to warn yourself and your sister about the men in your lives. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered. Every path she’d take would have ended up here and you were always going to follow. You were always going to be lost in their promises, in his touch, in the reminder that you’ve always been his whether or not you’ve known. 

You let yourself fall asleep in his arms, cradled between your regrets and the man who claims you.

gen taglist: @raith-way @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse @themaradwrites @kingsmakers @far-shores

#aka Ridea once again writes things that are based on her real life and something she avoided lol #dark!fic #haitani ran x you #haitani ran x reader #ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #tokyo revengers oneshot #dark!ran x reader #bonten ran #bonten timeline fic

[obsessedelusional]

I love you, that’s all that matters

paring ✦ Bella Ramsey x Plus Size Fem!Reader

summary ✦ When fans find out Bella is dating a plus size women, you, most are nothing but evil. Causing you to have anxieties about your relationship. What happens when it’s time for the first public outing at a premiere? This was requested - here

word count ✦

authors note ✦ YALL are so sweet to me. I’m glad y’all are enjoying the Bella lil oneshots I’m putting out. Have a few more ideas for plus size reader so I might make this some kind of series if y’all want that THANKS

masterlist

FEEDBACK AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!!

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

Time had finally came for you to be Bella’s plus one to The Last of Us season two premiere party. You were so proud of your partner, they were out there doing the damn thing. Selfish is how you felt, the week leading up to the event. Doing everything in your power not to make it obvious that you were nervous, not wanting to ruin Bella’s big moment. This was your first official outing together.

You and Bella had been dating for less than six months. Meeting them as you were part of the hair and makeup team for the show. You had joined the crew for season two. Early morning were spent aging up Bella with your makeup skills. You quickly noticed how often they’d mess up their makeup to have to sit in you chair again. Couldn’t help but wonder if they did it on purpose? Turns out it’s was on purpose.

When filming had wrapped up little did you know Bella was torn up about not making a move. One morning you woke up to a instagram dm, it was Bella asking to take you out. You said yes and the rest was history. The two of you spent every possible moment together. After the first date Bella came over to your home and basically never left. Their apartment was in the UK, you had visited once only to meet their parents and find out Bella was selling her apartment. So she could live full time with you in LA.

“Are you okay, babe?” Bella asks, taking you out of your deep train of thoughts.

“Yeah.” You mutter. Bella approaches you, your sat at your vanity getting ready for tonight.

“Ay do not lie to me,” Bella responds, grasping your face gently so they can get a better look at you.

“You haven’t stopped fidgeting with that same brush for a while now. Every time I walk in here your staring at you reflection, deep in thought. What’s wrong?” Bella was right, you’d been sat here for over an hour and you haven’t even started.

“I’m scared.” Like clock work, the tears start to fall. You apologize for crying only for Bella to tell you it’s okay, pulling you into a tight embrace. Soothing your emotions, running their fingers through you hair.

“There’s no need to be scared baby.” Bella says pulling alway briefly to, wipe away at the tears that had stopped as fast as they started.

—

Your relationship with Bella was private, you were more than happy to have them all to your self. It made it hard to go on dates but you two managed. Normally opting for ordering in and spending the whole night intertwined. That all came to an end when three months into the relationship, you made a mistake. You woke up late after a late night of work to find Bella sat at the kitchen counter, playing on their phone. You do what you normally did, walk up behind them placing sweet kisses down their neck while wrapping your arms around their waist. Normally Bella would reciprocate but this time they didn’t. Causing you to pull away looking at Bella’s phone only to see that they were on instagram live.

“Fuck I’m sorry.” You say, moving out of the way of the camera.

“It’s okay, I gotta go guys.” She says before shutting her phone off, ending the live right then and there. Bella sets her phone down, pulling you into a hug.

“I should of told you.” Bella says.

“I should of used my eyes and seen what your were doing before throwing myself at you in front of thousands.” You sigh, looking to Bella apologizing.

“Don’t ever apologize for throwing your self at me.” She laughs causing you to laugh.

“It was gonna come out sooner or later. It’s fine we’ll deal with it.” Bella smiles reassuring you that everything is okay.

It was okay. Until you opened your instagram later that day, fans recognized you from behind the scenes videos finding you easily. Every social media account of yours was filled with comments about your relationship. Some were nice, most of them nasty.

Most of them directed at your weight. Pointing out how much bigger you were than Bella, like you never noticed. You had noticed quickly but Bella reassured you that they loved you just the way you were. Your whole life you had been bigger, it never bothered you as much as it appeared to bother others. When you were younger, bullies had made you feel bad about your body. As you got older, you worked so hard to learn to love your body. Deciding in that moment to shut off your comments on instagram, deactivating your twitter. Making anything else private.

—

“People are gonna hate me.” You explain why you’re filled with so much anxiety.

“I love you, that’s all that matters.” Bella kissing you softly again. They stand up behind you, letting their hands rest on your shoulders.

“You are beautiful. I love you. If those people were actually my fans, they’d love you too. Anyone who has anything nasty to say about you doesn’t matter to me. What matters is the feelings we have for each other, okay?” Bella is looking at you through the reflection of the mirror sat in front of you. Their words bring a big grin to your face.

“Okay.” You let out a defeated sigh.

Bella spends the rest on the time in the room with you, spread out on the bed. Watching you do your makeup, complimenting you. Hyping you up with ever step in your makeup routine.

“I feel bad this is your big day and you’re doing the most for me.” You say, nearly done getting ready.

“It’s working out great for me. Too distracted by beautifully amazing sexy girlfriend to be nervous about tonight.” They tease, making you smile for the millionth time today.

“You’re too good to me.” You respond. Bella gets up from where they’re laid.

“That’s because you only deserve the best, duh.” They kiss you again, their hands find their way to hips. Pulling you in closer, messing up your lipstick in the process.

“Oh shit we’re gonna have to fix that, huh?” Bella laughs looking at their own reflection. Your red lipstick smeared on their lips.

“How am I supposed to kiss on you? You’re gonna keep getting lipstick on me. With you looking like it’s gonna be so hard.” Bella whines, wiping away at the lipstick.

“You can’t last a few hours?” You shake you head disappointingly.

“Nope.” They say, kissing you one more time.

“One more for the road, I’m done for now.” Bella adds, once they finally find the will to pull away from your lips.

“For now?”

“Just wait till this is over.” They wink before their phone goes off, letting them know the car is here to pick the two of you up.

#bella ramsey fluff #bella ramsey x you #bella ramsey imagine #bella ramsey x reader #bella ramsey pov #bella ramsey #bella ramsey oneshot #bella ramsey x plus size reader