#Your spirit can be trained to grow

[igate777]

[shmpxx]

CURSED SPIRIT — y.o

⛤ curse! yuuta okkotsu x fem! reader

yuuta okkotsu being your one and only curse.

cw. smut. unprotected sex. creampies. multiple orgasms. groping. dry humping. public sex-ish. fingering. slight oral (f. receiving). overstimulation. thigh fucking. somnophilia. possessiveness. yandere tendencies. mentions of violence. +18!

wc: 1.2k

a/n: inspired by @deviants-forest work! etc. (go check it out) also happy kinktober! :)

Curse!yuuta who creeps up your back, his hands finding your waist and his lips tickle your ear as he’s whispering how much he needs you on a subway train to home. “Not now…” you whisper over your shoulder to him trying not to be noticeable by others who crowded you and payed no mind, too busy on their phones. You bit your bottom lip when he presses himself against your ass in one movement already having your blood rush like crazy. You try to keep your composure like nothings bothering you but yuuta’s hard on humping into you desperately, whining in your ear and his cold hands reaching under your shirt to grope your boob. “need you ‘s bad” he was always touchy, could never keep his hands off you.

Curse!yuuta who doesn’t mind your sorcerer friends as long as they don’t get too close. Your friends can sense the heavy weight of cursed energy from you, even if they got close it was too much to bare sense yuuta was around, the air would fill thick and negative. You could barely go out with them to eat without his fingers buried in your cunt and playing your clit. They would ask you if you were okay when your head is down on the table but you just excuse it as you were not feeling well for a second but yuuta is grinning ear to ear, amused how your well your taking his slender fingers, curling them inside and you can’t help but squirm in your seat acting like your stomach is just hurting though you were about to orgasm. “Please yuuta..” you whisper to him “Come on you can cum on my fingers..” his raspy tone sending you shivers down your back.

Curse!yuuta who watches an “old friend” hug you, his hands in places that shouldn’t be. After you would praise yuuta for staying calm but yuuta would give shake his head only because you would be upset if he did anything and simply gave you a warning “Next time I’ll break his arm” “You can’t be serious” you sigh, you always knew he was.

Curse!yuuta who clenches his fist watching some prick try to flirt with you in front of him knowing he can’t be seen. Even the second time you reject him you can feel yuuta’s anger grow by the second that in any moment he would take action. “I-i have a boyfriend-“ praying yuuta doesn’t get violent “I don’t see him?” His hand coming up to touch your shoulder now he’s on the floor shouting in pain, blood from his broken nose all over his hands, shaken up that he didn’t see anyone hit him? Was he going crazy? “Pathetic” Yuuta mutters luckily he held back a lot, he could do so much worse and this wasn’t the first time.

Curse!yuuta who gets anxious that you might hate him when you get into arguments. He feels like he can’t exist without you, he’s nothing without you and the thought of you hating him makes his heart sink and scared that he’ll be all alone. He didn’t care about anyone else he just needed you. The amount of times you got tired of telling him not to hurt people and you could handle the situation yourself. He’ll plead you not to hate him and apologized excessively. “We can talk about this tomorrow” his stomach sinking by the tone of your voice that it will all end up to you hating him. He couldn’t stand the feeling.

Curse!yuuta who wants to let you know how much he loves you and how much he needs you, praying you don’t leave him or hate him. He glares at you in your sleeping state though he can’t wait til tomorrow he needed you to know now. “Please don’t hate me” “i love you so much” as he’s softly kissing your neck on each side, peeling your panties off. The cold air makes your cunt clench at his sight. He’s kissing the inner of your thighs sweetly and his lips makes contact with your pussy and a small whimper emits from your mouth. “Yuuta” you utter half sleep thinking it was only a sex dream, you were a heavy sleeper at that. he’s burying his lips between your folds trying to get more like he was so starved. If he can just make you feel good you won’t be mad at him and you can forgive him.

Curse!yuuta who can’t wait any longer, his dick pulsating through his pants even how much he gets drunk off your pussy, he loves the taste of it every time but he’s rutting against the mattress. Brings your thighs together to slip his cock between, throwing his head back letting out quiet moans as his cock is rubbing against your clit between your thighs. Your eyelids almost twitching open. He spreads your legs apart and sinks his dick into you watching your pretty lashes flutter at the sudden pleasure of you being spread apart. “Yu..?” You begin to stir awake, he kisses your lips before you start to fully take consciousness. “I don’t want you to hate me” “forgive me please” as he’s thrusting harsh inside you and swallowing your lips. By the time your walls were the shape of him every time he used you so it was easy for him to slide right in, you were made for him and he was made for you was the thought that brought him comfort. His fingers entwines with yours, his cock continuously rubbing hard in your insides. “Yuuta!” You moaned beautifully in his ear, your hand clawing at his back, yuuta loved it, it didn’t hurt him because you could never hurt him he didn’t mind it.

Curse!yuuta not wanting to stop, he’ll never get tired of cumming and filling up your pussy. You’ll be overstimulated begging him to stop it was awfully much to handle, you couldn’t cum anymore but you did as he’s plunging his cock in your abused cunt. The choke sobs and sounds of squelching filled the room “Need you-need you tell me you love me…please f-forgive me..ah!” Rubbing your clit increasing more nerves. “I-i love you yuuta! Ah-I really do! I could never be mad at you” Your words lifting weight off his chest still pounding into you. Holding you in a warm embrace to finish inside you. When he did filling up your womb one last time with his string of cum, your nails dig into his back letting your last orgasms crash into you. You let out a cry into his shoulder, your body trembles.

Curse!yuuta who needs constant reassurance you’ll never leave him, placing gentle kisses on each part of his face. Even though he’s nothing but a curse to you, being invisible to the outside world, Has a hard time showing remorse it’s just what he does to protect you, he somewhat doesn’t know that but knows he can be a bit possessive he just can’t help the urges of anyone getting close to you or worse even laying a finger.

Curse!yuuta bending you over the counter in the morning as you were trying to make yourself breakfast, last night was rough you were a bit sore but yuuta still misses your pussy. “Just a quick one I promise! I miss you so much! I’m just displaying my love for you—“ he pushes himself inside your worn out cunt from last night once again, you whimper at the feeling each time he rolls his hips when his balls slap against you. His hands reaching to your tit, massaging it in his palms. You don’t think you could ever break the curse from yuuta okkotsu.

[hellishjoel]

wild like the west

3.3k / pairing: cowboy!joel miller x cowgirl!reader

main masterlist | notifications blog

summary: joel and his cowgirl warnings/information:  MA 18+ (minors DNI), implied but unspecified age gap, joel is technically reader's boss (so power dynamic stuff), swearing, dirty talk, pet names (baby girl, brat, etc.), unprotected p in v, pussy pronouns, asphyxiation kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, clean up on aisle reader's stomach, reader is described having hair but otherwise (I believe) reader is a blank slate, no use of y/n, barely edited A/N: I unfortunately have not stopped thinking about a game joel miller x yellowstone crossover, and I feel like he would like this to be his long, happy life. I also haven't written for joel since may which feels like a sin! sorry baby!

It doesn’t matter how many ass bruises you get, or the pain of repeated thrashes to your knees from getting bucked off; this unruly horse will bend its spirit to your will. 

Half the job of purchasing new horses for the Miller Ridge Ranch is breaking them in like a pair of new shoes. 

Any cowboy, or for you, cowgirl, knows that a horse can sense your personality and fear from a mile away. If you sprout fear, it won’t trust you to be the guide on its back. It’s a mutual thing to trust one another. It’s the trust Joel thrust upon you after loyally working at the ranch for a handful of years. Sure, you were young, but you had a good head on your shoulders.

He perches his cowboy boot on the low fence rail, teeth gnawing at a toothpick as he watches you with careful eyes. The morning dew settles over the long grass and tall trees, untouched by man, fostered by nature. With the sun clawing at the horizon, the land turns from a pale blue to a beaming orange glow.  It’s beautiful here, peaceful. You imagine this is the life that Joel always wanted, craved. He’s not from around here, he’s got too much Southern twang to be from these northern Montana woods. 

Life guided him up here and he never turned back. 

You can feel the horse grow agitated under your haunches, whinnying with anxiety as it takes a few rough steps backward in the ground-up dirt. 

“S’okay, boy, take it easy, easy,” you coo in a gentle voice that lets the horse breathe through its panic. You grip the colt’s mane at the very base of his neck, right by the horn of your saddle, gently scratching that sweet spot that seems to bring him some tranquility.

You’re the only one who seems to calm these beautiful boys. 

“You got a habit of gettin’ in’ta trouble before it even knows to start lookin’ for ya.” Joel’s southern drawl rumbles deep from his chest, stepping into the training ring and crooking his first two fingers in your direction. 

“I got it, Joel,” you say insistently, guiding the horse by a little squeeze of your boots to its belly in Joel’s direction. 

“Know ya do.” Joel stops at the horse’s chest and pats its neck, large and calloused hand stroking down its coarse mane as he stares up at you, squinting from the morning sunlight. 

His eyes are starkly brilliant in this light, typically a dark brown, now a glowy amber under the brim of his black cowboy hat. “You know that part of learnin’ how to be a cowboy is lettin’ them break in their own horse. Hop down.”

A sigh leaves your parted lips as you unhook one boot from the stirrups and throw yourself off. Taking the reigns, you walk with Joel back to the main fence. 

“You’re too nice to ‘em. I hired you to be a bit more…” He pauses indefinitely, tilting his head.

“Ruthless. I know.” Your eyes connect, both hardened after years of this long life. One day of being a cowboy felt like a year at any other job. 

The plan was plain and simple, a route you’d taken a hundred times with a crew that changed on and off for the past couple of years. The cattle were in need of fresh resources, lush grass to graze on, and streams of pristine crystal water. Up through the valley they’d go. 

The cowboys and cowgirls were gathered on their horses, Joel sat atop his beautiful black mare, eyes piercing his crew even behind his tinted sunglasses. Any season besides summer in this state demanded thick, warm work wear. Joel adorned a chocolate brown Carhartt and thick denim jeans under old, worn-out brown chaps. 

“I want Wyatt and Jack to take front, Bo and Sadie, swing, Jess and June on the flank, Tucker and Sammy on the drag. Wear your bandanas, it’s gonna get dusty back there,” your eyes flick up to a string of confused faces, “any questions?” 

“Why do we have to go through the valley? We’d have to push hundreds of cows through open water,” Bo mutters, disdain for a woman making all these choices for him, perhaps. 

“Yeah, n’I can’t swim. Never learned.” Another pipes in. 

“Then you’re a goddamn idiot,” old man Wyatt gurgles up a chuckle. Wyatt has been a cowboy longer than you have been alive. He raised you up to be tough with a streak of kindness that could never be washed away. He gives you a tight nod of reassurance as you sigh weakly. 

All this tomfoolery seems to be a bit much for Joel’s taste. “She’s takin’ questions about the plan, not your ‘pinions on it. I tell her what to do, she tells ya’ll what to do. You question her, you question me. So do as she says, or you answer to me.”

Joel’s always had a tight hand on the crew. He intimidates them. He is their boss, after all. They have a problem with you or this ranch or anyone else, they answer to him. Joel takes off his sunglasses and narrows his eyes on Bo, the newest cowboy with a pretty big mouth on him who bucks just as bad as your new colts. And his dead eyes are set on you. 

The rest of the crew sets off towards the direction of the cattle herd, everyone except Bo. 

Your head jerks upward in his direction, your own eyes narrowed. “You wanna say somethin’?” You ride alongside Bo, who seems to be wrestling with his stupid thoughts. But before he gets a chance to say anything, Joel intervenes. 

“Got a fight in you? It starts an’ ends with me.”

Bo looks between both of you, simply scoffing before he backs his horse off and trots along towards the crew. 

The view from the top of the valley is beautiful, all yellow and golden, with a pale blue sky and tall trees that harbor the secrets of the forest. Joel used to tell you it would whisper to him, warn him. Your chestnut-colored horse stands tall next to Joel’s, and both of you are overseeing the herd and the crew working together. 

“Not as bad as I thought this was gonna be,” Joel mutters, turning his head in your direction. You’re unrecognizably quiet. He’s never known you to be so still. 

He watches as your fingers anxiously twirl your horse’s mane. “You undermine me in front of them, and they don’t respect me, Joel.” 

So that’s what got you so stiff. He takes in a deep breath of mountain air, crossing his wrists over the horn of his saddle and glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye. Your hair blows in the wind, gentle and flowing. Almost graceful if it wasn’t in this wild west. Your beauty was city beauty, he was surprised you ever found your way out here. 

“Bo’s as green as grass. He needs to learn not t’talk to you like that. And if he needs to learn from me, so be it.”

Keeping your lips zipped, your eyes scan the points that use the dogs to guide the herd in the right direction. The swings and flanks work the mid to back-mid to maintain movement, and the drags stationed at the back ensure that any loose stragglers keep up. 

Joel rolls his eyes and sighs, reaching his hand across to your horse’s reigns, keeping your horse tucked to his side. 

“C’mon, Cowgirl. Spit it out.” 

“You go about defendin’ me, it looks like we’re sleepin’ together,” you gripe, “and I don’t need our crew slingin’ the slander that I got my job fuckin’ the boss. I don’t want that shit, Joel.”

Joel shifts his jaw from side to side, silent as he usually is. His tongue muscles over the right words, the words that will settle that ball of uncertainty you have nestled in your gut. 

He settles on the truth. 

“We are sleepin’ together.” 

Shaking your head, you steal your reigns back from Joel and gently nuzzle your boots against the horse’s underbelly. “Well, maybe that should end.” 

Joel watches on with a small smirk as your horse is set in motion down the grassy hill. He shouts loud enough for his voice to carry down from the high ground. “You set those boys straight, or I’ll have to keep doin’ it for ya.”

You sling back your middle finger in his direction, both of your horses riding side by side now as you follow the crew through to the valley. 

Joel sighs upon entering his large, private cabin, resting his cowboy hat to air out on a hook by the front door. His clothes wreak of his musky sweat, and the shower calls his name. He walks stiffly. Joel’s thick thigh muscles are as strong as iron from riding his horse, and his back cracks each time he inhales.

But he can’t deny that this life was made for him. 

Training to be a carpenter, earning pennies on the dollar to work in the hot Texas sun, and for what? Building someone else’s dream property? He had his own dreams. 

The ranch was his dream.

He always had a profound appreciation for nature and the outdoors. 

Fuck the city, fuck car horns honking obnoxiously, fuck the traffic. He found more fulfillment in listening to the wind flutter through the trees and would much rather hear the moos of his cattle than impatient commuters at six in the morning. 

Plus, he’s never felt more free or independent. This was his land, and he made the decisions on how it was run. Hiring the sassy cowgirl from the metropolis just happened to be a nice bonus on lonely nights when there wasn’t much left to his whiskey bottle, and the ride into town was more than twenty minutes for a new one. She sated him all the same, better, even.  

Despite years of riding and wrangling, you’re so fucking soft. You have soft eyes, a pretty voice, and satiny thighs. Your lips are plush against his weathered ones, and you don’t seem to mind sitting in his lap with his rougher-than-barbwire hands feeling over your body. 

But in turn, you’ve made a little soft spot in his wild like the west heart of his. And he swore he’d never settle down; you seem to have the same intentions. 

Things were easy. Nice and easy. Almost routine. 

The bunkhouse would be busy with cowboys and cowgirls playing card games, drinking their beers, singing to the music on the radio, and talking nonsense. You’d slip out after dark and wind up upstairs in his bed. 

He recalls you saying something about how his bed is more comfy than the ones in the bunkhouse. 

“Whatever you say, darlin’.” 

Tonight was no different. Fresh from his shower with a towel secured low on his waist, he hums curiously at the sight of you sprawled out across his bed. No more than a minute later, you are tugging it loose from his frame and letting it pool around his ankles. 

“Thought you said you were done,” Joel muses with a hint of teasing. You sit up from the bed on your knees and wrap your arms around his broad trap and shoulder muscles. 

“I ain’t a quitter,” you mutter against Joel’s mouth, feeling his tongue glide along yours as he explores you freely. 

He sheds your clothes, feeling your freshly showered skin and hair under his rough palms. He can’t help but touch you like you’re his, like he owns you. But no man can possess the wind. 

You kiss as he slips you under the bed’s cool sheets, drunk on the way you move so pliantly under his guidance. His lips move to the slope of your neck, his greying whiskers scratching your skin before he washes over the irritation with more kisses. 

Joel’s hands slip between your legs, cupping your clothed center in one hand. Your eyes light up at the friction, mewling up a moan of his name as he massages over the wet spot growing on your panties. 

“She’s already soaked, darlin’. You been thinkin’ ‘bout this?” Joel muses, sitting up properly to peel your shirt off your body, two fingers curling around the hem of your panties and chucking them mindlessly on the floor. 

“Joel,” you whisper breathlessly as he’s about to slip down between those pretty legs of yours. 

“What?” He asks, damn near annoyed. 

“I can’t wait,” you beg breathlessly, his eyes meeting yours. “I-I can’t, I’m beggin’ you, please. It’s been a long day.” 

Joel sighs but ultimately nods. It’s not what he wants, but sometimes you both need a quick fix. 

Joel’s body parts your legs, a grunt escaping the depth of his throat as he ruts his hips against your own. 

“Good idea,” he mutters against your mouth, leaning down and distracting himself with your kisses as he lines his length up and down your soaking center. 

You sharply inhale as he enters and the sound is music to his ears. He feels your nails carving into his back muscles as he sinks himself in deeper deeper deeper, both of you panting with eagerness by the time his hips are flush with your own, lost in where you end and he begins.

You let out a string of moans as he reels himself back, only to return to your depths with a snap of his hips that releases a shrill whine of his name from your throat. His forearms are buried in the fluff of the pillows on either side of your head, forehead against forehead, his hips grinding against you now. 

The friction is enough to make your head spin. You can feel the coarse hair of his happy trail tickling your already anxious pearl. 

“Fuck,” you huff out, letting your hands slip down his back, knowing that if you want him to pick up the pace, you’ll have to ignite his fire. In one quick movement, your hands drag themselves up Joel’s back, your nails creating etched lines that raise red once you finish at the very tops of his shoulders. 

Joel releases a long, low groan in response as his eyes snap open to meet yours. The sting of pain creates heat along Joel’s spine. His jaw is wound tight as he brings his large hand to wrap around your pretty throat, thumb on your chin to force you into staring straight at him. 

“Such a goddamn brat,” he growls, adding pressure to the column of your throat as he begins to pound into you harder and harder with each thrust of his hips. You cry out his name, a cacophony of your panting moans and your slick squelching against his hips fill your ears. The ecstasy of losing just a smidge of air is enough to make your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

He’s obsessed with the way your eyes gloss over in lust, your body jerking up the bed with each powerful thrust he gives you. Your mouth hangs open, gasping for air that’s just out of your reach. 

“You take it, baby girl, you keep takin’ it. She’s so fuckin’- goddamit, so fuckin’ good for me,” he pants, feeling the warm air dissolve against your skin as Joel begins to swell fatter inside of you. 

Perfectly slick and warm, he loses himself in your pussy. You squeeze and choke him, his orgasm only building as you whimper how good he feels. 

“Holy fuck, Joel, please please please, right there, ohmygod you’re gonna make me-” you gasp, your back arching off the mattress as you grip onto his forearm that’s still holding your delicate throat, your other hand gripping the hair at the nape of his neck. He knows to squeeze a little harder as you fall apart, the euphoria of the combination sending you over the edge. 

Joel’s holding on for dear life, always focused on putting you first, always trying to prove your jokes of him being an old man wrong. But he can’t deny he’s nearly finished twice now, your pretty cunt all nice and warm for him. 

What’s wrong with pushing you over the edge a little?

Joel abandons the hold on your throat as you still are witnessing the aftershocks of your orgasm, his two thick fingers circling over your swollen clit. 

Joel smirks as your eyes snap open, your jaw dropping wide as you silently scream in pleasure. He nods sadistically, smirking as he overstimulates your already twitchy clit.

“You’re gonna give me another, right here, right now,” Joel grunts, stilling his hips as he’s buried to the hilt inside you, feeling your pussy clench around his cock as your gasps and strangled moans fill the room. 

“Fuck, Joel I don’t think I can,” you cry out, bracing the wrist of the hand that’s still working figure-eights around your pearl. Joel watches as your chest rises and falls quickly, nipples at peaks as you continue to clench repeatedly around his cock. 

 “Know you can, baby, cum on this cock again. You’re a strong cowgirl, ain’t’cha? You been thinkin’ ‘bout this all day, getting this pretty girl drilled by me, know ya have.”

And he’s right. Shamefully so. Denying Joel looks good in and out of his cowboy attire is just nonsense. The way he rides his horse with his thighs snagged tight around its middle, gnawing on his toothpicks to ward off the need to smoke a cigarette or chew; at this point, it’s everything that he does that turns you on. 

And maybe that’s why it’s so easy to give him a second one. 

Your nails pierce into his skin as your hands grip his biceps, mewling and moaning something wrecked, feeling the warmth gather deep in your belly once more. 

“Keep fuckin’ me, I didn’t say to stop,” you pant.

Joel disguises his laughter by meeting your lips with his own, giving you messy kisses that taste better than perfect ones. His hips and fingers work in tandem to force you over the edge. You’re shaking under him, your thigh muscles twitching with excitement, legs wrapping around his middle as he grows closer to his own finish. 

Just as he feels like he’s going to give way, he can feel your pussy clenching around his aching cock, his tip brushing so perfectly against that spongy spot that sets your insides alight. 

“Fuck,” he grits, ripping himself loose of your perfectly wasted cunt as he yanks over his length. One, two, three more times, and he’s spilling warm spend across your belly. The pretty splatters are like a Jackson Pollock. He stares in awe at how pretty you look getting finished on. 

The bed dips as he falls into place beside you. He doesn’t lay idle. He reaches for some tissues from his bedside table, politely wiping away his mess as you stare at him with lustful eyes. You were so fucked out. Sorta cute. 

“Quit,” he mutters, avoiding your eyes. 

“You ain’t as old as I thought you were.” You whisper, a smirk tugging on the corners of your mouth. 

Joel chuckles softly at your familiar tease. He's heard it countless times, but it never ceases to make him roll his eyes and pull you closer to him. He kisses your forehead affectionately, his voice carrying a hint of playful banter.

“You gonna keep remindin' me about my age every chance you get? Don’t stop ya from comin’ back each night.”

You lay your head on his chest and listen to his heart thump. 

Joel’s got one arm slung around your shoulders, the other on your thigh that’s draped across his middle. His strong hand works slowly into your tired muscles. You play with the greying curls on his chest, taking note of the dark, nearly black ones still speckled throughout. 

“Goodnight, old cowboy.” You say, patting his chest, hearing his slow laughter rumble from his chest. 

“G’night, pain in my ass.” 

main masterlist | notifications blog

[celesteleoves]

hey! can you do headcanons on Bakugou and Izuku (separate) with a reader who's quiet and doesn't talk much but is Hella strong. How would they react to it? If you do thanks sm! it's really sweet of you!!!! :)

“SO SWEET, WITH A MEAN STREAK.”

KATSUKI BAKUGOU/IZUKU MIDORIYA x reader.

summary: your quiet strength intrigues these two boys, how would they react to you before/in a relationship?

warnings: none!!

a/n: this is such a cute ask!! i hope this is to your liking and if it isn’t and you think something is missing, let me know! this is also quiet short because i have a fever 😔

—

KATSUKI BAKUGOU —

before dating:

i can imagine him being a little skeptical of you, but so intrigued!

he’d definitely want to see how far your strength could go. so, bakugou would subtly challenge you during training sessions, pushing you to see your true capabilities.

he’d nevee admit it but he looks up to you in a way. you don’t boast and scream about your strength like he does - that makes him respect you. he would start to see your quiet nature as a sign of focus and determination rather than a sign of weakness.

he’s so competitive… it’s honestly a little scary. before you two were even close to being friends or anything more, he’d definitely get a competitive drive when it comes to you.

this idiot would definitely think he’s competing with you 24/7 even though you remind him you are not. he thinks doing this will make you become more outgoing and competitive.

“HA! i finished my bowl of ramen before you, loser, i won!”

“we were competing over that?” i’d be confused if i were you too… he’s a little slow but he’s got the spirit!

dating him:

once you two start dating, bakugou becomes fiercely protective of you, admiring your strength and determination even more. he thinks his role in the relationship is to protect you from anything that might make you lose your strength!

he’s so loud (we know that obviously) but with you, he’s loud in a supportive way. he’s now boasting about you and your strength instead of his own!

he encourages you to continue improving and growing, offering both praise and constructive criticism. even if you don’t need it, he’ll keep doing it anyway.

bakugo has never felt like he had a opponent that could really give him a run for his money, until you two train together.

training with him would be so so sweet. if he hit you too hard, he’d immediately worried if you didn’t tell him you were alright. (he won’t outwardly admit he’s worried about you but you know deep down he is!)

“are you bleeding? you shithead! i’m not worried... are youbleedingthoughbecauseifyouarethat’snotgood-”

“fuck, did i burn you? don’t start. i’m not worried about you at all, tch!” he says this as the tip of his ears are burning from lying…

he’d still work hard while training with you but still making sure he isn’t doing too much during simple sparring matches. he likes to learn from your strengths and weaknesses!

everyday is a day where you two grow together and bakugou is proud of you for simple improvements in your strength (you’re stronger than him lol and he knows you could take him down in a second!)

IZUKU MIDORIYA —

before dating:

Izuku notices your quiet demeanor but senses a strong presence and capability within you. he’d write about your strength and weaknesses in his hero notebook. he’d ask you so much questions (totally not to get to know you better… totally…)

“sorry- i’m not trying to be a bother but can you tell me more about your quirk! it’s so cool and you’re so strong!” he blushes immediately after rambling about how you’re so talented and your strength is admirable. meanwhile, your twirling your hair over the fact he thinks your strong!

one time, you caught him drawing out your hero suit and make little point notes about it. you went to your dorm and giggled about it for the rest of the day. it literally felt like a award to be in his hero notebook!

we all know izuku is his classmates biggest supporter, he is always wanting his classmates to grow alongside him and is pushing everyone to become the best hero they can be!

with you, he offers encouragement and support to you, believing in your potential and wanting you to believe in yourself as well.

because of your quiet nature, izuku might try and show his admiration for you in anyway he can. he admires your quiet determination, seeing it as a reflection of your inner strength and resolve.

basically, he’s your #1 fan!

you two initially work well together as teammates, with Izuku valuing your contributions and skills.

once you two start dating, it’s a whole different story!

dating him:

your relationship deepens Izuku’s admiration for your quiet strength, appreciating how you compliment each other. (everyone is class 1-A is still shocked at how well you two compliment each other, even before you guys were dating!)

izuku becomes a source of emotional support for you, understanding your quiet nature and providing comfort when needed. he never tries to push you outside of your comfort zone, enjoying your quiet times when his day has been stressful and filled with loud classmates.

you two continue to train together, pushing each other to improve and achieve your goals. you always tell him about how you want to grow your relationship by training and working hard together!(izuku almost cries when you tell him that, pls he loves you so much)

izuku and you build a strong foundation of trust and understanding, working towards your dreams together while supporting each other every step of the way.

he enjoys your company more than anyone else, not only are you strong physically but you are strong mentally. your words of encouragement and advice after a tough day of training always make him want to jump off the walls! you have that effect on him!

—

for both boys, whether before or after they start dating you, katsuki and izuku come to deeply appreciate your quiet strength and see it as an integral part of your relationship dynamics!

[esthercore]

I don't know if it's a thing yet or not, but Yandere Aventurine x Talent Motivation Department - employee reader!!!

Yan!Aventurine who was handed in your care when he first joined the IPC. Since the two of you were of the similar age range, and you always had been such a sweetheart in Jade's eyes, she personally hand picked you as the guide for the latest stone heart. The boy all your to nourish and train: to be graceful, fancy, extravagant and make him someone fitting the title of a Stoneheart.

Yan!Aventurine who at first was too cold and distant, barely talking to you, and extremely depressed when left alone. But after seeing you waking up at unholy hours, to prepare for his day, working more than you were needed to for your paycheck, spending time with him in silence even in your off hours, all that just to give him company and make him feel not alone, he realized that your compassion was genuine and you cared for a monster like him, cared for a slave, a killer, a loser, all hell went loose.

Yan!Aventurine who despised his work, the stuffy environment, and especially the opportunist people surrounding him, so he get attached to you, the only genuine person in his life, his lovely caretaker. Slowly starting to grow extremely dependent on you emotionally once he knew you really care for him, refusing to learn how to do his hair properly, or proper dining etiquettes, etc. just so he can be in your care for longer.

Yan!Aventurine who doesn't wear all the flamboyant clothing and way too many accessories during his missions because he likes to be extra/maximalist, no. He does so because he's trying to wear all the gifts you have ever given to him all at once as many as possible, to show his appreciation, and to keep you close to him in spirit, just in case this mission happens to be the end of his life.

Yan!Aventurine who can't believe a person as kind and gentle as you is actually real, as he see you worrying about everyone around you. Helping elderlies cross the road, patching up little kids playingin the playground, baking for your friends whenever you feel like, greeting every stanger you see with a smile, trying your best to brighten everyone's day. Pathetic, you were truly pathetic in his eyes, so vulnerable for any vulture to pick you up and tear apart, a fucking push over.

Yan!Aventurine who soon realizes how much more power he has over you, his mindset starting to getting corrupted with his workplace, and the inner panic realizing how your time as his caretaker is going to end soon. Slowly he started tugging in a few strings to dwindle your reputation in your department through some ugly methods, no matter the cost that now remain hidden is his mind, long forgotten in the future. After all, he can't have his lovely caretaker to be placed with some other no-good person who will only take advantage of you! You caring for someone else, talking so lovingly with someone else, letting someone else lay on your thighs as you pat them asleep, letting someone else bring you expensive gifts as a token of appreciation, letting someone else making you laugh, letting someone else get so close to you.

Letting someone else replace him.

Yan!Aventurine who offers to move in together in his new bigger house now that he was in an established position, just when your position as a respected member of talent motivation department is threatened to fall and your salary starts getting cut short, in the guise of repaying your kindness, knowing damn well how desperately you needed to save some housing money and can't reject.

Yan!Aventurine who was always there for you as your friends and coworkers started growing distant from you, and coddling your anxieties away when mean rumors about you started spreading around, comforting you just like how you used to comfort him, despite being the reason you cry in his arms.

Yan!Aventurine who start taking you out to work parties or hang outs, as your work load started decreasing, and you grew lonely with your friends leaving you, charming his way in your heart, loving the way you started blushing around him, and fully taking advantage by teasing your more to see your cute reactions, adoring how this all was meant for him. Your love, attention, care all for him.

Yan!Aventurinewho gently shifting your 'roommate' duties, to more domestic one, like cooking, cleaning, and anything that was indoors, preferring to do groceries shopping either by himself or together, making sure your contact with others remain as minimal with others for the sake of his own sanity.

Yan!Aventurine who was shocked when you were the one to confess first, his heart beating fast in his ears, face red, and tears welling in his eyes, as he collapse in your arms, surprising you with the hug and the chats of i love you's.

Yan!Aventurine who almost can not believe his life is really true, as he lean against the doorframe, watching as you feed the little cat cakes he got. You now leaving your work to take care of your lover, leaving behind the people who left you just due to some stupid rumors, and now sporting the title of a stone heart's lover, enjoying your life of luxury.

Matchmaker! Jade who always had a gut feeling you two were meant for each other, since the day she appointed you.

[paishowhitelotus]

Rewatched book 1 after watching the live action and here is a list of everything that wasn’t in the live action that I think should have been :

Sokkas war paint

Saying the words “hair loopies”

Barely seeing the boomerang

Katara being able to calm down aang during the avatar state

The comet

Importance of mastering all 4 elements

Sokka dressing in kyoshi warrior clothing and learning the strength of women (removing and growing from his sexist beliefs)

Zukos honor /destiny (think it’s mentioned once?)

Mouthfoaming guy

Aang water bending

Roku manifesting and telling jeong jeong to teach aang firebending

Aang trying fire bending too soon and burning katara which leads to him being hesitant on learning firebending in book 3

Katara finding out about her healing abilities

Aang being selfish by keeping location of Sokka and kataras father from them

Aangs crush on katara

Aang doing everything he Can to heal his friends in the swamp

"Miyuki, did you get in trouble with Fire Nation again?”

Rokus dragon

Aang dealing with the guilt of leaving the southern air temple and all his people getting killed and not accepting his role as avatar

Sokkas intuition for recognizing Jets deceit

Sokka being a natural inventor (it’s barely even touched in the live action) Sokka is smart and creative

Katara’s dedication to learning water bending by stealing the scroll

Katara’s jealousy of aang being able to bend and learn faster than her

Kataras fierce determination and her take no shit personality

The cruelty of the fire nation by imprisoning earth benders into work camps (this is just one example)

Katara’s selflessness and bravery by getting herself imprisoned in the war camp and saving all the prisoners shows how much empathy Katara feels for people and always wanting to help those who can’t help themselves

Showing how master jeong jeong and others left the fire nations army because of its cruelty (fire nation people can be good and recognize the evil in their own ranks)

How aang feels upset about the disrespect and condition of the northern air temple/legacy of his people but accepts it in the end knowing they need this temple as their home

Using the fallen war balloon to create a fleet of airships in the final battle with Ozai

Appa being a badass and also fighting to protect aang multiple times

Iroh and his white lotus tile (this is important foreshadowing for later seasons)

The healer in the northern water tribe recognizing the betrothal necklace and realizing it belonged to her friend and kataras grandmother, kanna, who was engaged to master pakku of the northern tribe but left to live in the South Pole

Katara confronting pakku and telling him “I’ll be outside if you’re man enough to fight me” ( the challenge is off screen in live action, dumb choice tbh just glad we got to see the physical fight at least)

Pakku finding the betrothal necklace and talking about kanna and katara saying her gran left because “she wouldn’t let your stupid tribes customs control her life” which in turn makes pakku reconsider and start teaching katara waterbending

Pakku complementing kataras skill saying she’s has advanced faster than any other student he has trained (this shows how great and powerful of a water bender she truly is)

How strong the water benders are at night especially during the full moon

How the moon was the first water bender

Zuko kidnapping aangs body while he is in the spirit world

“You rise with the moon, I rise with the sun”

Not showing emotion to koh cause he’ll steal your face

Zuko talking to unconscious aang telling him how everything always came easy to his sister, she’s a firebending prodigy. Ozai telling Zuko that azula was “born lucky while Zuko was lucky to be born” (another instance of ozai’s cruelty as a father)

Talking about how iroh has been to the Spirit world

Zuko trying to challenge katara during a FULL MOON” “Here for a rematch?” “Trust me Zuko it’s not going to be much of a match” and then her kicking his ass in 5 seconds

Aang showing compassion to Zuko by saving him again despite Zuko kidnapping his body

Iroh staying with katara Sokka and yue after the moon spirit is killed (this shows his heart)

Yues body disappearing and her spirit kissing Sokka and her saying “I’ll always be with you”

The ocean spirit grabbing zhao and dragging him into the sea

Pakku wanting to help rebuild the southern water tribe

Pakku Calling her Master katara and saying she’ll train aang from now on

Azula appearing at the end and Ozai sending her on a task because Zuko is a failure and iroh is a traitor

[ninibeingdelulu]

how would megumi confess or act towards the girl he’s secretly getting a crush on? ofc both itadori and kugisaki noticed it, thank uuu

How he act when he have a crush on you ft. megumi fushiguro

a/n: tyy anon for requesting, I love this idea so much >.< .I hope u like it

You've been part of the tight-knit quartet since day one at Jujutsu High, instantly bonding over all the intense craziness you were thrown into as first-years.

Megumi was a bit prickly and standoffish at first, but you were one of the few brave enough to playfully needle him until he cracked a smile.

Over time, Megumi began opening up more around you specifically. There was something innately reassuring about your warm, supportive presence that helped soothe the Fushiguro scion's lingering loneliness and guilt.

Itadori and Kugisaki don't fail to notice how Megumi's eyes linger fractionally longer whenever you laugh or gently tease him.

The faintest hints of pink dust his cheekbones as he drops his usual guarded frown into a rare soft smile reserved only for you.

The merciless teasing quickly commences - Kugisaki makes obnoxious kissy faces every time you enter the room, while Itadori not-so-discreetly shoves Megumi or elbows his ribs whenever you're nearby.

Megumi just grits his teeth, ears burning as he hisses at them to shut up already.

You, forever oblivious, just assume the three friends are goofing around as usual. Turning your bright, curious gaze onto them only makes Megumi's heart stutter harder while Itadori and Kugisaki’s cackles grow louder each time.

Any brief alone moments with Megumi are cherished - like when you grab his arm for balance scrambling out of the fissures after his technique backfires in training.

Your hands linger almost shyly yet still electrified by the contact.

Out of earshot, he vehemently denies everything to Kugisaki's ever-present smirk and Itadori's goading - "just freaking TELL her, dude! Stop being a punk!" But the mere thought of confessing makes Megumi seize up, gut roiling.

Until one day on a mission, a cursed spirit catches you completely off guard with a brutal attack as Megumi can only watch in paralyzed horror.

Moments from being skewered, his fear for your life overrides all restraint as he instinctively summons the full extent of his domain.

By the time Itadori and Kugisaki join him, the twisted creature has literally been crushed into dust.

You're clutched tightly against Megumi's heaving chest as he holds you like his life-force itself.

"Don't ever scare me like that," he growls into your hair, lavender eyes squeezing shut as if in excruciating pain. "I...can't lose you too..."

You freeze, finally realizing what your friends had been seeing all along through new senses electrified by his proximity.

Megumi's heart pounds double-time against his ribs pressed to yours.

Itadori and Kugisaki exchange a loaded look and quietly slip away to give you two some space.

Sure enough, Megumi tilts your chin up with shaking fingers, finally meeting your eyes unflinchingly as the words tumble out in a shaky exhale...

[imagines--galore]

||Theatrics||

Summary: During a little impromptu training session, you happen to sprain your ankle. Luckily Zuko is around to help you back to Katara so she can help. Unfortunately for Zuko, you have a tendency to be slightly dramatic about your injuries.

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. Fluff. Slight mention of injury but that about it.

A/N: You guys voted, so here it is! Also gif is definitely Zuko’s reactions to reader’s.....theatrics :3

"I’m dying!”

“You’re not dying Y/n.”

“Then why is the world growing dark!?”

“You probably have your eyes closed.”

"I do not need your sass while I am dying Zuko!”

“Well maybe you should shut up before I drop your dying butt.”

Smack.

“Ow!”

“Rude Zuko!”

“Thats it! You can crawl back for all I care.”

“No! Wait! Zuko! Wait!! I’ll be quiet.”

“One more word out of you, and I won’t carry you back.”

Katara looked up from where she had been mending Sokka’s shirt, again. There was no one in sight yet Zuko and Y/n’s voices were loud enough to echo along the path leading up to the main courtyard of the Ember Island Summer House. She stood, dropping her sewing to side as she quickly made her way towards the door and peered outside.

It took a minute or so, but then she saw the approaching figure of Zuko with.......you on his back. An amused smile played across the young waterbender’s lips as she watched the Fire Nation prince approach with you slung over his back, your arms wrapped around his shoulders to keep yourself in place.

“Katara! Oh! Now I won’t perish! Or perhaps I will? The pain is too much.” You moaned, throwing your head back for dramatic effect, the force of which nearly made Zuko stumble in his steps. Katara giggled as Zuko huffed in annoyance.

“She twisted her ankle.” He explained as he carried you into the courtyard with Katara trailing behind.

“And who’s fault is that? If you hadn’t startled me during my practice then I wouldn’t have twisted it.” You snapped back. Clearly the pain was making you more then a little cranky.

Zuko rolled his eyes, turning around and dropping you, rather unceremoniously onto the wooden platform that led to the rooms. You gave a little yelp, glaring at the Prince who smirked back as you rubbed your tailbone a little. Katara, ever the kind soul, carefully removed your shoe. You let out a soft hiss as the leather was slipped off.

Removing the cork from her water pouch, Katara made quick work of assessing the damage. “Well you definitely twisted it. I’ll try to heal it as much as I can, but it’ll be a little while before you’re able to walk on it properly. Probably a day or two.” You turned to glare at Zuko who rolled his eyes. “I’ve blasted you off the side of a flying bison Y/n. I don’t see you holding a grudge about that against me.” He said, referring to the days when he had spent chasing Aang and the rest of them.

“Yeah, well I got my revenge when I knocked you out with a blow to the back of your head.” As Katara started her healing process you held up a threatening finger in his direction. “You better watch out Princey, I will have my revenge.”

Zuko smirked. “What will you do? Hobble after me waving a crutch?” You growled under your breath, looking like you would leap at him at any moment. And if your ankle wasn’t throbbing so much you would have.

“Now now children. Lets not fight.” Katara said in a mocking tone as she tried to contain her laughter. You let out a small sound of relief as some of the throbbing was alleviated as Katara worked her healing abilities. “You’re a spirit-send Katara.” You said, gratitude shining in your eyes as you grinned at the girl.

Zuko frowned. “What am I? An ostrich-horse? I carried you back and you don’t call me a spirit-send.” You turned your attention back towards him, an annoyed frown creasing your forehead. “And who’s fault was it that you had to carry me back?”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

“I am a performer, I’m supposed to be dramatic.”

“Over dramatic you mean.”

“Need I remind you, the acting company I worked for won awards for being one of the best in the Earth Kingdom.”

“Probably when you weren’t working for them.”

“As if your dramatic self is any better? Out of all of us, who’s the one moaning about his so-called honor all the time?”

“That was in the past.”

“The past was only a couple months ago, Princey.”

“Shut it Drama Queen.”

“Ah! At least I’m a rank above you, you fire-breathing-”

“Er.....guys?”

You and Zuko broke eye-contact to glare at the poor unsuspecting Avatar who had just arrived from the market with Sokka, Suki and Toph from an errand run.

“What?” The two of you snapped in unison, prompting Aang to let out a nervous laugh and slowly back off, holding his hands up in a surrendering manner.

Taking the lull in the argument, Katara quickly finished bandaging up your ankle and patted it in a reassuring manner. “There, you’ll be all better tomorrow.” You gave a small smile in thanks to the girl before gripping the sides of the wooden platform and slowly starting to stand. You tried putting some weight on your bad ankle, only to wince at the pain that radiated from there. It was much better then what it had been a few moments ago, but it still hurt.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I shall be retiring to my room.” With a haughty look in Zuko’s direction, you turned towards where you room was.

"Isn’t our room upstairs Y/n?”Toph helpfully reminded you, causing you to pause from hobbling forward. Your face fell, shoulders slumping, causing Sokka to let out a bark of laughter, only to shut up when Suki gave his shoulder a light punch.

“Hey Aang? Can Appa drop me into my room through the window?” You asked, turning to the younger boy with a pleading look. Before Aang could reply, Zuko let out a loud groan, throwing his head back to stare at the sky as he growled.

"For the love of Spirits!”

With that he stomped forward, and before you even got the chance to say anything, he had lifted you off the ground, one arm secured around your waist, the other under your knees to keep you from falling. Meanwhile, you had let out a shriek of surprise, your arms coming to wrap around his shoulders.

“If we want to defeat the Father Lord, you’d better start laying off from the FireFlakes.” He grumbled as he began to carry you towards the stairs.

“Its Fire Lord, and are you insinuating that I am fat?!”

“I said that! And I’m not insinuating, I’m stating a fact.”

Thwack!

“Ow! Will you stop hitting me?!”

“Then stop being so rude. I thought Prince’s were all about manners and chivalry when it comes to ladies.”

“Lady? You? Please! Toph is much more of a lady then you are.”

Thwack!

“You hit me one more time and I’ll drop you on these stairs.”

“Do it! I’d rather crawl up then be carried by you anyway!”

“Ungrateful brat!”

“Pouty prince!”

“Drama queen!”

“Honor bound jerk!”

Your voices started to muffle to the rest of the group as the two of you walked further into the house. The younger members of the group stood where they were, a little dumbfounded at what had just occurred.

“I bet you anything these two are gonna be even worse with their flirting when they get married.”

Sokka gaped at Toph, who stood there smirking.

“That was flirting?!” He exclaimed, prompting his girlfriend to roll her eyes at her boyfriend, smiling at how oblivious Sokka could be. Aang blinked his wide grey eyes. “You know, now that I think about it, whenever we fought Zuko in the past, Y/n always had something to say to him.”

“And he always said something back.” Katara added, the laughter obvious in her tone as she continued to listen to the muffled arguing through the wooden floor above.

[holllandtrash]

say don't go | charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

based off of taylor swift's 'stay don't go' why'd you have to lead me on? why'd you have to twist the knife? walk away and leave me bleedin'

word count: 5.2k tags/warnings: slight angst, mentions of being disloyal, this is kinda sad, mention of smut i guess but blink and you miss it

You weren’t one to let your past haunt you. It was the past for a reason, it belonged behind you, all you could do was grow into a better version of yourself.

But what the hell were you supposed to do when Charles showed up at your door after six months of silence? 

It was a week into December and you were reluctantly putting up Christmas decorations because you were tired of the comments your friends made, telling you to get into the holiday spirit. Now you had the silver tinsel gripped in your hand as Charles stood on your front step, light flurries landing on his coat only to melt immediately after. 

It was the middle of the day and you lived in a crowded area, but passersby on the sidewalk and those driving past had no idea there was a Ferrari driver only metres away from them.

But no one would guess that Charles Leclerc would be travelling to Bristol during his holidays.

“What? Were you in the neighbourhood?” You asked, flicking the tinsel off of your hand and shaking off any remnants. You watched it fall to the floor before looking up, “Felt like stopping by?” 

“Can I come in?” Charles asked, glancing behind you. Was he looking to see if you had company? If you had moved on? Regardless of what, or who, he was looking for, his shoulders relaxed when he could tell you were alone. All that was behind you was cardboard boxes labelled Christmas. 

“Give me three good reasons why I shouldn't shut the door in your face,” your demand was laced with your usual sweet tone, the same one that always intimated Charles because he never knew what to make of it. Never once did you raise your voice, you never yelled, never showed signs of anger. Even when you were annoyed, you always sounded calm. 

He sucked in a breath, “Well, it’s cold out.” He chuckled, but when you didn’t see any humour in his words he just nodded and moved on. “I was, in fact, in the neighbourhood- well I was in London, just figured I’d make a quick trip out west.”

Those weren’t good enough reasons and he knew it. You moved to grab the door and Charles reacted by holding his hand out to stop it from shutting, eyes trained on yours. 

His cheeks were red, not accustomed to the British winters. He wasn’t wearing mitts and you could see how his hands had responded to the dry air by cracking at the knuckles. His lips trembled, not because he was nervous but because this was probably the coldest his body temperature had dropped to in a long time. 

Which had you questioning how long he had been standing outside your door before finally knocking.

“There’s some things I’ve been meaning to say for a while now,” Charles spoke softly and you could see his breath with each word. “And you don’t need to say anything, but I’d love it if you’d listen.”

Maybe you felt bad that he was cold. Maybe you were curious as to what he had to say to you after so long. Maybe part of you still missed him and if these were the last few minutes you’d get with him, you weren’t going to let them pass.

Whatever the reason, you held the door open and he stepped inside. You watched as he ran his fingers through his hair and slid his coat off, hanging it on the empty hook on the wall. Your eyes darted down to the shoes he wore and Charles recognized that look, knowing better than to walk any further with his shoes on. He smiled, sort of, remembering the first time you asked him to take his shoes off when he entered your apartment. 

If this was six months ago, you would have had slippers waiting for him to put on, but instead Charles was left to just his socks. You, though, seemed quite cozy. The matching sweats and jumper was only a shade darker than the slippers you wore and Charles almost asked where you purchased the set from, but he held his tongue because now wasn’t the time for casual conversation.

“Tea?” You offered, glancing at the kettle sitting on the stove. It had started whistling only minutes before he showed up but you hadn’t had a second to pour yourself a cup, too caught up in trying to untangle tinsel.

“Don’t want to put you out,” he shook his head, but when you manoeuvred past him to step into the kitchen, he didn’t stop you from grabbing two cups from the cupboard. He watched, standing at a cautious distance, as you made the two drinks the same way you always did. 

Charles was brought back to the time he walked into his own flat in Monaco and you were kneeling on the counter, trying to find a suitable cup because all of his mugs were too big and bulky for tea. He held his hand to your back, worried you’d tip backwards, which you didn’t, but you were happy he was there to help you off the counter and greet you with a kiss. 

“I’ll invest in new cups,” he said. He never did.

He didn’t like the silence that lingered between you now, probably the first time it ever bothered him, so he cleared his throat, “I like your new place.”

You nodded, “Thank you.”

He glanced around at the decor and spoke up again, “So you’ve been well?”

“You don’t need to pretend to care about how I've been.”

“I do care.”

The slow yet icy stare you gave him as you peered over your shoulder had Charles wondering if showing up here was a good idea. Instead of opening his mouth again, Charles looked at the decorations littered on the floor. 

He was drawn towards the open box of ornaments that was placed on the couch. He noticed the tree in the corner, but all you had put up so far was a string of lights. Curious, he looked closer into the box and smiled to himself when he saw a vintage Formula 1 Ferrari, no bigger than the palm of his hand. He also spotted a racing helmet, but couldn’t recognize the driver it belonged to.

It wouldn’t have shocked him if the rest of this box was F1 inspired Christmas ornaments. Either ones you had purchased yourself or ones that were given to you as gifts. 

Charles was always amazed at your knowledge of Formula 1. With your father being a retired driver himself, he shouldn’t have been surprised when you swept him under the rug during a trivia night. He admired your passion for the sport and maybe that’s why when he met you in the Ferrari garage, he wasn’t as quick to judge you like he was to everyone else who had purchased VIP passes for the weekend. 

You were there for the sport, for the racing, you didn’t care who was driving the car, it wasn’t like you had favorite drivers.

You were raised to appreciate the history of the sport, the roots, the beginnings. Because of that, you were drawn to the older teams, the classics. Williams, McLaren and against your fathers wishes, Ferrari. So of course you wanted to experience the Ferrari hospitality during a race weekend at least once. To see the cars up close, to be in the garage, to see the race from an entirely new perspective.

It was Australia, the third race of the 2023 season. It was a race that Charles tried hard to forget due to his DNF at the first turn, but there were highlights he cherished before the incident. 

He remembered standing in the garage before the first practice session and turning his head to flash a smile towards the VIP members standing at the back. He paid no attention to any of them in particular, but you stood out. The way you were so focused on the screen, taking in the Tech Talk segment that was playing on F1TV. You hadn’t even noticed Charles looking.

He saw you again the second day, closer to the front of the group before the start of FP3. You were wearing a white set, arms crossed over your chest with the headphones resting around your neck. You weren’t watching anything this time, instead you were in the middle of a conversation with a few of the mechanics. 

At first, Charles thought they were flirting with you. But when you pointed at the rear wing, lines drawn across your forehead and eyebrows pinched together in studious fashion, Charles got the hint that this wasn’t just a casual conversation. 

And then you held out your hand to introduce yourself, your once serious expression turning soft. You smiled at the mechanics as you shook both of their hands, seeming truly grateful to have met them. 

Naturally, Charles was curious as to what sort of conversation just took place. He waited a few minutes before asking Mark, the one of two mechanics who seemed to be doing most of the talking. 

“What was that about?” Charles asked.

Mark looked over his shoulder at you, but you were too engrossed in the screen again to notice the few sets on you.

“You don’t know who she is?” Mark asked. 

“Should I?” Charles glanced your way. This time, you caught it. 

You were also the first to look away.

“Damon Hill’s daughter,” Mark chuckled, probably in disbelief himself over who he just met. “She’s also got her masters in engineering. You know what she pointed out- the activation time for DRS is delayed compared to everyone else on the grid. I don’t know how she noticed it, but we’ll take a look at the data and if she’s onto something we’ll fix it before qualifying.”

Damon Hill’s daughter. The 1996 world champion. He had made a name for himself, known for being one of Schumacher's rivals during his prime. Charles knew he had kids, but didn’t know who they were. 

He wanted to introduce himself, but he waited till after qualifying. 

Was he a little taken aback when you seemed to be paying more attention to Carlos’ side of the garage at the end of the day? Maybe, but you had been watching him all weekend so far so he didn’t like the sudden change. 

His P7 starting position was nothing to be overly proud of, but the congratulations was the first thing out of your mouth when he approached you.

“Thank you,” he nodded, suddenly feeling a bit more pride now than five minutes ago. He glanced at the car and then back at you, at the VIP lanyard resting over your chest, at your eyes that momentarily had him forgetting why he walked over to you in the first place. 

You held your hand in the same polite manner you had with the mechanics and you introduced yourself as Charles shook it slowly. 

“Damon Hill’s daughter,” he stated. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

You cocked your head slightly, “Is that a line?”

A blush crept up to his cheeks when he realised how flirtatious he sounded without trying to, “No- I mean,” he licked his lips. “I guess it could be but I wasn’t trying for that.”

“I only just graduated,” you answered his question, which wasn’t really a question. “Figured I’d watch a few races, check out a few teams before I decide if I want to dip my toe in the motorsports field.”

“Driver?” He asked, eyebrows raised even though Mark had told him what you studied. But you laughed and Charles was glad he brought up the idea of you getting behind the wheel. He could get used to your laugh. 

“Engineer,” you corrected. “To be honest, I think IndyCar might be more my thing. Plus I know Arrow McLaren is looking to expand, hire a few more performance engineers. Mind if I use you as a reference? I saw those mechanics working on your DRS set up, don’t let them take the credit for catching the activation error.”

It was his turn to laugh. He liked your humour, something else he could get used to.

“Mark mentioned you pointed it out,” Charles nodded, unable to keep from smiling. He liked the way you spoke. Not only did he find your accent endearing, but he liked how sure you were of yourself. You knew your talents, you knew what you were capable of. He admired it. 

“Good luck tomorrow,” you said, taking it upon yourself to end the conversation. You adjusted the purse over your shoulder and gave him a soft smile. “It was nice meeting you, Charles.”

And then you walked off, happily letting someone else from the team accompany you, probably an engineer. Probably someone who could match your expertise in a conversation.

Charles didn’t know when he’d see you again, but he took it upon himself to make sure it was sooner than later.

Following Australia, the drivers had a bit of a break. Almost an entire month.

It was only a few days into the break when he asked his manager to get Damon Hill’s contact information. 

Confused was an understatement when your dad called you and said ‘Tell me why I just got an unsolicited text from Charles Leclerc asking if he could have your phone number’. 

By the end of the week, Charles had flown you from Paris, where you resided at the time, to Nice. He was there at the airport to pick you up and drive you to Monaco. 

You spent that entirety of the break together. 

Charles was smitten. As were you. 

But you were cautious. 

You knew first hand that racing was at the top of his priority list. You weren’t about to get your hopes up and think that these few weeks meant anything. He just had time on his hands and you showed interest. 

However, it was hard not to fall for Charles. He treated you well when you were together. He was easy to talk to. He made you feel safe, admired, wanted. He asked all the questions he could think of to get to know you. He made you breakfast in the morning, or at least he tried to. The mornings when you woke up to the smell of burnt eggs were just as entertaining. Plus you figured you could get used to the way he wrapped his arm around your waist as you took over. The kisses he peppered on your shoulder that tempted you towards pulling him back to the bedroom.

By the time the season picked up again for round 4 in Baku, you were so used to being around him that you had to tell yourself not to be hurt that he didn't suggest you go with him.

You and Charles did a lot of things during those few weeks, but never once did you label what you were. That conversation never came up. Neither did the exclusivity talk.

He still called. He texted you daily. He treated you like you were special, but racing came before a relationship. Even your dad reminded you of that. He told you not to dwell on it, that Charles would come to his senses when he felt secure with the team, with the season. He didn’t need the support of a girlfriend, he needed the support of his team.

And then Charles informed you he was flying you out to Miami. He wanted you to watch the race again. He wanted you there. 

You didn’t accompany him to the track, but he greeted you with wide arms and the brightest grin when you showed up at the Ferrari garage. His hand stayed on your lower back for a bit as he showed you around, giving you a proper tour but when you came across Mark it was almost as if Charles passed you off. 

He said ‘Here, chat with Mark for a bit, I’m sure you’ve got some opinions about the car’ and then he walked away.

You tried not to think too much about it, maybe he had obligations, media, signings, something. He wouldn’t fly you out to Miami and abandon you the first chance he got. He was a driver, he had priorities. You weren’t one of them, not yet.

It was a difficult situation to be in. When Charles gave you his attention, he gave you every ounce of it. But when he was gone, he was gone. Distant, on his phone, sometimes he quite literally disappeared like at the end of the day on Saturday and you were left in the Ferrari garage wondering where the hell he got off to. 

But then he knocked on your hotel room door at a little after 10 and who were you to turn him away? 

Charles pulled you towards the bed, dragging you with him as he laid on the mattress. He asked about your day between the kisses he left down your neck. You answered as best as you could, but when his hands found the button of your trousers, it became a little more difficult to collect your thoughts. 

When he gave you his attention, he gave you every ounce of it. 

You had forgotten all about his disappearances earlier. They didn’t matter, he was here now. His lips trailing every inch of your skin as your back curved off the bed. You tried to remind him that he had a race tomorrow, that you both could just go to sleep if he wanted but Charles only smirked and raised his face back to yours.

He hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with a ghost of a kiss, “Ma chérie, I’m not going to sleep until I hear you scream my name.”

He kissed the corner of your lips and then trailed down towards your ear, adding a quiet, “At least twice,” to the end of the original statement. 

And Charles was true to his word. He had you seeing stars with just his tongue alone in a matter of minutes. 

Charles worshipped you, he took care of you. In a short period of time, he came to know your body and how to get the reactions he desired. He loved seeing you come undone, loving being the one to bring you to the edge and watch you spill over. 

Maybe it was a pride he was chasing, but you wouldn’t think of that possibility until it was too late.

When he climbed under the covers next to you at the end of the night, you could still make out the shape of his body, his gentle features, even in the dark. Your hand found his chest, sliding upwards until it wrapped around his shoulders, pulling yourself closer to him.

He traced his fingers over your cheek, pushing a strand of hair out of your face as he whispered, “Comment ai-je eu cette chance?” How did I get so lucky? 

That did it for you.

You weren’t just smitten anymore. You were in love. 

Another impromptu break after Miami meant you had a few more weeks with Charles before he had to give his attention back to racing. You didn’t spend it all in Monaco this time. After about a week, Charles suggested the two of you go back to your home. Back to Paris.

Paris with him was heavenly. 

The rest of the world didn’t matter when it was just the two of you together. Your days were spent taking in the city, your evenings were spent in a variety of restaurants, lounges, anywhere he could spoil you, it seemed. 

It was nearing your last few days before he had to leave when he suggested you take a midnight stroll. The weather was perfect, the streets wouldn’t be too busy. You had no reason to say no. 

And there was something about walking the streets of Paris with Charles at night, holding his hand while he spun you under his arm beneath the glow of a street lamp. The Eiffel Tower was sparkling in the distance. Charles’ eyes lit up brighter than it. 

There was something about him. About this moment. About the last few months. All of it led up to standing here with him now.

And you knew better, but that didn’t stop you.

“I love you.”

And just like that, you faded into madness. Slowly, silently, but it was inevitable. 

Charles didn’t say anything. His lips parted like he wanted to, like he thought about it, only to ultimately lick his lips and inhale a sharp breath. 

By saying I love you, you plunged a knife into your own chest, opening yourself up to vulnerability, but his silence only twisted it in deeper. 

You backed up, hand dropping from his. Was that his doing or yours? He whispered your name, but only out of pity. He didn’t love you. He didn’t love you. 

Suddenly Paris didn’t seem so heavenly.

Charles left that night. Maybe he thought you were asleep, but you heard the door swing on its hinges. You heard the wheels of his suitcase being dragged out into the hallway. You turned over in bed, despite knowing you’d find his side empty, but you didn’t think it would turn cold so fast. 

A few days later, Charles was spotted walking into the paddock of the Monaco Grand Prix, but he wasn’t alone.

Next to him, the stunning Alexandra Saint Mleux. Even her name was beautiful.

You had heard whispers that Charles and her had a history, but you didn’t think anything of it. Why would you worry yourself with speculation when he was putting you on a pedestal when you were together? 

He had a way of making you feel wanted, but you weren’t the only one who felt that way.

Did she know you two were together? That he was with you in Paris? Was he seeing both of you or did he run back to her the second you told him something he wasn’t ready to hear?

You tried to move on, really. There was no relationship for you to cling to, Charles never said you were exclusive. He just knew the right words to say to make you feel like you were. 

You flew to Indianapolis for the Indy500. A rash decision, but the further away from Monaco the better. Your connections at Arrow McLaren gave you the chance to get a closer look at the inner workings of the team, had you momentarily forgetting about Charles. You wanted to be an engineer, not the girlfriend of a driver. You told yourself to get it together.

But then you returned home and seeing the slippers you had bought for Charles had you wondering why you couldn’t be both. You would have been both if he just said something, if he just told you he loved you. 

You should have distanced yourself from Formula 1, at least for a little while. You should have turned down the invitation from a partnering brand of Ferrari, enticing you to come to Spain for the race. You should have flown back to the states, reconnect with Arrow McLaren.

Instead you found yourself in Barcelona. The entire time you were there you knew it was a mistake and if you couldn’t figure that out on your own, seeing Alexandra chat with some Ferrari team members below while you sat up above in the hospitality was a painful reminder. 

Part of you considered talking to her. You wanted to know if she was in the same boat you were- and if she was clueless, maybe give her a heads up that Charles was going to say sweet nothings to her at night only to leave her in the dark. 

But Alexandra wasn’t the one you needed to talk to.

Between practice and qualifying on Saturday, you made your way to the paddock knowing that’s where Charles would be. You walked past Alexandra chatting to someone a few motorhomes down, so you felt better knowing she wasn’t currently with him.

Luck would have it, you ran into Mark outside of Ferrari. He invited you in of course, always happy to chat about the sport with someone who appreciated it on the same level and you assured him you would, you just had to talk to Charles first.

You knocked on the door of his driver's room, not even sure what you were going to say. You were hurt, you were saddened, you were angry but you hadn't had time to think about what you would say to him when you were finally face to face again.

The door swung open and there he was. Shocked to see you, first of all, but not upset. You stood in the hallway and watched as Charles took a breath of relief, a sliver of a smile creeping up on his lips as he held the door open for you to walk in.

Your heart jolted at the idea that maybe, he still wanted you. The look he gave you was almost enough for you to forget he hadn’t said a word to you since you told him you loved him. 

Almost. 

You stepped in and leaned against the door after it shut, keeping a safe distance as he stood back against the massage table. 

Your lips parted, but before you could get a word out, his phone started to ring. You both glanced at the contact, at who was trying to get a hold of him.

Alexandra.

You swallowed, waiting until he let it go to voicemail before your timid voice filled the room. “You love her?”

Maybe Charles didn’t know how to love anyone. You’d believe it, with the way he tensed the second the word passed through your lips. He didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no, either.

“I can’t commit, Y/N.” He tried to say, like that made up for everything. Like that’s the answer you were looking for. 

“No, you can, Charles, but not to me.” You stated, keeping your voice calm. You weren’t one to yell. Causing a scene wasn’t your thing. You were always so soft spoken. Soft spoken, but straight to the facts. “Were you seeing both of us at the same time?”

“She knows, if that's what you're wondering." Charles quickly slid that piece of information in there. “She found out- about us. Threatened to leave me if-”

“If you didn’t choose?” You raised your eyebrows. Once again, his silence spoke volume. “So did you make up your mind before or after Paris?”

Charles averted his gaze for a second, “I realised in Paris I couldn’t love you the way you loved me.”

“You probably realised that a lot earlier,” you pointed out.

Charles must have known you adored him. There was no way he didn’t see the way you looked at him, the way you worshipped him. He knew and still strung you along, making you think he could love you back if you were just patient.

“You didn’t need to lead me on as long as you did, Charles.”

“I didn’t want to lose you.”

I didn’t want to lose you, he says. Bringing light to the fact that he had you. You were his, in a sense. Despite never saying the words out loud. 

But he was never yours.

“So I was there, for what?” You asked. “As a backup? In case things with Alexandra didn’t work out?”

Charles was intimated by how calm you were. He would have preferred if you yelled at him, if you fought with him. It would make it easier on both ends to put whatever this relationship was to rest. Instead, you were serene. You came here to talk, to get answers, you didn’t come here to form a divide. 

Because if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t ready to let go. How could you let go when you hadn’t spoken? He hadn’t given you closure, he didn’t say I don’t love you he just…didn’t say anything. 

You weren’t going to beg for him to come back, but in the far corners of your mind you were hoping that your appearance here would make him question his decision. You were banking on the idea that when he saw you, he’d remember what he saw in the first place when you met in Australia. 

If he changed his mind right now, you’d put all of this behind you. You’d stay at his side, you’d be there for him, you’d be his for real this time.

If he, once again, said nothing, you’d go. You’d go and you’d stay gone.

“I loved you,” you whispered. The past tense striking Charles more than he thought it would, but he didn’t show it. Loved. You loved him, and you still could. 

Thirty seconds passed. Then a minute. Almost two and the only thing that lingered between you was silence. Heavy, loud, painful silence. 

You grabbed the handle of the door and decided enough time had gone on. You deserved better than this, than a man who couldn’t make a decision, than someone who played with your feelings because they couldn’t figure out their own. 

The second you pulled the door back, your name fell from Charles’ lips. You were one step into the hall, halfway to gone, and he stopped you. 

All he had to do was say don’t go. All he had to do was tell you he wanted you. 

With your back still to the Ferrari driver, you waited for those next words but they never came. You knew they wouldn’t. 

That was the last time you spoke to Charles. You knew how to stay true to your word too. 

So why was he suddenly here, six months later, sitting on your couch and looking at you like he was waiting for you to say something first when you made it clear a long time ago if you were gone, you were gone.

Charles only took a sip of his tea before putting it on the coffee table. He then moved the box of Christmas ornaments, not liking the divide it put between you as if he wasn't the one to create the wedge in the first place. 

You were stupid, to speak first, but you were tired of the silence. He came here for a reason and if he wasn’t going to tell you why in the next two minutes, you were going to send him back out into the snow.

“How’s Alexandra?” You asked, not that you were interested in knowing if he was happy or thriving in his relationship. You were, however, impressed to see that he could in fact commit, but you were right about that. He just didn’t want to commit to you. 

“Do you care?” He asked in return. 

You shook your head slightly, “I do not.”

Charles smiled at your honesty. Your gentle tone didn’t match the brutal truth.

“So let’s not talk about her,” Charles said and you nodded in agreement. He shifted in his spot, glancing at the decorations, the tea, really anything but you. 

And you weren’t about to wait again, not if this was going to lead to the one thing your silence always led to. 

You sucked in a breath, “Charles if you don’t tell me why you’re here…”

He nodded, knowing that this was all on him. He was lucky enough to even be allowed into your home, and he knew you were slowly regretting that decision the longer he just didn’t get to the point. 

Charles lifted his head, eyes finally meeting yours. He even flinched, like he was trying to reach for your hand only to decide against it at the last second, relying on just his words for a change.

“I shouldn’t have let you go.”

Part 2 - now that we don’t talk

[nixiefics]

Posses

Pairing: Robb Stark X Silent!Sister Reader

Warnings: Smut, posessive Robb, p in v sex, oral (female receiving), rough sex

Robb Stark winces as you carefully manipulate his leg, guiding his hip back into place with practiced hands. The sharp intake of breath that escapes him when the bone finally clicks into its rightful position tells you just how much pain he’s been enduring. You’ve been a Silent Sister in training for only a short time, but already you’ve seen more suffering than you ever imagined possible. Yet, this man, the Young Wolf, is different. His pain seems to ripple through you as if it were your own.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice strained but genuine. His blue eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you forget the vow of silence you took upon entering your order. You nod in acknowledgment, your fingers still lingering on his hip, feeling the heat of his body through the thin linen of his undergarment.

Days pass, and you tend to Robb’s injuries with unwavering diligence. His recovery is slow, but each day he grows stronger. You watch as he interacts with his men, see the respect and loyalty they have for him. He’s not just their King; he’s their friend, their brother. It’s a bond forged in the fires of battle and tempered by the fairness and justice he shows them.

Grey Wind, his direwolf, is never far from his side. The massive wolf seems to sense your importance to Robb, often watching you with intelligent, piercing eyes. When you approach, Grey Wind’s posture is relaxed, but the unspoken warning is clear: you are under his protection as well.

But it’s not just his men and his direwolf who are drawn to him. You feel an undeniable pull towards Robb Stark. His kindness, his honour, his unwavering dedication to his family and his cause – all of it captivates you. You’ve seen men broken by war, their spirits shattered as surely as their bodies, but Robb remains whole. More than whole, he seems to grow stronger with each passing day, his determination like a beacon in the dark.

One evening, as you’re tending to another soldier’s wounds, you feel his eyes on you. Robb watches from across the camp, his jaw tight, his eyes dark with something you can’t quite name. Jealousy? The thought lingers as you stitch up the gash on the soldier’s arm, your hands steady despite the intensity of Robb’s gaze. Grey Wind is by his side, growling softly, mirroring Robb’s protective feelings.

Later, as you change the dressing on Robb’s hip, he grabs your wrist, his grip surprisingly strong. “You spend too much time with the others,” he says, his voice low and edged with frustration. “I need you with me.”

You look up, startled by the intensity in his eyes. You try to pull away, but his hold tightens. “I don’t want you tending to them,” he says, his voice rough. “I want you by my side. Always.”

You nod, your heart pounding. His possessiveness is startling, but also oddly reassuring. It means he cares, that he values you more than you realized. From that moment on, you are always at his side, tending to his needs, ensuring his recovery. Grey Wind often lies nearby, his presence a constant reminder of Robb’s vigilance even when he cannot be with you.

The other men notice, their eyes following you with curiosity and a hint of envy. Robb’s attention and possessiveness are clear to all, and it changes the dynamic in the camp. No longer just a healer, you are now the woman who has captured the heart of the Young Wolf.

One day, you’re tending to a minor injury on a young soldier when Robb storms into the tent. His face is a mask of barely controlled anger. “Leave us,” he commands the soldier, who scrambles to his feet and exits hastily.

Robb strides over to you, his eyes blazing. “I told you, I don’t want you with them,” he growls, grabbing your hand and pulling you close. “You’re mine.”

You can feel the heat of his breath on your face, the intensity of his emotions crashing over you like a wave. His jealousy is raw, visceral, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You’ve never seen him like this, so consumed by his need for you. Grey Wind stands at his side, his eyes fixed on you, a silent enforcer of Robb’s wishes.

“I can’t stand seeing you with them,” he admits, his voice a harsh whisper. “It tears me apart. You’re the only one who understands me, who makes me feel whole. I need you, only you.”

You reach up, placing a gentle hand on his cheek, feeling the tension in his jaw. You nod, your silent promise to be by his side always. His grip on you softens, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. Grey Wind nudges your leg gently, as if to seal the promise.

In the weeks that follow, Robb’s possessiveness only grows. He keeps you close, his eyes always on you, ensuring that no one else can claim your attention. It’s a fierce, consuming need that drives him, a reflection of the depth of his feelings for you. Grey Wind is never far, his protective presence a constant reminder of the bond you share with Robb.

One night, as you sit by the fire, he pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “You’re mine,” he whispers into your ear, his voice a low growl. “No one else’s. Remember that.”

You nod, your heart swelling with a mixture of love and something darker, more primal. Robb Stark may be the Young Wolf, a fearsome leader and a brilliant strategist, but to you, he is simply Robb – the man who would fight the world to keep you by his side. And as you look into his eyes, you know that you would do the same for him.

One afternoon, you are out gathering herbs when a group of soldiers approaches you. They’re friendly, asking for your help with minor ailments. Before you can respond, Grey Wind appears from the trees, teeth bared, a low growl rumbling from his throat. The soldiers step back, fear evident in their eyes.

You pat his head gently in warning, but the direwolf’s eyes remain fixed on the men until they retreat. When you return to camp, Robb is waiting, his eyes dark with concern and jealousy.

“Were they bothering you?” he asks, his voice tight.

You shake your head, but Robb pulls you into his arms, holding you close. “I don’t want you going out alone anymore,” he says. “Grey Wind will accompany you, or I will.”

You nod, understanding the depth of his worry. His possessiveness is more than just jealousy; it’s a need to protect you, to keep you safe in a world that is anything but. You feel his love in every fierce look, every protective gesture, every time Grey Wind’s eyes follow you like a shadow.

As Robb’s recovery progresses, your bond deepens. He confides in you, shares his fears, his hopes, his dreams. You listen, your silence a balm to his troubled soul. And in those quiet moments, you realize that you’ve found something rare and precious in the midst of war.

Robb’s men see the change in their lord, the lightness in his step, the hope in his eyes. They see the way he looks at you, the way Grey Wind shadows your every move, and they understand. The Young Wolf has found his heart, and it beats for you.

One night, as you sit by the fire, Robb’s arms around you and Grey Wind at your feet, he whispers, “You’re mine, and I am yours. Always.”

You smile, knowing that no matter what the future holds, you will face it together. Robb Stark may be the Young Wolf, a fearsome leader and a brilliant strategist, but to you, he is simply Robb – the man who captured your heart with his honour, his kindness, and his unwavering love. And in his eyes, you see the same love reflected back at you, a bond that no war, no enemy, can ever break.

"You should rest, My King," you say softly. "Let us retire for the evening."

Your words leave him stunned for a moment. You have taken a vow of silence, yet here you are, speaking to him. The surprise in his eyes quickly melts into something deeper, a mixture of relief and gratitude. Robb nods, allowing you to help him up, your hands steadying him as he leans on you for support. Grey Wind shadows your every step, his amber eyes watching protectively.

As you guide Robb towards his tent, the camp around you starts to quiet down. The fires burn low, casting flickering shadows that dance in the night. You can feel the weight of Robb’s gaze on you, the unspoken questions simmering just beneath the surface.

Inside the tent, the atmosphere is warm and intimate. You help Robb ease down onto his furs, his eyes never leaving yours. He reaches for your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. “Why now?” he asks softly, his voice tinged with curiosity and concern. “Why break your vow of silence?”

You take a deep breath, kneeling beside him. “Because I need you to understand,” you begin, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. “My silence was a shield, a way to distance myself from the pain and suffering I witnessed. But with you, it’s different. I can’t remain silent any longer. Not when my heart speaks so loudly.”

Robb’s eyes soften, his hand squeezing yours gently. “What are you saying?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m saying that I want to leave the Silent Sisters,” you declare, your resolve hardening. “But I will only do so if you share my commitment, if you promise that our bond is as strong as I believe it to be.”

Robb’s eyes widen, his surprise evident. He pulls you closer, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You would give up your vows for me?” he asks, his voice filled with awe.

You nod, your heart pounding. “Yes. But only if you promise to be with me, to share this life with me. I cannot leave my order for uncertainty. I need your commitment, Robb.”

Robb’s expression transforms into one of determination. “I promise,” he says firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. “You have my word. I will stand by you, always. You are not just my healer, but my heart. I need you by my side.”

A sense of relief washes over you, and you lean into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace. Grey Wind huffs and trots to settle just outside the entrance to the tent, a silent sentinel watching over you both. For the first time in a long while, you feel a sense of peace and belonging.

Robb cups your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You’ve given me more than just my health,” he whispers. “You’ve given me hope, a future I didn’t dare dream of. I promise you, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, to make you happy.”

Tears of relief and joy well in your eyes as you nod. “And I promise to stand by you, to support you in every way I can,” you vow, your voice filled with emotion.

Robb leans in, his forehead resting against yours. “We will face whatever comes together,” he murmurs. “From this day forward, we are bound by more than just duty. We are bound by love.”

Robb leans in, his forehead resting against yours. “We will face whatever comes together,” he murmurs. “From this day forward, we are bound by more than just duty. We are bound by love.”

His words hang in the air, heavy with promise and certainty. You feel the heat of his breath, the nearness of his lips, and it sends a shiver down your spine. The world around you fades away until there is only Robb—his eyes, his touch, his unwavering gaze that holds you captive.

Slowly, he tilts his head, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a touch. The sensation is electric, a spark that ignites something deep within you. His hands cup your face gently, his thumbs caressing your cheeks with a tenderness that belies the intensity of his emotions.

Then, without warning, the kiss deepens. His lips press against yours with a fervour that takes your breath away. It’s as if he’s pouring all his love, all his passion, into this single moment, and you respond in kind, matching his intensity. Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft, dark strands as you pull him closer.

The kiss is searing, consuming. It feels like the world is burning around you, but all you can focus on is the sensation of his lips on yours, the taste of him, the way his body presses against yours with a desperate need. Every brush of his lips, every flick of his tongue, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

Robb’s hands slide down to your waist, pulling you even closer until there is no space between you. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, mirroring the wild rhythm of your own. His lips leave yours only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, your neck, igniting a trail of fire in their wake.

You gasp, your head falling back as he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that sends a jolt of pure pleasure through you. “Robb,” you whisper, your voice trembling with desire. He responds with a low growl, his hands gripping your hips possessively as he brings his lips back to yours in another fevered kiss.

Time loses all meaning as you lose yourself in him, in the heat of his kiss, the strength of his embrace. The world outside the tent, the war, the uncertainty of the future—all of it fades away until there is only this moment, this man, and the love that binds you together.

Robb’s hands slide down to your waist, pulling you even closer until there is no space between you. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, mirroring the wild rhythm of your own. His lips leave yours only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, your neck, igniting a trail of fire in their wake.

You gasp, your head falling back as he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that sends a jolt of pure pleasure through you. “Robb,” you whisper, your voice trembling with desire. He responds with a low growl, his hands gripping your hips possessively as he brings his lips back to yours in another fevered kiss.

Time loses all meaning as you lose yourself in him, in the heat of his kiss, the strength of his embrace. The world outside the tent, the war, the uncertainty of the future—all of it fades away until there is only this moment, this man, and the love that binds you together.

You're vaguely aware of his fingers at the laces of your dress, tugging impatiently at them. Soon, it seems, he loses all patience and you gasp as he violently rips at the seams of your dress, pushing it over your shoulders and hips with a growl. "On the bed."

You crawl to the middle of the bed of furs, your heart pounding with anticipation as Robb stands before you with a hungry gaze. His possessive nature has always been clear, but now it's different - now, it's thrilling and exciting.

He sheds his own layers first, causing you swallow thickly as his chest is exposed; thick thighs built for fighting but that make you think they might be good for other pleasures as well. And then he is completely bare and you feel your core clench at the sight of his cock. Thicker than it was long, with veins running all along it; the thought of running your tongue over those veins makes your mouth water.

"Gods, you're glorious." you whisper, resisting the urge to chew at your nails.

Robb's calloused hands trace the curves of your body, sending shivers down your spine. His touch is confident and passionate, and you can't help but feel desired under his gaze. His lips find yours, and he kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with a fervour that leaves you breathless.

As he breaks the kiss, his mouth moves to your neck, nibbling and licking the sensitive skin. You moan softly, your fingers tangling in his hair as he continues his assault on your senses. His hands slip under your shift, caressing your breasts with calloused hands. You arch your back, pressing yourself into his touch, wanting more.

Robb takes the hint, his fingers deftly removing your shift and freeing your body to his gaze. His mouth finds your nipples, and he sucks and nips at them, his stubble adding an extra layer of sensation. You gasp, your head falling back as he worships your body.

His hands trail down your body, fingers find your clit, and he begins to rub slow circles, making you moan and writhe beneath him. His other hand joins the first as well, his fingers sliding into your wet pussy. You are more than ready for him.

His head dips between your legs, and his tongue finds your clit. He licks and sucks, his fingers still inside you, curled to hit that perfect spot. You moan louder, your hips bucking as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

Just as you're about to cum, he stops. You look at him, confused, but he just smirks at you. Robb pulls himself to his knees, positioning himself between your legs. He rubs the head of his cock against your clit, making you moan loudly again. He teases you like this for a moment before slowly sliding inside you.

He fills you up, stretching you in the most delicious way. He starts to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you.

Robb's pace quickens, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. You can feel yourself getting close again, and you urge him on. "Harder, Robb, harder," you gasp. He complies, his cock slamming into you, making the bed shake.

You feel yourself on the brink, and then you're cumming, your orgasm ripping through you like a tidal wave. Robb keeps thrusting, drawing out your pleasure until he finally follows you over the edge, filling you up with his cum.

He collapses on top of you, his breathing heavy and ragged. You wrap your arms around him, feeling closer to him than ever before. Robb's possessiveness has always been a part of him, but now, it's something else - it's a sign of his love and devotion to you.

As you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking, you know that this is just the beginning of your journey together. And you can't wait to see where it takes you.

[evilminji]

You know that Post about Danny becoming the False Villian, Expose?

To train all these kids, who are running around with shitty priorities and the self preservation instincts of lemmings? Because they were arrogant. Didn't listen to the concerns of those they "protect". Didn't listen to the concerns of a fellow Hero. So now, they WILL learn, at the hands of a "Villian".

Cause he TRIED pointing things out nicely.

Was met with a brick wall of condescension and dismissal.

THAT post.

You know where he would not only do that, but go APESHIT into it? Because he is a Hero and holy SHIT these kids are gonna get themselves killed? Gonna kill somebody ELSE? Have fucked up priorities and live in a fucked up system they do not even question?

Boku No Hero Academia.

Why the FUCK are you posing for the cameras? Why the absolute FUCK are you beating that man down on the worst day of his life, instead of TALKING him down? Why are you jumping too conclusions and splitting up and playing for the crowds? Why. The ABSOLUTE AND UNFORGIVING FUCK do you seem to ASSUME that every innocent soul, that doesn't look default generic human, is the AGGRESSOR in every situation you arrive at?!

Danny would have a conniption. Just a full body rage seizure, as his Ghost-y lil brain LIT UP with the BURNING NEED to fix everything, everywhere, at once. Right. Now.

But do they listen?

Ha!

Cool, cool cool cool cool..... he's gonna burn the entire country dow- No! That way lies Dan! Breathe, Fenton. Just.... Breathe. You can fix this.

The older ones may be set in their ways, but the younger ones are still learning. They can get better. BE better. They're kids. They just need opportunities to grow. And they WANT to be Heros, right? All he has to do is show them HOW. Poke their weak spots and point out their mistakes.

He can do that!

And just? Out of NO WHERE? This foreign villian decends upon Japan? What's worse, seeming to TARGET HEROS STUDENTS. Young, just debuted, Heros. Everyone freaks out. Older Heros closing rank, where they can, to try and Protect These Kids(tm).

But they can't be everywhere at once.

And this menace? Seemingly CAN be. Can make copies of himself. Use Ice. Fly. Energy beams. Intangiblity. Invisibility! What monster are they DEALING with?! That plays the flamboyant fool, dispensing deadly peril, only to then turn around, and in chilling sobriety absolutely destroy seasoned heroes?

That LECTURES them while doing it.

He's undermining the people's faith in the system!

(But should they have faith in it? Doesn't he have good points? Aren't they getting stronger, faster, better heroes for facing him? Where did he come from? Hasn't anyone else noticed that not a single civilian has gotten hurt, at his hands? That he annihilates any true villians foolish enough to think he's on their side?)

(How many "thugs" and "minor villians" have these guys not noticed, they wonder, who have just... disappeared. Come into contact with this guy and then? Stopped. Turned up somewhere else, weeks later, healthy again. Smiling with illegal lifestyle support gear, a new job, a new life, and better future. Finally free of the violence.)

Amity may be at peace by the time Danny turns 20(-ish? Maybe? Is he? Clockwork! How old IS he? You've sent him on so many of your weird timebend-y missions he lost count!). But? Danny is a Heroic Protector Spirit. His Obsession has demands. And his Human sides Space Obsession will never really be quite strong enough to support him.

You know, since it can't die.

Just because it HAS a Soul aspect to it, doesn't mean it'll ever come into practical use. So? The more powerful Heroic instincts it is! And honestly, he wasn't even planning to STAY. Just check the place out. You know, compare his options. But... *twitch*

They Are Doing It Wrong.

So now he lives here!

.....it's awful! They don't even have any space exploration! No studying, no stars, no futuristic moon base! Nothing! And he doesn't even SPEAK Japanese! In human form? He has no idea what anyone is saying! At least the Sorta-But-Not skeleton Ghost guy across the hall is helping. Dude might be taller then his DAD. Seriously ecto-starved though. It's like he somehow GAVE all his body's ecto to someone else!

How's he supposed to heal like that?! Guy really needs to learn how to take care of himself.

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @lolottes @nerdpoe @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙚 | 🔞 Main Work

He's one of the best, no race too tough to handle, every track a new challenge he takes on- especially when it's you who's waiting at the finish line for him.

Tags/Warnings: Racer!Jungkook, established relationship, romance, suggestive themes, heavy flirting, adult content, mentions of online hate, only minor angst, they're a power couple, this MC is now my spirit animal, smut

Length: ~5k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

A/N: I know nothing about actual car racing. Pls don't take it too seriously, thanks haha 💗

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

"But be real here-" A fellow driver asks, sitting down at the side now to pick up a water bottle. "-I always wondered, are you like, actually a couple?" He asks, taking a sip of his water, replenishing what he's sweat out during the training session with Jungkook and the other drivers.

Jungkook sighs to himself, before he gets into a sitting position, tapping the timer on his phone to a stop. He gets these questions a lot- whether or not you're in if for the right reasons, how good your pussy must be to have him put up with your annoying attitude all the time, or how someone like him isn't hooking up with models and actresses left and right. He's not sure why it's such an outrageous thing apparently to have a stable relationship, but somehow, if he just went by what magazines and online gossip-blogs report, it's apparently absolutely unthinkable to be in a normal loving relationship in his position.

But he is. And he intends to keep it that way for as long as you'll have him.

He loves you, dearly so. Your 'bad habits' and flaws are just as endearing to him as the rest of you, mainly because you were also there when he was just starting out, bank account almost always empty at every end of the month, rent barely being paid. You stayed even when he was at his lowest, you cheered him on when he won his first major race, and you consistently keep supporting him at every event you can. And to him, you're prettier than any model he could ever come across anyways.

"We're an actual couple indeed." Jungkook affirms, locking his phone before he screws open a plastic bottle of water himself.

"But like, isn't it a bit disappointing sometimes?" Jake asks him. "Like, I heard you never go to afterparties, and if you do it's always with her. You could have anyone, man." He laughs.

"You'll get there too, maybe." Jungkook chuckles simply, when the door opens, and familiar jingles of jewelry make him smile to turn around- and there you are, meeting his eyes with a smile, as he instantly moves to stand up.

"I bought you all your favorite snacks, and there's like, one of those electrolyte drinks there too." You say after pecking his lips with your strawberry flavored lipbalm, putting the white plastic bag into his hands. "You're not overdoing it, right?" You ask, and he grins, shaking his head.

"I'm almost finished anyways. You wanna wait up here? We can go back to the hotel together then." He asks you, gently pulling your hair out of your long earrings where some of it had gotten tangled. You let him, and wait for him to lean back as a sign that he's finished, before you answer.

"If it's not too much of a bother? There's already a bunch of paparazzi outside, I think someone might've leaked your location online.." You tell him, and he grows serious at that.

"Then you'll wait. I don't want you going back to the hotel alone if they're outside." He tells you now, not giving you another option. He remembers the last time you almost got mobbed at the airport, simply because you flew out the country a day after he did- and of course it created rumors and the wildest theories as to why that might've been the case. It's what happens to him constantly due to his status as the 'hottest race driver of his generation'.

One magazine reported that you apparently have been spotted fighting by someone at a restaurant, and that that could explain why you had sunglasses on during the airport walk- because you two probably broke up, and your eyes must've been swollen from crying. In reality, you always wore shades or shielded your eyes, because you're sensitive to the camera lights and the masses of people make you anxious, so you always try and blur them out somewhat.

Another online forum speculated that you two definitely broke up, and that it was long coming, because the hate must've gotten to you finally. That there's just no way you both could've ever worked out, and that it was just pushed by your parents so you'd have the most comfortable life imaginable. Your father allegedly introduced you to Jungkook at a press conference, which made Jungkook laugh.

True, your parents know each other- but only because you're a couple, and obviously became closer over the years of dating. It didn't make sense that you both just became a couple so you'd have it easy, when he's mentioned multiple times that you both have been dating for way longer than the span of his career.

And then, that one gossip site that pushed the narrative that he cheated on you at the last afterparty. That there's images from the event where he can be seen with a woman with long dark hair that's definitely not you, and that you most likely found out and kicked him out- and just flew out to start a new life in a different country.

That one made him angry.

The woman he'd been seen with was Mingyu's mother- his best friend whom he'd helped out the burning wreck of his car after he'd crashed into the side barriers. She'd simply been there to thank him, and he'd hugged her just as a way of reassuring her that he'd always be there for any of his teammates, no matter what. And that specific website constantly stirred up cheating allegations- either at him, or you, it didn't matter. Clearly edited photos, alleged video evidence that didn't even show you both at all, it was stupid, really.

He's lucky that you don't instantly believe anything you see. Up until now, you always confronted him first if there was anything you were concerned about. And you trusted him, just as much as he trusted you.

Finishing up his workout, he takes the towel you offer with a thanks, deciding to ignore Jake's stares at your tits for now, since it doesn't appear to bother you at all. And honestly, he can understand. They do look great.

And they feel even better- but that's only for him to know.

The moment you both exit the gym they're all there- and he instantly moves you slightly behind him to properly shield you from anyone trying to reach out to you, which has happened often enough before to make him now hyperaware of it. But you somehow make it into the car waiting to take him back to the hotel without anything happening- though the questions hurled at you both from every side do annoy him to high heavens.

Jungkook are you still together?

Jungkook did you both talk things out?

Jungkook did you really cheat on her?

Jungkook-

"Jungkook." You ask him, and he moves his head to you now. "I asked you if we wanted to take a bath at the hotel? The tub is huge!" You beam at him, and at the sight of you all genuinely happy and carefree, he smiles, nodding, before he takes your hand to hold.

As long as you're still there, everything's fine.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

"Oh god-" You breath out, hand in his hair while he's gripping your thighs over his shoulders to keep them open.

Your panties are still hanging from one of your ankles, toes curled as he licks and swallows over your core, orgasm rapidly approaching you as he places a teasing kiss to your sensitive pearl. He moves around with ease, slips out of his pants rather quickly before he pushes your legs towards you once more, aligning himself with your entrance after lubing himself up shamelessly with your arousal he's gathered with his hand.

He doesn't need to rid you of any clothes- he's done that already.

You always joke that the secret to your happy relationship is back-breaking sex and good cooking- but sometimes, you actually believe it.

It's his main way of relieving stress- he's told you as much before. And he also enjoys the more romantic and sensual aspects of it, the closeness to you, and the knowledge that it's something special just between the two of you. It's always a little playful, unserious, light and relaxing, especially afterwards- the shared afterglow you both experience always something special where you both reconnect and bond once more. It's like you grow closer every time you're together like this.

Even though, according to him, that's impossible.

"Gonna.. wanna take you to the movies..!" He grits out, leaning back while while he holds your legs by the backs of your knees, thrusting his hips steadily into you. "Ah, fuck.."

"Can I- can I choose?" you giggle in pleasure, hands over your head grabbing the pillows while he watches your chest swing in the rhythm of his pace.

"Hm, I don't know.." He mumbles, leaning over you now after letting go of your legs to peck your cheek. "What do you wanna watch?" He wonders, before mouthing at your neck.

"Right now?" You hum dreamily, closing your eyes at the sensations of it all. "Wanna watch you." You say, and he chuckles against your skin, hands next to your head steadying him as he slows down a bit to a more sensual rhythm, though he presses himself deeper at the same time, making you arch your back as your legs hook together over his back.

"You're so cute." He teases, one of his hands moving to run over your chest, playfully smacking one of them once to earn a squeak from you- and laughter from him.

"Kook-!" You whine, and he mimics your tone a little, before his hand moves over your body between your legs where you're currently connected, fingers toying around with you. "Yes-!" You beg, thighs pressing together against his body, before you reach your high, muscles twitching from the feeling, while he becomes a bit more erratic now with your core clenching around his length.

He cums a little afterwards, pulling out before he spills his seed over your lower abdomen, the sight always doing something to him.

"You know, I really wanna go to that premiere that I was invited to with you." He says after taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair, getting up after leaning over you to peck your lips twice- because once is never really enough for him.

"Heh, you know I'll always be at your side if you want me there." You sing-song, stretching your limbs while he turns on the water in the bathtub, door open to be able to hear you. "So, if you wanna take me, of course I'll be your arm-candy!" You chirp, and he smiles as he returns with some babywipes in his hands to wipe down your skin.

"I always want you at my side." He tells you gently, careful with the rather cold wipes on your skin. "And I'm glad you're still willing to put up with me and this whole thing." He shrugs, throwing the tissues away in the trashcan.

"Why wouldn't I?" You wonder up at him as he hooks his hands underneath your back and legs to carry you into the bathroom of the hotel room you're staying at, to help you into the tub.

"Why would you?" He sighs, getting into the tub as well, unscrewing the small bottle of soap offered by the hotel to pour it into the water. "I sometimes really wonder how.. strong you must be to just constantly put up with all the things said about you and me." He says, pulling you closer to him as the bubbles form with the water pouring in. "…I was really scared, you know." He mumbles onto your skin before he kisses your shoulder.

"Of what?" You ask, unsure.

"When the rumor spread of me cheating. I always.. get worried you might become doubtful of me when things like these are said." He admits to you, before you turn around in his arms, his hands immediately on your hips.

"I'm not worried though." You simply tell him, running your hands through his hair before they settle around his neck. "I trust you." You shrug, and he moves his hands up to hold your cheeks, pulling you closer to kiss you until you giggle, pushing against his pecks to get him away. "Kook no-" You laugh, but he whines.

"But I want to love my girlfriend!" He complains.

"You just did!" You argue back, and he plays with his lip rings for a second.

"But you deserve more." He purrs, trying a little more.

"And my pussy needs a break!" You respond back, making him laugh. This is why he loves you so much- why he loves your relationship so much. Living with you is easy, it's relaxing, it's light and it takes his mind off of all the worries he has.

Because when he's with you, it's like none of it matters. He can just fall into your arms and trust you to catch him every single time.

And you do. Just like right now, as you kiss him until the water cools down, and the bubbles are all gone.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

Something he's never really told you is the amount of people trying to get to you- through him of all people.

Mainly because everyone still somewhat believes the most common rumor that you're just a sugar baby kind of situation- that you're up for anyone, as long as the numbers fit your standards. It's infuriating really, makes his blood boil because what else does he have to do to make people take you both seriously? It's not even just the fact that they apparently don't take him seriously as your partner- but that they really think you'd be someone to use others for money, just because you're not the quiet sweet person in the background who they can bully around.

But he has a plan. Foolproof, really, and he's wanted to do that this year anyways.

"I need my good-luck-kiss.." He teases, keeping you close to him.

"Well if we had enough time I'd give you the whole good-luck-menu, but you gotta go get ready now." You giggle while he bites at your neck.

"Not yet.." He complains, already in his overalls, helmet on the bench close by. You're hiding behind a corner like schoolkids attempting not to get caught skipping class, and he admits that you both do this a lot. He just can't get enough, and today especially, he just wants to make sure the cameras can see his marks on you, and know that they're his. "Will you watch the race?" He asks, and you giggle.

"Of course. I always do." You promise, and he grins, before he pecks your lips one last time, finally getting ready.

You're standing in the VIP spots, watching closely how he starts the race, seemingly a bit behind. But he's pushy, he always is, competitiveness not letting him lose without a fight. And fighting he does, quickly catching up as he squeezes past several other competitors, making your pulse rise quite a bit. Truth be told, you always worry- especially after his friend's last accident that you witnessed that day. The race had been interrupted because of it, and had been decided to be re-started at a later date once Mingyu had fully recovered.

He only sustained minor injuries, cracked a rib and a minor concussion, but nothing else. But the sight of the car will stay in your head for quite a while.

You have nightmares, sometimes. Of Jungkook being in a wreck like that, flames swallowing his broken body whole, and you can't do anything to save him. That's most likely the biggest reason you're always a little on edge whenever he drives. You know he's a good driver, of course he is- but still. You can't help but worry.

Not that you'll ever tell him. He doesn't need about something stupid like that.

It's not even half an hour in, and a black flag is waved at a blue car lagging behind. There's smoke coming from the back wheels- so he's asked to leave the tracks and drive into his pit box, which he promptly does to get his vehicle inspected. It seems to be a more serious issue however- because the announcer suddenly explains that the racer named Jake Pitcher won't return to the tracks.

Time passes by, and the race goes on without much interruption. Everyone follows the rules, flags are waved left and right to navigate things happening, and your eyes occasionally lose sight of the mainly red and black hyundai Jungkook is driving, though you always find him again at the very top, leading the race. It's after the second pit stop that a driver in a sky-blue Toyota is becoming visibly more aggressive, especially towards Jungkook.

It's alright to be a bit pushy, you've learned that that's the norm- but this guy is putting other drivers in danger with just how close he's pressing himself against Jungkook's back and another's side.

But this is the sport. It's an aggressive one, and the rules about how to race are pretty grey.

Someone crashes, a yellow and green racecar you've seen earlier. The vehicle spins on the ground in donuts a few times before it comes to a stop on the grass, and the team is visibly running around to sort things out. It's announced that the driver is awake and alert, and doesn't seem injured- and the car is towed safely away, one lane closed until everything is cleared once more, caution in place for now causing everyone to slow down a little until the track is cleared again.

Jungkook had crashed before. Multiple times, even. He's cracked ribs, bruised his body, broken bones. Never anything too serious- but enough to remind you every time how dangerous his career is. You hate that side of it, and sometimes you really wish he would just call it quits- but you also understand that he's passionate about this, that this is his dream.

You'll always remember his worst crash- the way his car had flown through the air rolling around like it was nothing but a toy, front wheels almost pulled off entirely- and your fear inside your bones as it took him ages it felt like to climb out of the wreck, surprisingly unscathed, only bruised badly in some spots.

He was on a stretcher that day, a safety precaution even though he turned out mostly fine. You remember not even having the energy to scold him in hospital, crying at his side for hours it felt like until he'd managed to calm you down enough, his laugh teasing as he'd helped you wipe off your ruined makeup before going back to the hotel later to sleep- your body even clingier than ever before.

It's his fourth pit stop. Things are looking good- this time the car seems to be holding up a lot better than last time when he only made the third place, and the commenters seem to recognize that too. Jungkook is the only one bringing a car of his type on the track after all- it's basically the talk of town every time he participates. He went from being a joke to a true competitor nowadays- finally being taken seriously on the tracks, and you know Jungkook relishes in the feeling of it.

He loves to win, after all. Even if it's just the respect of others.

Suddenly, something happens in the front. The toyota pushes too hard, too far to the side, and it breaks the current leader completely into the barriers as the car loses control, dragging several cars with him- And as your eyes search for the familiar red and black car with white font written all over it, you find it.

There's a lot of smoke, several cars unable to continue, a driver exits his own on the grassy spot in the middle, throwing his helmet in frustration. Jungkook's car is scratched, badly, a slight crack in front, but he's still driving- seemingly having escaped with nothing but some minor damage. He's slowed down just like everyone else now, entire track under major caution as the damage to a lot of other car's is being inspected, several people now left out with their cars damaged too hard to compete any longer.

Jungkook seems just a bit out of breath from the shock from what you can see on the screens, now in the pit box where tape is placed over a break in the front over the scratches, car being refueled and inspected just to make sure. He gives a thumbs up when asked if he's alright- a nod given to other questions. According to a commenter, he's asking for any serious injuries in other drivers- but there are none, so he's reassured that everyone's alright and up walking around.

Caution is lifted, green flag waved. The fight is back on, speed increasing as they once more go back full force, pushing and mixing up the order in which they're making their way towards the finish line.

It's the last stretch now, and things are getting clearly heated on the tracks. From clear pushing to forceful passing, scratches and bumps can probably be found on every car after this race is done. There's a fight happening now, and Jungkook is not backing down from anyone- now doubling down, and pressing himself towards the front. He's not as impolite as some other drivers further back, but he still bites, clearly so- currently passing another car, the white flag waved as he presses himself against his competitor.

One round left.

You can practically feel the tension now, pulse racing just as quickly as his car drives as he pushes himself further and further up front. He's in second place. That's most likely the spot he'll make.

Or?

It's almost in the last second it seems like when he manages to outrun the Chevrolet he's been pushing against next to- the black and white checkered flag waved, Jungkook's name being called as everyone cheers.

He made it. His team cheers- but you're frozen in time.

Because this is also a win for you, every singe time. Your prize is the fact that he's unscathed, that he's okay, that nothing happened. Fireworks light up the sky, when suddenly, he turns the car, covers the track in white smoke from his wheels, a full on spin one of his by now signature winning gestures.

His team runs towards him, pulls down the window gate to congratulate him as he climbs out, pulling his gloves off before he takes off his helmet and climbs on the roof of his car, clearly excited over the win. The interview is easy, as he answers questions thanks his team, before he becomes nervous, visibly, shaking his hands a little. "You still seem rather emotional from the race!" The interviewer jokes, and Jungkook nods, before he runs a hand over his face, bracing himself it seems like.

"Yeah that too, but uh- I made myself a little challenge too, you know?" He laughs. "I promised myself if I won this race, I'd.. do something I've been chickening out of for quite a while now." He explains, and you become a bit nervous now, unsure what he's trying to say. You're making your way down now to where his team is too, now closer and in sight as Jungkook grins to himself.. almost shy?

A member of his crew gives him something, and you become suspicious when he walks towards you now, because that stupid grin he has on his face just spells trouble in bold capital letters.

"You put up with so much shit, you know?" Jungkook tells you over the sound of people cheering and the commentator telling the crowd what's happening- everyone now curious. "You really do- and I don't think there's anyone out here in this world that can really love me like you do." He offers, and you laugh to yourself. "Don't laugh! I'm serious!" He complains, making some crewmembers laugh. "Either way, I might've won the race, but do you know what prize I'd really like instead?" He wonders, before he moves to drop to one knee.

"You, as my wife." He tells you, slightly dirty black box containing a ring.

And suddenly, the world seems to quiet down entirely as you nod, watching in fascination as he puts the ring on your finger in front of thousands.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

"Jungkook you're speeding!" You whine as he laughs in the driver's seat, sunglasses shielding his eyes from the weather.

"Babe I'm actually way below the limit, what're you talking about?" He chuckles, always a little amused by the irony of your fear of him driving- him, a professional racecar driver. "It's an RV, not a racecar. Relax a bit." He says, taking your hand to kiss the back of it before he continues to hold it.

He's taking some time off- spending a vacation in europe with you, having rented an RV for some quality camping that he's always wanted to do with you. Now that his relationship status had been officially upgraded so to speak, rumors have died down- the thrill seemingly left now that he's made it more than clear that he's taking it seriously with you, even though he always has.

"Still, can't you drive a bit slower?" You worry, and he shakes his head.

"No can do darling. But we only have half an hour to go anyways, so we're almost there." He tells you.

"Half an hour can feel like a lifetime though.." You pout quietly, and at that, he runs his thumb over the back of your hand.

"Were you scared when they all crashed?" He asks, and you nod.

"I searched for your car right away. You can't believe how I felt when I saw you come through that cloud of smoke and car-parts almost unharmed." You whine. "I hate that I'm always so scared. I don't want you to feel bad when you drive-" You worry, and he laughs.

"You're not making me feel bad, don't worry." He shakes his head. "I can understand how hard that must be to watch though. Just like I said, I'll never understand how you put up with me and my shit." He offers, and you shrug.

"I don't know either." You huff. "You constantly bully me." You complain.

"I don't bully you!" Jungkook argues scandalized.

"You constantly make fun of my height, and you laugh when I'm scared, and you slap my ass in front of everyone no matter who!" You say, and he shrugs.

"It's a nice ass, what can I say?" He defends himself, making you glare at him. "Hey come on, you can't possibly blame me, you slap my ass too!" He argues back to you.

"That's cause you deserve it!" You respond.

"And you don't?" He wonders.

"Absolutely not. I'm an angel!" You state, and he laughs theatrically.

"You might get down on your knees regularly but you're not a saint-" He jokes, making you roll your eyes. "-see? And a brat too.!" He teases.

"Yeah well if you're not nice to me I won't suck your dick for the entire trip." You threaten. "Not even once." You state, making him pout playfully.

"Not even the tip?"

"Won't even touch your balls." You respond, and he whines.

"Oh no! Anything but that!" He complains, finally driving towards the entrance of the camping spot. "What do I have to do to gain back the sacred touch of my soon-to-be-wife?" He asks, having parked the RV now, and taken off his glasses.

"..you can start by giving her a nice kiss." You tell him. "But a good one. With feelings and all- the whole menu." You demand, and at that he leans over the middle, careful not to touch anything and cause an accident, pulling you closer by your neck.

"Well-" He smiles warmly at you. "-that's easy."

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

"So how have you always dealt with all the hate and rumors about you both? That must've been pressuring!" A paparazzi asks you as you stand right next to your by now husband, who's just made the second place in his latest race.

"Oh, I just look at him naked to remind myself why it's all worth it in the end!" You beam happily at them, Jungkook laughing loudly next to him.

Yeah- you're really one of a kind.

And he doesn't mind spending the rest of his life with you.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

[mead-iocre]

Ducky Turn! | Vivianne Miedema x Reader

You watched as Viv walked into the press conference room, trailing slightly behind Jonas. She was chatting animatedly to Connie, one of the Arsenal staff, and holding a reusable coffee tumbler in one hand. You also know that inside that tumbler is Viv’s favourite coffee "Morning Bliss," a small-batch, artisanal coffee roaster that you had bought from one of the local coffee shops in your area. She would sometimes bring a small bag of coffee beans to training or match days, and when you would ask her where she’ll find supplies to make the coffee, she’ll reply back with a“if there’s a will, there’s a way”. It’s become the only brand of coffee that Viv drinks.

Every morning, Viv likes to indulge herself in what she calls her “ritual”. The dutch begins her ritual by carefully measuring out the perfect amount of Morning Bliss beans. She prefers a medium roast, with notes of caramel and toasted almonds that allow the perfect balance of sweet to the bitter. She would grind the beans to perfection and then use the fancy sleek, stainless steel drip coffee maker that she had treated herself to a few months ago. As she waits for the brewing to complete, she would bask in the stillness and the quiet that is a rarity these days– or at least during the last 3 years. 

Viv would then pour herself a cup, inhaling deeply as the steam rises and the aroma fills the empty kitchen. As she takes that first sip of her perfectly brewed coffee, Viv could not help but smile. For her, starting the day than with a cup of her favourite coffee is the second best thing to start the day. The first is–

She hears the pitter patter of little feet before she sees her. 

“Mama!”

Evelyn, or Evie for short, is the best parts of you and Viv. Everyone says Evelyn is a spitting image of you—from the blonde curls that tumble down her back in unruly waves, to her vibrant hazel eyes, flecked with hints of green and gold. Evelyn has your nose, petite and slightly upturned, and dotted with the same freckles across her cheeks that Viv loves to kiss every night before bed. 

You say it’s too early to tell what kind of person your daughter will grow up to be, but you swear she’s Viv's mini me. They both have the same stubbornness (although Viv would argue you were also a contender), the same outgoing personality, and the same sheer curiosity for the world around her. Like you, your little girl is always eager to explore new places and try new things. Whether it's taking the dogs out on new hiking trails, or embarking on a family camping trip, her adventurous spirit knows no bounds.

During her ballet class, Evelyn loves to wear colourful ribbons and bows in her hair. She keeps the same ribbons in her hair during football practice too. When she laughs, her nose crinkles up in the most adorable way, just like Viv. She loves to burst into a song or hum the tune of her favourite music, just like you do. She is your pride and joy, and your greatest accomplishment in life.

But she is also a whirlwind of energy that leaves a trail of chaos and laughter in her wake wherever she goes.

Viv recognises that gleam in Evie’s eyes and the furrow in her eyebrows as she glances at the last two steps leading to the kitchen.

Her daughter was going to jump.

Viv hastily puts her cup down and lurches forward, catching the tornado that is her child. There is not a day that goes by where Viv does not thank her athleticism for being able to keep up with her little daredevil. 

She grasps her fearless little girl under her arms just before she can land the short distance to the ground. “Mama, Ducky jump!”

“I saw that, Ducky” She settles Evelyn on her hip, pressing a few kisses to her rosy cheek still warm from sleep. “But I’d rather not see that again. How many times have I told you you can’t jump from there”

“But I jump, Mama. Like a duck jumping in water!” Ducks are the little girl’s latest fixation– she loves going to the pond to watch the ducks, she loves to talk about ducks, she loves her duck stuffed animals etc. Viv thinks your daughter’s fascination with ducks was inevitable. When Evelyn was born, she was sweetly bundled in a light yellow blanket with a matching yellow beanie to warm her little head. Your private midwife briefly commented about how Evelyn little lips were constantly pursed in a pout whenever she slept, like that of a little duckling. Ever since then, “Ducky” became one of her nicknames.

Evelyn points one little chubby finger towards the kitchen counter where a plate of bite-sized waffles await her. 

“Waffles!” 

Viv snags the plate of waffles off the counter and deposits her duck-obsessed child into her booster chair. She hands her a fork and takes a seat on the chair right beside her. “Waffles yellow– like duckies, Mama!” 

Viv smiles endearingly at her daughter, all cherubic face and bouncy curls. “Just like duckies, Evie” 

——————————

Now at the press conference, you watch as Viv and Jonas take their seats in front of the press, politely saying a few greetings to some familiar faces. Viv’s eyes meet yours briefly and she offers you a quick wink. 

Jonas leans forward in his seat and starts the press. “Hello, everyone. Let’s get this started then– I’ve got Vivianne Miedema with me today”

Being married to a footballer had it’s perks– free match tickets, the cool events, club merchandise, and the occasional Adidas billboards of your wife which your daughter loves to excitedly point out every time she spots one. However, sometimes it seems not everyone understands the difference between the Viv, the mum and wife, versus Vivianne Miedema, the footballer. 

“Everyone” being your toddler. 

She still hasn’t fully grasped the fact that her Mama can’t be on her beck and call, especially while she is at work. At the age of 3, she can’t tell the difference between the football that she plays at school and the football that her Mama plays. To her, it’s exactly the same. 

After all, during her football practice if she looks to the sidelines where the other mummies and daddies are watching and yells for her Mama, her Mama will come running. In Evie’s mind, if she wants Mama, she’ll go to Mama. 

You glance down at the little girl tucked in your arms. She was all buzz and energy throughout the match, crawling from lap to lap, jumping, dancing and shouting. It was no surprise that she was starting to doze off now. You were standing off to one side of the room, leaning against the wall to support the weight resting on your front. Evie was curled up in your arms, her eyes tiredly blinking open and closed a few times. Her tiny body was limp in your arms, her breath was evening out, and just like when she first came into this world, her little rosy lips were formed into a pout.

Just like a little duckling.

But despite your soft whispers to try to and lull her to sleep, your stubborn child was determined to fight the pull of slumber. You knew she wanted to see her Mama, just as she always did after a match. It was their routine, and Evie hated breaking routines. 

“First question for Jonas…” You tune out the press for a brief moment, reaching out to adjust the yellow noise cancelling headphones that were slipping off of Evelyn’s head when all of a sudden she opens her eyes and sits up in your arms. You didn’t have to guess what had woken up your child when you hear it. “– now a question for Viv Miedema…”

What was once a sleepy and tired toddler is now gone. In it’s place is a little girl who has realised her favourite person is in the room. Her eyes were now bright and alert, craning her neck to follow the sound of her mama’s voice booming from the speakers around the room. 

“…don't really think I celebrate goals but all the girls came up to me and they were taking the mick out of me because they were like 'You were actually celebrating’–“

You should’ve anticipated it. You should’ve know it. But by then it was too late.

“Mama!” 

Your daughter yells for Viv, lurching forward with her arms open and fingers pointing towards where Viv was sitting at the front of the room. You had no choice but to crouch down so you could stead your suddenly wiggly child. 

“Ducky, that’s enough��� You speak in a hushed but firm tone. You knew that if you were to use your “Mummy voice” it would likely result in tears, and your daughter was not a quiet crier. “Mama is working right now”

But Evie was very determined to get to her mama, hastily trying to tug away from your hold on her arm. You knew heads were turning towards the both of you.

“Want Mama!” 

“Evelyn–“ You try to hug her, wanting to pick her up and run out of the room before she causes anymore distractions. Right now she was the epitome of an incoming toddler tantrum. Her chest heaved with each shaky breath, her small shoulders rising and falling with the weight of her emotions. Her cheeks flushed pink with frustration, and her fists clenched at her sides. 

“No no no no!” Her favourite word as of late and she was proudly demonstrating that she knew just how to use it. "No NO!"

Her big, doe-like eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Her bottom lip quivered as she stood cocooned in your arms, but furiously squirming away from your hold. In your daughter’s mind, being told that she can’t go to her Mama right now was the most devastating thing in the world, and the injustice of it all was threatening to overwhelm her.

“–Liefje” 

You look up as the sound of your wife’s voice and the familiar nickname echos around the room through the microphone. You crane your neck and you spot her now standing up from her chair, holding the mic to her mouth. She gives you a knowing smile. Viv always knows what to do.

“I’ll take her, Liefje. Give her to me” Viv waves a hand, beckoning you both closer. 

You pick up your still teary, pouty daughter and hoist her up to your hip. You walk the short distance towards the front of the room where Viv and Jonas are waiting. 

“Looks like Mama wants you, ducky” You murmur softly in Evie’s ear, pushing the curls of hair away from her eyes. Like a switch, your daughter perks up in your arms, twisting her head towards where you were heading. You could feel her little legs kicking the air in excitement. What a mood switch. 

You stop by the side of the small stage, placing Evie on her feet and quickly grab her hairband that was in your pocket. “Wait one second, Ducky. Let’s fix your hair.” There were cameras around and you would imagine that 10 years from now, your daughter will never forgive you if you let her stand in front of the cameras with a bird nest on top of her head. 

The hairband dangled from your fingers as you attempted to tame Evie’s unruly locks into a neat ponytail. But your daughter was having none of it. She wriggled, clearly eager to get to her Mama, as she batted your hands away.

And like always, Viv knew just what to do to keep your daughter from fussing. Temporarily. “Hi Ducky”

“Mama!” Chuckles round the room when mother and daughter exchanged waves of greetings to each other as if they hadn’t seen each other for days when in reality it had only been a few hours. 

You sighed, a hint of amusement twinkling in your eyes as you gently combed through Evie’s hair with your fingers. “Almost done" you coaxed, your voice gentle and patient as you worked to wrangle your little girl’s wayward curls. You settled on just pushing the front pieces of hair away from her eyes with the hairband. “All done. Now you can go to Mama” 

Evie did not need to be told twice. 

Her little legs pumped furiously and her curly hair bounced behind her. She ran around the table, past Jonas’ chair, to where Viv was standing waiting for her. Viv swings her daughter up to her hip and you watch as Viv leans close to whisper by her ear– most likely prompting Evie to greet the journalists and cameras. Your suspicions were confirmed when your little social butterfly happily waves a hand and bellows a little “hello!”

Your smile widens when her greeting is echoed by all the journalists, some waving back just as eagerly as your toddler. 

Viv then proceeds to sit back down, placing Evie on her lap. Your wife adjusts her chair and shuffles closer to the mic. “Sorry for that everyone…” 

She gestures to the toddler who is currently conspiring with the Arsenal manager. “This one is going through a phase where I am her favourite person, and I’m making the most of it until she realises her Mummy is more fun than me” 

Laughter rings around the room, but all you give the grinning dutch at the table is an eye roll. You know Evie loves you, but her bond with Viv was something special. Evelyn is Viv’s little shadow. 

One of the journalists kindly gestures for you to take the seat next to him in front row of the table and you thank him as you take a seat. 

“Right then. Let’s continue…” Jonas starts the press again, and this time, your toddler is happily sitting on her Mama’s lap. 

———————————-

So far the press is continuing on as normal. Journalists are prepared with questions for Viv and Jonas. “My question is for Viv.” You crane your neck to see a journalists a few rows behind you hold a hand up. “You have broken countless records in England. Arsenal literally put you on a pedestal with a temporary statue outside the Emirates Stadium, a first for a female player. Do things like that matter?” Viv leans forward towards the mic. “No not at all. I’ve already had five great years but I indicated to the club that we have to do better. Other players have done that too. Hopefully the club can bring in some reinforcements this summer– 

“AH!” Evie leans up, her little head nearly clashing into her Mama’s chin if it weren’t for Viv’s reflexes, and speaks directly into the mic. She giggles when it echos back. 

You wince as the mic feedback rings loudly in the room. 

“–Ducky, this mic is not for you. Mama’s trying to answer the question” Viv whispers but it obviously gets caught by the microphone and broadcasted to the entire room. You press your lips together to conceal your giggle as you watch your wife attempt to coax your daughter into letting go of the mic stand. Unfortunately, it seems your daughter is very fixated on the microphone because she tries to grab for it again. 

But Viv is faster. She hauls Evie off her lap for a second, turning her around so she is facing Viv and not the mic. 

“Ducky turn!” Your daughter whines loudly. She is clearly displeased at being turned away from her new toy. She pouts, twisting her body back around, and points at the mic. “Ducky turn! Ducky turn!”

You never though you would say this, but maybe there are consequences in teaching your daughter how to share and take turns. 

And your wife seems to think the same. “Well…at least you all have proof that we are teaching her how to take turns properly” She chuckles endearingly at the pouty toddler on her lap. 

“Okay” Viv relents with a sigh. “Ducky gets a turn.” She lifts Evie and turns her back around so she is facing the rest of the room, the press, and her shiny new toy– the black microphone. 

You shake your head as you watch your wife visibly soften. Evie has Viv wrapped around her little finger from the day she was born. Viv is almost always unable to deny her daughter anything, even if she claims to be the more stricter parent out of the two of you. 

“Since it’s Ducky’s turn, why don’t you have a go at answering the questions then?” Viv pulls the chair closer towards the table so Evie can reach the mic more comfortably. She directs the question to everyone in the room, clearly giving the reporters permission to ask Evie some questions. 

Not a second later, a few hands are up in the air. You smile at the sight of these very professional reporters taking the time to entertain your daughter’s antics, no matter how silly they may be. 

Jonas playfully gasps and leans into his mic. “Wow Evie, look at that! So many people want to ask you questions” 

“What do you think, ducky?” Viv asks the grinning toddler in her lap. “Which question shall we take?”

Your daughter cutely scrunches her face in concentration, one chubby little finger tapping her lips as if she was contemplating the secrets of the universe. You watch as she scans her choices of eager hands, and then points to a man sitting by the front row. You watch as Evie lean up to whisper something to her Mama and then turns back around with a shy smile. 

“Evie will take a question from the man in the front row with the yellow tie” Of course, it’s the yellow tie. Anything yellow is guaranteed to win your daughter over.

“Hello Miss Evelyn. My question for you is: what did you think of your Mum scoring two goals today?”

You watch as Viv pulls the mic closer towards Evie, giving her a nod of support when your daughter turns to her for encouragement.

“Uh…” You cringe internally as your daughter presses her mouth as close to the mic as possible, practically gnawing on it, and the sound is magnified by the speakers. The press seem to take it to stride, a few coos of encouragement sounding around the room. “…I like duckies”

“Oh! That’s nice” Bless the journalist. You doubt that bit would make it to the final draft of the article. “Ducks are quite nice, aren’t they?”

Your daughter nods and hums into the mic, wriggling from her spot on your wife’s lap, clearly eager to talk more about her favourite subject. “Duckies yellow!”

You watch as the journalists couldn't help but be charmed by Evelyn’s enthusiasm, their professional demeanour melting away as they listened to your spirited little girl. Some even leaned in closer, eager to catch every word she says, the cameras capturing the moment.

“Ducks are yellow, clever girl! But let Mama have a turn now, please” You try to stifle your laughter behind your hand as Viv has to practically wrestle the mic away from Evie, grabbing both of her little hands in one of hers to settle the mischievous toddler. 

———————————————

Viv was more than happy to continue the rest of the press with her daughter in her lap, even if she has to routinely stop and grab a little hand as it beelines for the microphone. Viv lets Evie babble into the microphone a more few times and she couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in her heart. She may be a footballer on the pitch, but her greatest joy was sitting right here in her lap, eager to share in her world, one stolen microphone at a time.

“Do you want to say anything to Mummy?” Viv points you out for your daughter to see. It was already nearing the end of the press conference. "Anything to say to Mummy before we finish?”

Your daughter thinks for a moment, her face titling to the side and her nose adorably scrunching up in concentration. Thinking about what to say to your Mummy is a very big task for a 3 year old. The room goes silent as everyone waits with baited breath. 

“…I- I love you, Mummy” 

Hey, my loves!

It's been while since I posted and that's mainly due to life getting in the way + not being inspired to write. By some miracle, I somehow managed to finish writing this short little fic (featuring a different player this time– surprise!). This was inspired by seeing that cute video of Alex Morgan and her daughter doing post-match interviews lol

hopefully this will only motivate me to keep on writing.

I appreciate all of you, thanks for being patient

-- butter

[phyx-m]

Little Runaway

You are a servant at the King of Curses shrine. You decide to run away one night. Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t tolerate such disobedience. 

As you run tirelessly, your bare feet slap against the damp, packed earth. The forest blurs around you, the details scrambling in your frantic pace. There was no time to put on footwear. You just needed to run—run for your goddamn miserable life.

Less than an hour ago, in the dead of night, you managed to escape from the King of Curses' shrine. For over a year, you have been a servant there, though it felt more like captivity, forced to stay and serve him. You've witnessed enough nightmarish scenarios to scar you for eternity. Now, you long for a new kind of freedom.

“Oooh braaaat,” a deep, disembodied voice calls out behind you, sending a chill through your heated skin.

The monster is coming.

You lift the hem of your cream-colored robe and scramble over a fallen tree. The soles of your feet are sore from maneuvering through brambles and twigs, and you're certain they feel cut, stinging painfully with each step. Slick hair clings to your face, and you constantly wipe your forehead as sweat drips into your eyes from the exertion.

You aren’t sure where you're running to. All you know is that—

“Brat! I’ll give you to the count of ten to get back here, or I’ll bite your tiny little fingers off,” his voice grows colder. He's furious that someone as insignificant as you dared to escape him.

Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t tolerate such disobedience.

“I won’t go back!” you call out to him, your voice ragged. He doesn’t respond, but you can sense his footsteps quickening in the brush behind you.

Ahead, there’s a rocky ravine. You scramble then slide down its rugged face, feeling scratches score your backside as you land roughly at the bottom with a soft oof. Without pausing to look back, you keep going.

A loud thud shakes the earth, signalling that he has dropped into the ravine behind you. Glancing back over your shoulder, you finally see him.

Illuminated by the moonlight, he appears utterly terrifying and devastating all at once. He saunters now, fixating his eyes on you. He's in no rush; after all, he enjoys playing with his victims.

"Hello, my little runaway," he says patronizingly, his eyes widening as he relishes the fear that flashes across your face.

As he sees you still running from him, a feral grin breaks across his features, contorting the tattoos on his face. The maw on his stomach mirrors his smile. Its tongue unfurls and laps at the night air like it’s trying to taste you.

You tear your gaze from the monster and pick up your pace, pumping your arms as you aim for the end of the ravine. It's the only escape route, as the steep walls prevent climbing back up.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Sukuna chuckles cryptically. But you ignore him.

Just as you reach the edge, something snags your attention. Initially, the massive, cursed spirit doesn't register, but as it ambles down the ravine’s walls and into your path, you skid to a halt and look up—up—up—at it.

Your heart plummets to your feet.

Its mouth opens, exposing needle-like teeth, and you're certain you see human flesh impaled on a few. The cursed spirit advances with a grotesque claw, causing you to step back.

Glancing over your shoulder, you spot Sukuna standing casually, his four arms crossed over his chest. His expression is pure delight as he observes the unfolding scene.

You're trapped—caught between two monsters.

You jerk your head back to the massive cursed spirit as it slowly closes in on you. The stench of its breath makes you gag.

"I did warn you," Sukuna scoffs from behind. You refuse to glance back at him, keeping your eyes trained on the curse while walking backwards in slow, measured steps.

The curse accelerates, its four legs scrabbling for traction as it maneuvers its immense body through the ravine toward you. Tiny rocks and pebbles scatter, forcing you to retreat another step.

Terror grips you as you face a crucial decision.

You glance at the curse, then back at Sukuna, eyes darting between the two.

Sukuna. Cursed spirit. Sukuna. Cursed spirit.

What's the right choice? Death or something else?

A heartbeat later.

You pivot, whirling around to face Sukuna. He's already aware of your decision. He slowly unfurls his four arms, spreading them wide with a wicked smile.

"Come here, idiot," he sneers from the other end of the ravine.

Behind you, the cursed spirit’s claws pound into the earth, urging you to flee. You run—straight toward the very monster you had been running from.

Sukuna stays rooted in place, waiting for you. His smile widens impossibly larger, his four red orbs practically glowing. Every muscle in his body ripples and tenses. His fingertips twitch anxiously, eager to grasp your soft, small frame to his.

"Hurry up, it’s gaining on you," he laughs callously, offering no help as you stumble towards him, navigating rocks and debris.

Finally, within reach, you hurl yourself at him. His four arms snap out and catch you midair, pulling you tightly toward him as he slams your body against his bare chest. Caught. His body doesn’t budge from the impact. He presses his face into your hair, inhaling your fear and sweat from the chase.

"Got you," he murmurs, his mouth pressed to the top of your head, his breath burning against your skull.

You strain your neck to look up at him. He’s massive, towering over you, and his immense presence makes you feel small. Swallowing hard, you meet his intense gaze. His four eyes burn, and you feel like you're drowning under those red pools.

Without averting his gaze from yours, Sukuna releases a hand from your trembling form and extends it toward the approaching cursed spirit. His index and middle fingers extend, and with a swipe through the air, the curse crashes to the ground and dies.

He grins wickedly. "Now, someone needs to be taught a lesson for thinking they can just up and leave their King." Quickly, he lifts you and throws you over his shoulder. The ground feels far away as you dangle in his grip. He adjusts your position so that your upper body hangs over his back, and your lower body presses against his chest, your backside against the side of his head.

Turning, Sukuna begins to walk back to the shrine, his prey caught firmly in his grasp. Tonight, he has plans for you—plans to remind you of who you belong to.

Tension fills the trek back to the shrine. Neither you nor Sukuna speaks. You hang there helplessly, watching the muscles in his back twist and coil with each step, his tattoos moving fluidly. You have to force yourself to look away and focus on the forest, which has gone eerily silent. There are no sounds of animals or insects, as if his presence has driven them all away. Naturally, they’re frightened of him. Who wouldn’t be? You pout and stare at the ground, your arms swaying with each of his movements.

After a while, Sukuna finally speaks. "Someone's sulking because they got caught," he huffs, placing a firm hand on your backside, causing you to turn your head toward him. "It was stupid to think you could get away." You give him your best death stare, directed at the side of his head.

"You aren’t subtle. I can see that," Sukuna says, shifting his lower eye to snap its gaze onto you. You quickly look away, feeling your face heat up. “Tch… idiot.”

Suddenly, a pair of hands snake up and around your ankles. Clutching them, he forces your legs open. Your eyes widen. You want to sit up but can’t because of the way he is holding you. One more hand slowly creeps up your leg, then thigh, then below your undergarment.

"Let's start with your first lesson for trying to run away from me." He keeps his head forward, not even glancing back at you as he walks. You can sense that this is just the beginning, a preamble to whatever punishment he has in store for you.

Pushing the fabric of your undergarment aside, he exposes your cunt to the evening chill.

“S-sukuna,” you stammer and begin wriggling on his shoulder. The hand that was on your backside draws up and then comes crashing back down onto your behind.

Smack!

“Ah!” You cry out from the sharp sting. Your rear is still tender from sliding down the rocky ravine, and now it’s throbbing.

“You ran away from me brat. I don’t pity those who disobey me. Now shut up and take it,” he says harshly, keeping his hand on your tender asscheek as he kneads it through the fabric.

You remain quiet, staring at the ground, trying not to shift under his forceful hand. He keeps walking, his strides so large that you know you'll be back at the shrine soon.

Still grasping your ankles open, you wonder what he will do next. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him raise a hand to his mouth and spit a glob of saliva onto his fingers. The sight of the sticky mess makes you shudder. Bringing his soaking digits back to where he had them, he yanks your undergarment away again.

“Let’s try this again.” His voice is gravelly as he smears his saliva-coated fingertips across your folds. You fight the urge to squirm, heart pounding against his shoulder, and you are sure he can feel it because his three hands tighten around you. Hard. Firm. He is holding you in place.

“You like that?” He muses as his massive fingers push your swollen pussy lips up and down and side to side in slow, torturous circles. “From now on, I want you in my chambers every night. And if you try to escape again, I will chain you up like a dog,” he hisses. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes, Master Sukuna,” you say, panting at the treatment he is giving you. It makes you feel heated like your entire body is pulsating.

“Good girl. Now let me have my first taste of this sweet cunt of yours.” He drives one of his fingers past your outer lips, pressing deeply into your clenching walls. You moan loudly, hips bucking. Your arms shoot out, and you desperately cling on for dear life to his lower shoulder. Slowly, he begins to push the finger in, then out, in, then out as he stretches you.

“So fucking tight.” He runs his tongue across his teeth. “We’ll need to fix that for what I have planned.”

Stepping over a rock, you feel his body tipping slightly. The movement catches you off guard, and he uses that to push even deeper, making you a quivering wreck as slick coats your inner thighs. Pleased by the sounds you are making, he quickens the pace until you are writhing.

“Such a needy little thing,” he chuckles, sliding in a second finger.

“Oh! Fuuuck, please, no more,” you cry out. Ignoring you, he bullies the second one in deeper. He pushes until his knuckles graze your folds, then twists them in a circling motion before he pulls away, only to slam them back in. In and out, curling them occasionally, making you tighten around him.

“Ahh-ah! Sukuna!” You whine. He laughs mercilessly at how easy it is to get you all riled up. Your hips grind forward as if your body wants to increase the pressure.

“That’s a good girl. Keep showing me how pitiful you are.” He mockingly swats your ass a few times.

“Too much,” you moan, mouth dropping open, blood rushing to your head.

He chuckles again. “Oh, we are just getting started, brat.” He punctuates the last few words with a few forceful thrusts of his fingers, making you scream.

You were so lost in the sensations that you barely noticed him climbing steps, signaling your arrival at the shrine. The steps pass through your line of vision as you hang over his shoulder, reminding you that you're back at the place you tried to escape.

Pushing open the massive doors, Sukuna strides in with you atop his shoulder. You can hear a group of servants gathered at the main entrance gossiping about your daring escape. He’s still fingering you unapologetically so everyone can hear the sound of your wet squelching cunt. Your face heats in embarrassment as their chattering fades, and they turn towards their Master. You squeeze your thighs around his hand, attempting to halt his ministrations.

“Go back to your fucking rooms!” Sukuna bellows, and they scatter like frightened rabbits in the presence of a predator.

Huffing, he nudges your thighs apart and begins to stroll down one of the corridors, no doubt heading for somewhere private. You can see his enormous shadow cast on the floor by the lanterns, but you don’t stare long because you feel a third finger enter your sloppy heat, making your eyes slam shut.

“Oh, god,” you moan as he fills you up further, slick running down his hand. You are practically vibrating with need as he plunges deeper.

There’s a loud rumble from Sukuna’s chest. “You should be referring to me as your god tonight.” Another swat to your ass, you squeal.

Suddenly, you hear a door slide open with a loud bang, and Sukuna carries you into a dimly lit room. The door slams shut. Lifting your head, you see the overwhelming extravagance of the space—opulent wood furnishings and rich fabrics confirm that you’ve entered his lavish chambers.

After a few measured steps, Sukuna removes his fingers from inside you, and then abruptly, you feel yourself go airborne. The world blurs as you fly off his shoulder and crash onto the futon with a yelp. Fortunately, you land on a cushioned surface, sinking into its softness.

Without a moment's notice, he moves toward you. As he looms over you, you instinctively tilt your head to meet his gaze. His presence is imposing, and the way he stands so close casts a shadow across your form.

Raising his fingers glistening with your essence, he brings them to his mouth and sucks them clean.

“So sweet," he hums, licking up every last drop. You blush and clench your thighs together at the sight.

Surveying his fingers, he returns his attention to you. Splaying his hand across your breastbone, he shoves you onto your back, watching as your hair spills out and your anxious eyes dart up to meet his.

Leaning over your body, he puts his face directly before yours. "What was your plan if you had managed to escape?" he asks, moving his lower hands to your trembling thighs and gripping them tightly while his upper hands go on either side of your head, caging you in.

You swallow, taking a moment to let your brain catch up to the situation you’ve found yourself in. The King of Curses hovering over you, your juices staining his lips.

"… maybe going to a village. Starting anew, marrying a good man, and starting a family,” you say quietly.

Sukuna’s upper lip twitches. He glares down at you, clearly upset with your answer—no, he’s fucking fuming. 

Suddenly, his lower hands clutch your ankles, and you’re being yanked to the edge of the futon so your legs hang off.

He steps back.

“Start anew? Marry a good man? Start a family? Do you think you deserve those things?” His tone becomes colder, and he’s crossing his four arms over his chest.

“Well, I—”

“You don’t! You are nothing. Worthless. Now, take your fucking clothes off,” he demands.

Instantly, a knot forms in your belly. You want to refuse, but you know it’s futile. Sitting up, you scoot closer, eyes fixed on him, and your hands go to your obi. Unravelling it, you reach for the front panels of your robe, shrugging it off and onto the bed. Now, in your undergarment, you hesitate before reaching for them.

“Slower,” he interjects, as his upper hands move to his hakama, and pulls it down, allowing it to pool at his feet. Two monstrous cocks—hard and weeping with precum—eagerly spring forward. Biting your lower lip, you avert your eyes, lowering them and looking away.

“Ah, ah, ah. Look at me,” his voice rises as he gives you the command.

You return your eyes to him, taking in his naked form. You are transfixed by the sight before you. Despite his reputation as the King of Curses—a monster to many including yourself—he stands before you as the epitome of perfection, unmatched by any other in this world.

Grabbing both heavy shafts, he begins to stroke in slow, languid motions. You want to tear your eyes away, but you can’t. It’s so mesmerizing. His hand squeezing the swollen meat makes you clench around nothing.

“Go on then,” he hedges. His voice has become seductively lower as he grins viciously at you, waiting for you to reveal yourself to his hungry eyes.

Moving in what feels like slow motion, you gradually remove the last piece of clothing covering your body. Your eyes meet, and your face flushes as he drinks you in. Heated face, pert nipples, supple tits, soaking cunt. He already groped your ass on the way back, and he can’t wait to sink into it.

You are everything he wants.

“Look at you,” he rasps, increasing the intensity of his strokes. 

You watch him in awe as his balls start shifting forward, moving with the actions. It’s turning you on, watching him pleasuring himself to the mere sight of you. But suddenly, he stops, you pout. He gestures with two fingers directly at the spot on the floor in front of him.

“Get on your knees,” he gives the order, and your body unconsciously obeys. Before you even realize it, you find yourself kneeling before him.

“Such a good girl,” he breathes out, “although your answer on why you wanted to escape needs to be addressed.”

A hand comes forward, and he inserts his thumb into your mouth, hooking it to your bottom lip and teeth. His other fingers go to your chin to pry it open.

“Open wide and say ahhh.”

You don’t even have time to because he’s already shoving his throbbing upper dick past your lips and deep into your throat.

You flinch, then strain and sputter to hold in his girth, feeling your mouth stretch as tears well up and begin to slide down your flushed cheeks. The satisfied groan that rumbles in his chest is so loud it makes your whole body vibrate.

“Fuck… just like that.” Sukuna hisses through gritted teeth, then steadily moves his hips back and forth. His eyes narrow as he watches you, trying to accommodate him.

Almost gently, he pushes your hair back to get a better look at your face. His crimson eyes stare down at you, making you want to shy away and lower your head.

“Open that pretty mouth wider for me,” he says reverently, running a thumb across your cheek and through your tears.

Obediently, you open your mouth wider until your jaw twinges. Sukuna’s eyes glimmer with satisfaction as he begins to thrust deeper and harder into your constricting throat. You moan as drool cascades in rivers dripping down to your chest, his cock, his balls, and then the floor.

“That’s it,” he groans, hips snapping until you are pressed to his navel, his cock sufficiently stuffed down your throat. Your moans grow louder, and Sukuna grunts from the vibrations, tilting his head back, his mouth agape. 

His thrusts slow once he is pleased with the mess you’ve made. He pulls out of your sopping mouth to look down at you on your knees. He’s so damn pleased to see you down there, he can’t stand it. Gripping his lower cock, he slides it into your wanting mouth for you to suck and lick at. He releases the upper one, causing it to hit your face with a wet slap, drenching you in your spit.

"You will be a disgusting mess when I’m finished with you. And after that, we will do it all again." He declares, voice growing deeper with lust as he runs the wet shaft along your cheeks while fucking your face with the other one.

You look up at him in a lustful daze, trying your best to keep up, gagging and choking your way through it. It turns you on the way he uses you like this, the way he is dominating you. And you know it pleases him to no end. The inexcusable heat that pools between your folds drives you mad, and Sukuna notices. He sees how your eyes have become heavy-lidded and your movements more sensual.

With one more thrust, he makes you gag a final time before withdrawing. Strings of drool connect the two of you, making you groan at the filthy sight. You take a moment to gasp for air and try to catch your breath as you prepare for his next move.

He breathes down at you, a sneer crawling across his face. "You want me. I can see it in your pathetic pleading eyes," he says, his smug tone almost shaming you, but you nod in agreement.

Sukuna reacts instantly, lifting you by your arms and throwing you back onto the futon. You squeal as you land on your back. You really should be more prepared for this kind of treatment.

Approaching you like a feral animal, he flips you onto your stomach, forcing you on all fours as he climbs behind you.

With the soles of your feet exposed, Sukuna touches the cuts and sores you acquired during tonight's chase. You feel him tense briefly, grumbling wordlessly before he goes quiet as if it had never been there.

You feel him lean closer to you. “Tell me what you want slut,” he growls, running a hand teasingly along your inner thigh and through the wetness that has leaked out. “Do you want to be wrecked by me? Is that what you want?”

His filthy words make you tremble with need. It’s a thick feeling, making your brain fuzzy.

"I... I, uh..." You hesitate, unwilling to tell him what you truly desire. How you want to be fucked into oblivion. To be held down by all four of his arms as he takes you. To forget all the reasons for wanting to leave this place, but you stay silent.

“Speak!”

“Fuck me!”

So much for staying silent.

He clicks his tongue, and you can almost imagine the smug, prideful, arrogant expression as he leans over your back—a true king.

He presses his mouth to the shell of your ear. "Then, my pretty little runaway, you will be fucked, stretched and filled so you can never leave this place again,” he whispers. Goosebumps pebble across your skin because of a few words.

Sukuna aligns the fat head of his lower cock with your wet entrance, gradually pushing in. As soon as the tip slips inside, he thrusts himself forward until you completely engulf him.

“Ryomen!” His first name flies from your mouth as he enters you, trying to suck in a breath at the sudden intrusion, but you love how deliciously full your pussy feels.

"That's right, I'll fill you up until you can't take any more. Your greedy body needs to be taught a lesson,” he murmurs as he begins thrusting, his hips moving like a piston. Your body starts to tremble uncontrollably. You have to brace yourself against the futon to keep from collapsing under his intense movements.

With each powerful thrust, his upper cock slaps against the seam of your ass, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. You can feel the precum spattering against you with each movement. The lewd sensation only heightens as the friction between your bodies increases. You can’t help but moan as he continues to drive into you, the sound melding with the slap of skin on skin.

Sukuna's movements slow down abruptly, his fingers digging into your hips. "It's time to take all of me," he growls through gritted teeth.

You can hear him spit, and then you feel a warm glob land above your ass, making you flinch. He massages it down to your unfilled hole and coats it with his saliva before slowly inserting his fingers inside. His movements are deliberate and sensual, savouring the sight before him.

“Ahhh,” you moan, rocking your hips back and forth as he slides his fingers in and out of your asshole before removing them and pressing the blunt head against it.

Bracing yourself, you prepare for his second cock to enter you. Your body tenses up with nerves, and you grip onto the sheets. The pressure builds at your entrance as he begins to penetrate you.

It builds and builds. Until a sharp pain shoots through your body as he pushes it in. 

“It hurts,” you let out a low whine, unable to hold back the discomfort.

"Shh, you will take it," he says with a dangerous tone, ignoring your protests and continuing to inch forward.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally manages to work it past the rim. With one final shove, he forces it in all the way. The sudden stretching sensation is intense, causing your mouth to drop open and drool to spill uncontrollably. The pain subsides quickly, replaced by a deep throbbing that spreads throughout your entire being.

You are completely filled by the King of Curses.

“Hmngh, fuck, yes,” You can't help the throaty moan that breaks loose from you. You are too far gone now as you rock back against him, desperate for him to start moving inside of you. “Fuck me,” you plead.

He doesn’t move. He wants to torture you some more.

“Look at that,” he murmurs. His lower hands run reverently across the curve of your ass as he admires the sight of you bent over and fully impaled on his dual cocks. "This is how it will always be. Every fucking night. You and me. This." he growls aggressively.

Pulling back all the way until you feel just the tips inside of you. He pauses, leaving you tense, before thrusting forward with full force. The impact scrambles your mind, and you fist the sheets before the moans and screams start tumbling out.

The rhythm he sets now that your snug holes are swallowing him is relentless. You can feel yourself being driven towards the edge. There’s the sound of grunting. It’s either him or you. You can’t even be sure. Everything is just a daze, making you babble incoherently.

Splat!

You feel a rough, slimy tongue glide across your lower back as his stomach maw emerges. It explores around your tailbone, sending tingles up your spine and causing you to writhe uncontrollably. Your reactions, please, Sukuna. He breathes harder, and he increases his thrusts, driving himself into you with more vigour. As a result, drool from his maw splatters onto your heated skin and drenches the sheets. He had warned you that things might get messy, and he wasn't exaggerating.

“You like that? You like being pummeled by me?” You can barely hear him through the sounds of your fucking.

“Yes,” you moan out, hoping that’s what he wanted to hear.

He roughly grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you back, causing your spine to arch. From this angle, you can catch a glimpse of his profile. He continues to thrust into you forcefully like an animal, and as your eyes meet his, he places a hand on your throat, fingers tightening as he applies pressure until you struggle for air. Your body goes limp in his hold, arms dangling helplessly at your sides.

He’s like a monster coveting a prized possession. It feels good—almost too good—being treated this way by him.

He leans in, his rough breath tickling your nape as he nips and licks at it. You can feel the roughness of his mask grazing against your skin, and despite yourself, you can't help but enjoy it. You can only imagine his view of you submitting to him like this.

"Tell me who you belong to," he whispers gruffly, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrusts in and out, dull nails poking at your flesh.

“You! I belong to you,” your needy voice reaches his ears.

Smack!

His hand comes down hard on your ass.

"Louder! Tell me louder, who do you belong to?"

Your eyes roll back. You can feel yourself getting closer to climax.

"You!" You scream, feeling like a wild banshee. "You! My King! It's always been you!"

Smack!

Another painful slap lands on your ass, causing tears to well up in your eyes from the pleasure and pain.

"Yes! Fuck me harder!" You cry out, urging him on as he picks up the pace.

“That’s right,” he hisses as he tries to maintain his rhythm, but it becomes increasingly erratic. He's losing control now. He’s never one to lose control.

You notice him shifting his leg, placing one foot closer to your upper body for better leverage. He thrusts into you with more force, his hands gripping onto you as he takes what he wants: your complete submission.

"Cum for me!" He commands, tightening his grip on your throat. He wants to see you cream all over him. Wants to feel you clench onto his cocks like your life depends on it.

He pushes your face down onto the futon, and the hand around your throat moves to your cheek, tilting it to the side so he can witness every expression on your beautiful face.

He's hitting all the right spots inside you from this new angle. It's intense, almost too much to handle. The maw’s tongue suddenly swipes up your back, making your body tremble. That’s it for you. The heat is building up, coiling in your belly. You know you're close to release. All you can do is look at him as his thrusts become more forceful, his thumbs digging into your hips, and you feel his cock hit against your cervix.

"That’s it. Cum for me," he grunts, urging you on as he keeps pounding into you.

He fucks you so brutally it seems as though he pushes you to the brink of despair, almost abandoning you, before pulling you back like the sweetest salvation.

You scream out in ecstasy, begging him to go harder as you watch him, watching you reach your peak. Your walls clench around him, drenching his lower cock in your juices.

“M-my King!” You scream until your lungs are sore and abused, your eyes fluttering shut as you lose yourself in him.

He grins evilly, his face twisting with pleasure as he thrusts inside you. "Look at me," he demands, wanting your undivided attention. You open yours and lock eyes with him, feeling his two members throbbing inside you as he gives you a few final thrusts before slamming down on you with all his weight.

"Let my cum fill you up," he groans, and the intense heat that fills you is like burning lava. His release is unlike anything you've ever felt, seemingly endless as it fills you to the brim. Over and over. And you eagerly take it, writhing beneath him and moaning as your body milks him for more.

"Sukuna!" You cry out desperately, not wanting this sensation to end as your body twitches and shakes beneath him. But eventually, his seed stops showering your insides, and he slows.

"Good girl," he smirks, looking down at your exhausted form and the cum leaking out from between your used holes. He pats your face condescendingly before pushing you off his members.

Your body jerks forward as Sukuna pulls away. You make a small keening noise at the loss of his touch. His naked form abruptly retreats from you and leaves the room, making you frown at his sudden absence and the loss of his warmth. You fall back onto the futon and turn over, staring at the ceiling as you try to steady your breathing and heartbeat.

You hear him return moments later, carrying a small water basin and cloth. He places them on the futon, grabs your ankle, and reels you closer to him.

Lifting your foot, he examines the cuts and sores on your soles. A tiny crease begins to form above his nose—subtle, but you catch it. Then, with practiced efficiency, he dips the cloth into the water and gently cleans your wounds.

"Why the hell weren’t you wearing footwear this time, you little shit?" he asks, his tone tinged with irritation.

The game between you two is officially over.

You sigh, relaxing. You had noticed him trying to hide his concern about your feet all night, and knowing this makes your heart thump.

Lying there naked on your back, you look at him hulking over you, holding your foot delicately between his firm hands.

"I was too excited," you huff and shrug. "I forgot to grab ‘em."

He stares at you as if you were a child while the warm, damp cloth glides along your foot. You try not to pull away from the tickling sensation as little droplets slide down your leg.

"Oh, you were excited. You forgot to grab them, was it?" he mimics, admonishing you as he squeezes your calf hard. "Footwear next time.”

You roll your eyes. "I’m not the only one who should be in trouble here. What about that cursed spirit you almost let kill me—"

"If you honestly believe I’d ever let anything happen to you, then you're even more of a fool than I thought," he snaps, his eyes flashing with intensity. "I would never allow my wife to be in danger… idiot." His voice softens slightly as he carefully cleans both of your feet. Then, suddenly, he tosses the damp cloth onto your face.

It slaps against you. “Ay!” you exclaim, pulling it off and flinging it at him. He catches it with impressive reflexes, drops it into the basin, and sets it on the floor.

Your husband crawls next to you, pulling you into his chest, four arms encircling you.

Caught.

He presses his face into your hair, inhaling the sweet scent of musk from your brutal fucking, and plants a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

You stay quiet and still as you relax in his arms, your mind replaying the night's events. You remind yourself to return the servant’s robe you borrowed for this.

Sukuna shifts suddenly as if agitated by, gods know what.

“What you said about leaving, starting anew, finding a good man—I would hunt you down, you know,” he pauses momentarily, considering his words. “Then I would fuck you in front of him and rip his spinal cord through his mouth and drag you back here,” Sukuna growls, his lips brushing against your skin with soft kisses.

Your heart tightens. The jealousy over some imaginary man you mentioned is almost sweet.

"Hmm, I know you would," you say, settling against him even more.

You know you would never leave him because you have everything you need right here. He is the only one who can satisfy your perverse desires, and you might be the only one who doesn't see him as the disgraceful monster he truly is.

You both lie there together, your bodies aching in ways you never thought possible.

Finally, you break the silence. “When you threatened to chain me up like a dog… were you serious?” You ask, trying to mask your true intentions.

“Princess,” he says with a patronizing affection, “when am I not serious with my threats?” You can hear the smugness in his voice as he weaves his fingers through your hair and gazes down at you.

A smile spreads across your face as you look up at him.

“I think I have an idea for our next game.”

_________

If you're interested in more Sukuna x Reader (smut, slow burn, forced marriage) content, I'm much more active on Ao3: Beneath The Silk

[iamyoursonly]

Childhood Best Friend (16/07/2024)

turns out my bakugo obsession wasn’t over so i’m writing him to feed my delusions because I saw this one line on tumblr and I had to write a whole story about it; i wrote this at 2 AM so it’s not the most creative hehe but bear with me

1.5k words — unedited

The thought of having a childhood best friend that you can keep in contact with really drives me insane, not in a bad way though, because it’s the kind of friendship that I crave. I have no idea how much time both parties dedicate to each other to maintain a relationship for this long, and I might be jealous of some of my friends because they have this and mine isn’t as ideal as I hope it was.

“Katsu?” My five-year-old self say, “Would you marry me when we grow up?”

The crimson eyed boy looked at me, holding out that ring pop he’s been eating for a while now and basically finished, “If you’ll have me that is.”

According to his mom, I went around kindergarten holding his hand and calling him “my husband katsu” for a while, and he was always around to protect me when kids doubted what I said. He’d beat them up or threaten them with his explosions saying, “You’re all just jealous that you’re not her, but too bad she’s my wife now so piss off.”

I was always around him and he was always around me, we were literally stuck to the bone.

“Katsu, someone told me I was ugly is that true?” I cried in his arms for the first time when I was six, and he rubbed my head and let me cry it out.

“Whoever told you that must have no taste, you’re breathtaking.” He says.

“What does ‘breaktaking’ mean?” I say.

“Breathtaking. It means you’re so pretty you take someone’s breath away.” He smiles, “I’m also beating them up for putting this nonsense in your head. No one messes with my wife.”

“Don’t beat them up though, please?” I look at him, and his rubs my head and nod.

This all disappeared when I had to leave to move away because my parents found a better job. I held onto his hand and begged my parents to let me stay with him and his family, he also begged, claiming he doesn’t want to be apart from “his wife”.

“Don’t forget me, Katsu.” I start sobbing, “I really don’t want to leave.”

“Can’t you stay?” He asks, red staining his eyes because of the crying he has been doing.

“I can’t, they’re not letting me.” I hold his hand harder, “Promise we’ll meet again?”

“Let’s become heroes together. I’ll become number one and you’ll be alongside me.” He squeezes my hand back. “Let’s meet at UA.”

“Promise?” I ask.

“Promise.”

We pinky promised before my parents shoved me into the car and drove away.

“Hit harder, you’re not doing it right!” My coach screams at me. “Okay, take a break you’re not thinking.”

I sit on the ground, stripping off my boxing gear then throwing them to the ground, “Fuck.” How am I going to be good enough to catch up to him? He’s gifted, hardworking and talented. It’s not possible to be on the same level as him without training harder, and I’m not even hitting right…

“I’m done, let me do it again!” I say to my coach, who’s wiping the pads I’ve been hitting. She smiles and signals me to start. I throw I few punches at her, then a few kicks, and some more punches. “That’s the spirit, young lady!” She says as I throw more kicks at her.

“Good work today,” She pats my shoulder, “See you tomorrow.”

I smile at her before packing my bags and leaving, stretching a bit before I take a taxi home to revise for tomorrow morning’s tests. I take out the small notebook I keep in my bag and start memorizing some main points from the book, “Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.” I whisper.

I manage to get a taxi, I get in and sit down and continue studying. After a while, I look out of the window, slowly rolling down the glass after getting the driver’s permission. Feeling the night air against my face, I start to feel home sick. It’s been ten years since I left Japan, and I’ve been doing everything he would just so I can get in UA. And I miss him so much.

“Congratulations! You’re accepted into UA high school, we’re looking forward to seeing you on our first day!“

I scream at this news before telling my parents and they were overjoyed also. They willingly bought me plane tickets back to Japan and even called Katsuki’s family to have them take care of me for the mean time, in which they agreed to. And all I could think about that night was how happy he would be when he sees me again.

He was not happy, at least I don’t think he is. He has this scowl over his face and he’s gotten so tall and buff since ten years ago.

“You’re that loser girl I hung out with? I literally have no fuckin’ memory of you since you’re so fuckin’ insignificant to me.”

Wow. He’s definitely changed so much.

“Katsu, I kept my promise, I got into UA and now I’m back.” I say.

“So? What do you want me to say? Congrats? Yeah no shit, everyone craves validation when it comes to me.” He says, “Congrats loser, for making the bare minimum to get in like it’s fuckin’ challenging.”

Okay he’s just rude now, where was that sweet old Katsuki I missed. So I just rolled my eyes at him and went to their guest room to settle down. In which Mitsuki welcomed me with a whole party that Katsuki was not happy about.

New school year, new me. I wear my UA uniform, ready for a new school year with more fun and joy every year. Until some weird guy stopped me and Katsuki on our way to school.

“Hey girlie, you look so fine you should be called mine. Wanna go out with me?” He winks, and I cringed at him. Katsuki full on glared at him, looking pissed.

“She doesn’t wanna fuckin’ go out with you, why would she downgrade herself for a fucker like you?” Katsuki grabbed my hand and started leaving.

He told him off for me. He cares.

“Why are you even helping that whore?” That weirdo asked Katsuki, and he glared daggers into him.

“No one can say that to her when I’m around, say that again and you’ll lose your dick.” Katsuki threatens him again and wraps his arms around my waist.

He turns to me, his face so close to mine before he says, “Let’s go.”

Since when was his face so masculine and defined. He definitely had a big glow up because how could one be so breathtaking?

“Katsu.” I say, “What was that for? Thought you hated me.”

“Still do, but only I can degrade you.” He answers.

“Possessive much?” I joke, but I could feel his grip on my waist tighten. So I just shut up and walk with him.

When we got home that day, Mitsuki made us fried chicken and some extra spicy mapo tofu (katsu’s favourite).

“Remember when the two of you got married when you were five? Katsuki gave you his ring pop after you asked him if he’d marry you and he said something like ‘if you’ll have me’? Oh goodness I remember it like it was yesterday.” She chuckled with her husband as Katsuki and I stared at each other awkwardly.

“Shut up you old hag.” Katsuki says, his ears red, “I’m going back to my room.”

Before he leaves the table, he drags me with him and we enter his room before he locks the door.

“So,” He starts, “What now?”

I look at him, “You dragged me in, you tell me.”

“It’s nothing I just needed a break from them.” He shrugged, “It’s not like I’m fuckin’ embarrassed of us or anything.”

There was a moment of loud silence.

“Katsu,” I break the awkwardness, “Can we like start again?”

“Like what, pretend that you never left me?” He says, his tone sounded like he’s hurt.

“I didn’t want to, and you know it.” I look him in the eye, and he keeps the eye contact.

“Missed you so fuckin’ much and now you’re here,” He puts his head on my shoulder, basically whispering into my ear, “I hate how you’re my weak spot and how I can’t properly get over you even though we were basically children.”

“Katsuki, listen.” I hold his face and he’s so close to me I could feel his breath on my face.

“Yeah?” He looks at me, features softening.

“Be my boyfriend, Katsuki.” I murmured softly, “For real this time. I swear the only person I’ve loved is you.”

He laughed out loud, “Thought we were married all along, wifey.”

I hug him tight and he speaks, “Don’t leave me again okay?”

“Promise.” I chuckled, “Also you need to get me another ring, I might have left the ring pop with my family.”

“You silly bitch. You’re lucky I love you.” He gently smacks me.

“And I love you too.” I smile.

…“And now, I pronounce the two of you husband and wife.”

Maybe this childhood best friend thing that I had wasn’t that bad either, seeing how we have two children together right now makes me smile at our memories together as a child. My breathtaking childhood best friend and the pro hero Dynamight that I could call my husband until the end of time.

[meazalykov]

independent

sister!trinity rodman x rodman!reader

part one - part two here

summary: even though you're sisters, you might have to let her go

warnings: angst, swearing, childhood trauma mentions

there is no way that you would reject the offer your agent sent you.

at twenty one years old, barcelona feminine offered you a 3 year contract to play at their club as a defender.

for many years while growing up, you were obsessed with barcelona and the atmosphere all of games had.

you idolized messi, before idolizing alexia putellas when barcelona's women's team started putting themselves on the map.

there is no way that you will say no to barcelona.

as of right now, you were with washington spirit. the nwsl club and the catalan club had ties together, so you shouldn't be surprised that barcelona saw you-- spirit's best defender-- before anyone else in america.

when it comes to transfers and talks of contracts, you weren't allowed to disclose the details with anyone.

even with your own sister, trinity.

trinity is your best friend, and your fraternal twin. you were 9 minutes younger than her and stayed attached to her hip.

its not like trinity didn't like it, she loved staying by your side. when you asked your mom to start playing soccer at the age of 4-- a shock considering that your father is one of the basketball legends in the NBA-- trinity joined with you.

now, many years later, the both of you were playing in the NWSL and play for the USWNT. you had the speed, strength, and determination that made you an unstoppable defender while trinity's speed, attitude, and dribbles made her an unstoppable forward.

there were many obstacles that you had to go through to get here.

emotionally, you weren't okay while growing up. missing your father who happened to be very famous in the sports world took a toll on you for a long time.

sometimes, you wondered if he would've came by to see you, your sister, and your brother more if you'd decided to pursue a professional career in basketball instead.

trinity pretended that the absence didn't affect her, as she would comfort you every time you were upset about your father not showing up to the games to see you both.

you knew deep down that it did affect your twin, as she would greet mom and then search the crowd to see if she can find dad anywhere after.

another obstacle was trying to overachieve in soccer, to the point where it would take a toll on your body most days.

having a father who is famous for his NBA career in the 90s, you didn't want people to think that you were "buying" your way into higher spots on the teams. you wanted to prove that you had talent, not nepotism.

after solcal blues, you nearly played soccer for UCLA while trinity wanted to follow DJ to washington state. the both of you had major anxiety about splitting apart from each other-- wondering if the both of you would survive without seeing each other everyday.

however, COVID-19 decided to keep you both together. the quarantine solidified the codependency you shared with trinity.

so, telling trinity that you'll be moving clubs scared you. you didn't know how she'd react.

she would probably see if she could switch clubs with you. you frowned at the idea, knowing that barcelona couldn't offer her a contract, they have too many forwards already.

since you said yes to the catalan club, you'll be in another country while trinity stays in DC-- unless she went to another club in europe to be closer to you.

now, you'll have to tell her before news pages leak the contract deal.

"trin?" you called out inside of your shared apartment with her. you assumed she'd be in the living room, so you walked out of your bedroom to head to there.

"hey, you're awake!" trinity said as you sat down on the couch beside her.

she wasn't smiling, in fact, she sounded like she was waiting for you to wake up to tell you something.

"trin I gotta talk to you about something."

"okay-- coach said you wouldn't be in training or the next game, I was surprised because you didn't tell me that." trinity chuckles as you frowned.

little did she know, the last game with spirit was your last.

"I'm sorry--- I just wanted to talk to you about something important."

she looked at you, waiting for you to continue as you looked down at your sweaty palms.

"I'm leaving." you mumbled.

trinity's eyebrows flared together.

"what do you mean?" she asks.

"another club offered me a contract, and I feel like that would be best for my career." you say.

trinity sighed, in relief, un-crossing her arms before laying her feet out on the coffee table.

"oh okay, you'll still be in the country so I can visit you. maybe we will even clash-"

the older twin had experienced distance with you before. you were gonna play in los angeles while she went to washington state with DJ--- however, she didn't know how far she would be from you.

"trin." you stop her.

trinity read the facial expression on your face. you looked sad, shaking your head slowly as you kept rubbing your hands together-- wondering if this was the end to the close bond you shared with your sister.

"you're going-- overseas?" she mumbled.

trinity is your personal mind-reader, almost, she could tell what you were thinking based off of your facial expressions and the current situation.

"I couldn't say no to barcelona." you say, crossing your arms as you looked away from trinity-- towards the turned off television.

the silence between you and trinity grew heavier, the tension almost palpable. she didn't say anything immediately after, which scared you.

you look over to see that she is looking right at you.

you could see the hurt in her eyes, but there was something else there too—anger.

she finally pulled her hand away from the resting position on her lap, standing up abruptly.

"so, that's it? you're just going to leave?" trinity's voice was sharp, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

"what happened to communication? why were you so secretive about this? weren't we supposed to be into soccer together, y/n? we always said we'd have each others backs, no matter what. and now you're running off to barcelona like its not a big deal."

"it is a big deal," you shot back, standing up to face her.

"but this is my career we're talking about, trin. i can't pass up an opportunity like this just because it's hard. you know how much this means to me. YOU know how much I grew up loving barcelona."

"and what about me?" trinity demanded, her voice rising.

"do i mean anything to you? because it sure doesn't feel like it right now. you didn't even talk to me about it before making your decision. you just decided on your own, like me or DJ don't even matter to you." trinity rubs her left temple with her finger, overwhelmed and frustrated at your decision.

"DJ? he doesn't even live in DC!" you protest.

"at least he will be in the fucking country!" trinity snaps.

"that's not fucking fair trinity," you argued, frustration creeping into your own voice.

you never said trinity's name fully, always calling her trin.

"of course you matter to me, but this is my life! i have to do what's best for me, and that means taking this chance. you would do the same if you were in my shoes." you stood up, just five feet in front of her standing body.

"you really don't get it, do you? it's not just about you, y/n. we were supposed to be a duo, and now you're breaking that up. you're leaving your own twin behind, and you don't even care because you want to prioritize your career over that." trinity let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head.

"of course i care!" you shouted, feeling your emotions getting the best of you. "but i can't let that stop me from going after what I want, especially since dad stopped coming around so much before we grew up. i need this, trin. if you can't understand that, if you can't be happy for me, if you want to stay at the same club for your whole career-- then maybe you need to let me go."

the words hung in the air like a bomb that had just gone off. trinity's face twisted in hurt and disbelief, her eyes narrowing as she stared at you.

"let you go? are you serious right now? you're the one who's leaving, y/n-- just like dad did. you're the one who’s letting go!"

"i'm not giving up on us!" you insisted, your voice trembling with the overwhelming process of your feelings. "but if you can't support me like a twin sister would… then yeah, maybe you need to let me go."

trinity stared at you, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she processed your words.

for a moment, you thought she might say something—anything—to bridge the gap that had opened between you. but instead, she just shook her head, tears filling her eyes.

"fine," she said, her voice breaking as she relaxed her arms in defeat.

"go. do what you have to do. but don't expect me to be here waiting when you realize that the grass isn't greener on the other side."

with that, trinity turned on her heel and stormed out of the apartment, leaving you standing there. you flinched when she slammed the door shut, probably scaring your neighbors in the process.

you wanted to run after her, to take back everything you'd said, take back your contract with barcelona and stay in washington-- but you knew it was too late for that.

the rift between you and your lifetime companion had been torn wide open, and there was no going back now.

all you could do was hope that, in time, she would come to understand why you had to do this—why you had to follow your own path and break your dependency from her, even if it meant leaving her behind.

for now, the only thing you could do was stand firm in your decision and hope that your dream didn't cost you the most important person in your life.

part two

my master list is here if you want to read more fics <3