#except that didn’t work either lmao

[gyusrose]

➵ you’re so vain -> l.hs

⚠︎ smut (mdni)

✎ jock!heeseung x reader, enemies to ?????, heeseung is rlly annoying, hate sex ;), hair pulling, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation, backshots lmao. i think that’s it?

summary: attending a new school was supposed to be a fresh start for you, trying to be nice to everyone and have new friends, yet coming across lee heeseung threw all of that out the window.

(heeseung x fem.reader)

wc: 3.2k

your sweaty hands could not be gripping the steering wheel any harder. you wouldn’t call yourself “super shy” but when it comes to a whole new community of people, teenagers, hell yeah you are.

you had to move exactly at the middle of the year due to your mom’s work. they offered her double the salary at the other side of the city, who was she to say no to that? although you were going to miss your friends and the overall environment of your old home, you couldn’t just tell your mom ‘no’, either way her decisions are final.

you just got here two days ago, and to be honest, it wasn’t that bad. the worst thing so far is the fact that the nearest shopping center was 30 minutes away but you’ll live.

you didn’t except your first day of school to be so nerve-wracking. surely you’ll make some friends but who knows what people are like here. eventually, you saw the big navy blue sign with your school’s name on it. it was an averagely big school, bigger than your old one, which also meant more people.

the parking space alone was scary. it was huge yet already full even though it was still fairly early. you went around in circles around the parking lot, trying to find a vacant spot. fortunately you did at the second-to-last line.

as you tried to park, the limited space you had made it difficult to, having to back up and drive in constantly. as you reversed your car, you must have completely forgotten that you aren’t the only one there, feeling a small crash at the bumper of your car.

your eyes widened in panic. you looked back to see what you hit, and with your luck, it revealed at very nice black car, to which you’ve just hit. you tried to quickly get into your parking spot, hoping it was nothing serious, but then someone came walking up to you.

‘shit, that must be the owner’ you saw his red, rather handsome, fuming face.

you got out of your car to confront the first person interaction.

“hey look im so-“

“CANT YOU FUCKING DRIVE RIGHT? YOU HIT MY VERY EXPENSIVE CAR WITH YOUR THING, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”

oh he was an asshole. you almost scoffed in his face. who does he think he is.

“it was accident that’s all, it was barely a scratch calm down man.”

“IT WAS DEFINITELY A SCRATCH LOOK AT IT! JUST BECAUSE YOU KEEP YOUR CAR LOOKING ALL MISERABLE DOESNT MEAN I WILL, DO YOU EVEN HAVE A LICENSE?”

lord take me back. you were so close to just leaving him there arguing with himself. but you didn’t want to make him even angrier.

“look im sorry! i can pay for the fix up if that’s what you want, i dont know what else to do?”

the boy scoffed and rolled his eyes at your statement.

“you think i don’t have the money for it? please, it shows you’re a newbie around here.”

“i didn’t mean it like that-“

“yo heeseung!! come on bro!” another blonde boy called from afar, hopefully ending the argument y’all were having.

“ watch your back new girl.” with one last glare, he left to join his group of friends.

you rolled your eyes. shiver my fucking timbers, you thought.

you took a deep breath before grabbing your backpack and making your way into school , hoping to never see his face ever again.

>>

you thought that was going to be the end of it all. but oh boy were you wrong. soon you found out that heeseung is the captain of the football team, and pretty much the most popular boy in school. as cliche as it sounds, every girl would drop their panties if he asked them to.

people know he’s not the nicest person ( an asshole) yet they still look up to him. that’s angered you. how are all these people so dumb? just because he’s kinda good-looking? seriously?

over the course of a few weeks, you’ve managed to make some friends, your closest taehyun and Isa. although you tried to block the negativity, heeseung made it really hard. always giving you snarky comments when he saw you around, ridiculing you in front of other people. somehow always finding a way to run into you despite not having any classes together. except gym.

“ bro open your eyes, catch the damn ball!” he yelled from across from you.

you hated sports. even less could you play one, but you gotta do it for the grade.

“the ball was too high up dummy!” you retorted, rolling your eyes for maybe the 100th time in the class period.

if you hated gym before, you definitely hated it more now.

as the period ended, you decided to take a quick shower in the locker rooms since you couldn’t handle being all sweaty and gross throughout the day.

heeseung finished changing and was outside the locker room with his friends, chatting, waiting for the bell to ring. that’s when he may have accidentally eavesdropped the conversation between your two friends, he could barely the names of.

“where’s _____?” taehyun asked isa, noticing how you weren’t with her.

“she’s taking a shower right now, she told us to not wait for her.” Isa shrugged before taehyun nodded.

a beautiful idea popped in heeseung’s brain. it was too good.

he excused himself and sneakily waited by the girl’s locker room, waiting for everyone to come out. once he only heard the shower you were using running, he quietly entered the room. the bell had rang about a minute ago, so the gym was empty, only you and him. the gym teacher god knows where.

he saw his target and rapidly grabbed the pile of clothes sitting on the bench, a smirk evident in his face.

suddenly the shower stopped running, making heeseung hurry and exit the locker room.

the shower felt too good, you think you spent more time that you anticipated to. as you exited the shower tiles, you looked around for your clothes, which you remember clearly leaving them in the bench closest to the shower. you looked around the whole locker room, hoping you were wrong and placed them elsewhere. unfortunately, you couldn’t even find your damn socks.

your biggest fear has come true. you’re now naked, nothing but a towel covering you, this was more than just humiliating. you felt sad, mad, angry, embarrassed all at once. they’ve been stolen for sure, and you were more than sure on who did it.

grabbing your phone you called Isa, to see if she could help you somehow. and she indeed did. bringing you some spare clothes she had. thankfully, you always bring extra underwear since situations like these could happen. you just had to wait for isa for the clothes, yet the five minutes she took felt like five hours. unfortunately, passing period is over, meaning some students are coming in the locker room to change.

many of them just straight up stared at you. giving you weird looks as to why you were pretty much naked in the middle of the locker room, but none had the guts to ask you.

you wished the ground would just swallow you whole. lee heeseung won’t hear the end of it.

“LEE HEESEUNG!” you yelled across the field. he and his friends were siting down eating lunch outside when you spotted him after trying to find him after the stunt he just pulled.

heeseung knew it was coming, giggling with his friends as they heard you yell his name once again. “ oh she’s about to scold me now .” heeseung scoffed but still got up and went over to you.

“yes ma’am?” he said with a smile, you wish you could slap off but you’re better than that.

“YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID DO YOU KNOW HOW EMBARRASSING THAT WAS?”

“i have no idea what you’re talking about..” heeseung tried acting innocent but failed as he just burst out laughing. you groaned, how on earth is that funny?

“cute panties by the way” he continued to laugh, not sparing a glance at your mad expression on your face.

“you’re such an ass, i hate your guts.” you said leaving him alone, laughing to himself.

“yo bro i think she actually got mad this time.” his friend, jake came over.

heeseung shrugged. “she’s so sensitive, it wasn’t even that bad.”

“i can’t believe he did that…” taehyun said as you told them both what had happened. Isa knew a little bit but not who did it.

“that’s fucked up, what’s he got against you so much?”

you shrugged. “i guess because i gave his car a little scratch, but i guess he took it to heart since he hasn’t stopped bothering me since. he’s a jerk.”

“finally someone who thinks the same as me!” taehyun said making you chuckle.

“then get back at him! you know the one thing that makes him who he is is that damn football.” Isa said.

you tried to be the bigger person this whole time, not paying much mind to his little remarks or pranks he pulls, biting back a little wouldn’t hurt right?

“you know what, you’re right.”

“lee heeseung, mrs. park wants to speak to you.” mr.jung said calling heeseung.

heeseung who was barely paying attention heard his name. his frowned at this. what on earth could she want to talk about with him? either way, he went to her classroom.

he entered the empty classroom to find his coach and mrs.park, waiting for him. what the fuck? heeseung was more confused now. maybe they were going to congratulate him for the good work this semester? his coach’s face said otherwise though.

“there you are, you may be wondering why you’re here..” mrs.park started. heeseung nodded, feeling uneasy.

“a student came forward, showing how you copied word for word her whole assignment, the one i assigned a week ago. i didn’t notice it at first but it’s very clear now, you may know how cheating is unacceptable in my class, i’ve decided to fail you in this assignment, plus you’ll be serving detention this whole week..” she turned to the coach.

heeseung’s heart started beating at a rapid pace, he’s never been caught cheating, and being failed on the assignment that was a big part of his grade, it means he’s most likely failing the class now. the rules for football stated that all players should be passing all of their classes if not, they’ll be dropped….

no no no, the lee heeseung can’t be dropped. he’s the captain! the star player!

“since you’re failing this class heeseung, i think you know what’s about to happe-“

“please coach! don’t kick me out, i’m the captain! what would the team do without me? i’ll get my grade up as soon as possible im-“

“calm down calm down, i’m not going to kick you out, it’s the middle of the season, but unfortunately you won’t be playing the next three games. if your grade is not up by then, then i will drop you. understood?” his coach stated earning a sharp nod by heeseung.

he’s glad he’s still on the team but what’s the point if he can’t play? he’s going to become a joke. the captain that’s a bench warmer. how stupid.

he left the classroom enraged. he knows exactly who did this.

“bro what? what do you mean you ain’t gonna play ?” riki said in disbelief at what his captain just said.

“some snitch told mrs.park that i cheated on the last assignment and coach suspended me for the next three games, and i got detention all week!” sunghoon unknowingly chuckled. heeseung looked at him with a glare.

“what? she got you good, what did you expect hee?” sunghoon kept laughing, making some of the others also laugh silently.

heeseung had nothing to say back, he just rolled his eyes. “tch, whatever.”

nevertheless, you were overjoyed seeing heeseung slouching on the bench. you couldn’t miss this once in a lifetime scenario. obviously you were the cause for it. heeseung asks Isa almost all the time for her notes or to straight up copy her. she willingly let you rat him out after what he did to you.

he can sense how all eyes were on him, but he just tried to block everyone out a focus on the game. he had a poker face on, but deep inside he was irritated . he saw how you were smirking and laughing with your two little friends. you knew what you were doing.

>>

“ahh look who it is, the benchwarmer! “ you said chuckling as you made your way to heeseung.

after the team (barely) won, jake threw an ‘after party’ at his house. even though you don’t normally go to these parties, especially from those boys, you felt like a party would do good with your marvellous mood. something about seeing heeseung’s frowny face made feel over the moon.

“seems like cat got your tongue now huh? dont have anything to say-“

in a blink of an eye you were pulled into a room, heeseung’s fingers wrapped around your neck, pulling your face closer to his.

“what the fuck? heeseung-“

“shut the fuck up.” his hoarse voice caught you off guard. he was actually really mad.

“you think what you did it’s fucking funny? huh? almost getting me kicked out ? “ you’ve never seen him this enraged before. making you almost scared, yet….kinda turned on? no, you hate him, snap out of it! you told yourself yet the wetness in between your legs became hard to ignore.

you didn’t respond. “fuck, you’re so annoying, i can’t fucking stand you. i hate you.” he saw lowly. fuck that was hot.

you spoke before thinking. “then show me.”

not needing to tell him twice, heeseung pulled you completely in. your lips met in a kiss that was anything but gentle, a fierce and consuming clash that spoke longing and raw need.

The kiss deepened, fueled by an unspoken urgency, their mouths exploring each other with a fervor that left y’all breathless. his grip on your neck becoming tighter.

“shit im gonna show you to fucking behave.” he said before pushing you into the bed forcefully. you may have discovered a new kink of yours. watching as he undressed himself and yourself rapidly. feeling his anger through every touch he gave you.

he rubbed through your folds before inserting two fingers aggressively. your body jolted at the sudden move.

“holy shit go softer dumbass.”

“aw you think i give a fuck? suck it up and take it since you think you’re all that.” his fingers pumped faster and faster making it hard for you to answer back to his stupid remarks.

“oh my god..” you tried to pull his hand away before you cum. not wanting to see you orgasm so easily yet.

“just fuck me already heeseung, or is your dick as tiny as your brain?”

heeseung looked darkly at you. that stupid mouth of yours can’t shut up will it?

he retracted his fingers put of you and took his boxers off. wanting nothing more than to prove you wrong.

shit. your eyes went wide at what stood in front of you. saying he was big was an understatement. it was like a zipper for your mouth. how was that thing going to fit inside of you?

“can’t say anything now, can you slut?” he pulled your legs down the mattress to have you at the perfect angle to ram into you.

heeseung ran his til over your folds, teasing his way in. making you aggrevated.

“just put it in for fucks sake!”

“tell me how bad you want it.” you shook your head, no way were you going to beg. no way.

“alright then, i guess im gonna go.” he said letting go of your waist, acting as if he was going to leave.

“okay okay! please fuck me, i want it so bad, i want your big cock so bad heeseung.” heeseung moaned at your words. he didn’t wait any longer and thrusted all of him in you.

you both moaned yet it was more painful for you. you’ve never had something so big inside you before.

“fuck yeah..” he said then grabbing your neck, slightly choking you. your hands went to his biceps, trying to find something to hold on to as the speed he was thrusting in became more hostile.

“fuck me harder, like the asshole you are.” you said in between breaths. heeseung took the challenge and thrusted violently. the skin slapping and wetness of your core could probably be heard in the party outside.

“of course a whore like you would like to be fucked like this.”

before you could respond he pulled out of you earning a desperate groan from you, but then your were flipped, now on all fours and before you knew it he was back in you again. gripping your hip with one hand while he pulled your hair on the other.

“such a tight pussy, you probably fantasized about this am i right?” he said in your ear. you shook your head through your moan.

“in your dreams lee, in your fucking dreams. fuck you.”

“i’m quite literally doing that.” chuckling, he let go of your hair and instead gripped your other hip, going in deeper, nudging your cervix literally driving you to an edge.

“fuck i’m cumming.” you cried out. never has an orgasm felt like this. heeseung was on edge as well, feeling you clench around his dick did it for him.

your climax rose over you, making you fall into the pillow while heeseung kept thrusting until his own organs came over him, pulling out and releasing his white ropes all over your back.

tiredly, he laid besides you in the strangers bed, not knowing what to say now.

you turned to him, smirking. “i think i may hate you even more now.”

[stuckinapril]

what red flags should i look for in a man?

I actually feel like I’m a good person to ask this question, not bc I’ve had a long healthy relationship or anything, but bc I’ve humored walking red flags way more than I should’ve lmao. Btw this list doesn’t go for just men. It can apply to man, woman, or any human being across the board. Ok so:

When someone tells you they’re not ready for a relationship, BELIEVE THEM. Idc what the reason is. Idc if it’s bc they aren’t that into you or if they have shit going on. They just told u straight up. Appreciate that and just leave. Please. For me.

Piggybacking off that point—listen to people when they tell you who they are in general!!! This was a major 2023 lesson for me. People self-report all the time, whether it be friends or romantic interests. Most people are legitimately incapable of hiding who they really are. Pay attention. Do not ignore the signs, however small. I could’ve saved myself so much trouble if I didn’t just pretend Not to See.

Not consoling you when you need it because “they’re not good with emotions.” This is just an excuse for being lazy. They just don’t wanna put the work into being there for you properly—especially if you’ve already gone through the trouble of communicating this to them.

People who talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. Actions over words. Actions over words always.

Fuck overextended talking stages. If you wanna know more about me, let’s plan something in person. Otherwise you run the risk of getting attached to someone who’s possibly nothing like how they actually are in front of you.

If you’re having to “communicate” extensively with a person like a month in, as in there are lots of miscommunications and misunderstandings and things you don’t like about them or they don’t like about you, I’d probably just drop it. I learned this the hard way last year after burning through a lot of friendships where I found that we didn’t know each other that long at all, but there was already a plethora of problems to work through. This can apply to relationships just as well. If you’re asking a person to change this early in, or they’re asking you to change this early in, it’s probably just not a match.

Mostly talking about themselves. Not asking you anything about yourself in return. Ew.

It takes months to actually know a person’s true nature. That’s typically around the time people start showing their true colors. Ik a lot of people choose to commit like a month in, so just take that as u will.

Fucking competing with you. People who’re incapable of just being happy for other people without inserting themselves into it are insufferable. Immediate next.

This isn’t conscious behavior, and all of us are guilty of it, but people have an innate habit of taking advantage of your fantasies. If they know you’re desperate for their attention, they’ll get lazy (even if they don’t realize it). If they know they’re the object of your desire, they will leverage that to get your benefits without putting in the work. This is like playing cards and immediately showing someone your hand. Do not do that. This isn’t “playing hard to get”—it’s just guarding yourself until you’re sure you can trust the other person.

Not always the case, but a lot of times the way someone’s last relationship ended is pretty telling for how yours will go. ESPECIALLY if they’re not at all remorseful about how the last one went down, lol. You’re not the exception.

People are busy and taking a while to respond is O.K., but if it’s a continuous pattern of them taking forever to reply, it’s probably just a matter of priorities (and you’re not theirs). Sorry.

Pls take the ego out of the talking stage and recognize that love bombing is not flattering. I’ve reprogrammed my brain to where any time someone is doing way too much like three seconds in, I get the ick. I’ve legit dropped guys over this. It’s such a red flag to me. They either don’t have a life, or just are a natural love bomber (who will overwhelm you w compliments and attention only to fizzle out just as quickly), or they know exactly what they’re doing and they’re playing to your ego. Whichever it is, ick. Big ick.

The way they talk about other people is a major tell. This goes for friends and romantic interests. I think a bit of gossip will always be unavoidable, but if someone is liberally trash-talking other people—ESPECIALLY EX-FRIENDS OR EX-PARTNERS—you could literally be next. Anyone who thrives off badmouthing other people / hating on others / just generally not giving others grace doesn’t have exceptions. You’re their focus for now. It could just as easily be you tomorrow.

[bubble-dream-inc]

one kiss (is all it takes)

At first, you regretted agreeing to going to the game with the boys. Turns out a hockey game can be a lot more interesting than you thought.

Or; You and Price get caught on a Kiss Cam.

Pairing: Captain John Price x Reader

rbs greatly appreciated!

WC: 1.5K

a/n: i have no idea how a hockey game - or the military - works. anyways. this was written in an hour, is barely edited and not beta read lmao

tags: just pure fluff and Soap being a smug lil bastard :))

Sighing, you looked at yourself in the mirror one more time, accepting that yes, you did look as tired as you felt, but at that point you had no choice but to make your peace with it and try your hardest to rock those dark eye circles. At least you supposed your outfit looked presentable enough, since even if you were incredibly tired, you still felt like putting some effort into your appearance, telling yourself it was for no particular reason - or person - at all.

It had happened a couple of hours before. Sitting inside the bar across the street from the dingy hotel you and your teammates were staying after a successful recon mission, Soap and Gaz had disappeared for some time, returning later with a couple of tickets to a local hockey game. You found it best not to question how they got those, and, to be honest, you never pegged either of them to be into hockey, much like yourself, but Soap seemed so excited that you didn’t have the heart to tell him you were not looking forward to it one bit. Admittedly, you suspected the same thing happened with Price, who accepted the invitation somewhat hesitantly - you knew north american sports weren’t really his thing - and you admired Ghost for just saying ‘no’ to Soap’s face before returning to his cup of bourbon without another word. So that led you to where you stood at the moment, regretting falling into Soap’s trap and longing for your hotel bed that looked oh so comfortable. A knock on your door took you out of your reverie. Opening it, you found the devil himself standing outside with a smirk on his face.

“Hey, L.t. Ready to go?”  You rolled your eyes playfully at Soap’s nickname for your rank, humming in response while you fetched whatever you needed to go out from your room - making sure to grab a coat. 

Gaz and Price were already at the end of the corridor, waiting for the elevator, and, after greeting them both with a wave of your hand and a smile, you had to pretend to be very interested in the instructions written on the fire extinguisher by the wall to avoid gawking at your superior. It wasn’t often you got to see Price out of tactical gear and without his beloved boonie hat, and the sight of him in a basic and slightly too tight t-shirt under his jacket was doing things to you. Being pushed close to him in the impossibly small elevator once it arrived, too cramped for four soldiers to fit comfortably into, did not help you in the slightest. 

A short car ride later - and somewhat silent, since Soap had lost his aux cord privileges after the last time - you stood in front of the arena, swerving your way between the other attendees, except clearly less excited to be there. As the four of you looked for your seats, you wondered how long it would take for them to notice if you bolted to go back to the hotel and sleep, but decided against it. Soap and Gaz took the first two seats side by side, leaving you to sit at the other end, with Price on your left, and you found it both a blessing and a curse. As he removed his coat, clearly feeling too warm with the amount of people around, and left his bulky (and hairy) arms visible to the world, you decided it was more of a blessing. Not feeling like committing an HR violation, you scolded yourself to stop ogling at your unaware superior, too lost in your musings to realize he was side eyeing you with a knowing smirk. 

The first period flew by. You had no idea what were the teams names, you just know they were currently sitting at 1x0 when the first intermission rolled around, and, surprisingly, you were having a lot of fun. The crowd’s high energy and Soap’s enthusiastic cheering - even though he had said in the car he had no idea who was playing - was enough to make you momentarily forget how tired you were from the mission, and the fact it happened altogether. It was very rarely you got to enjoy some down time with your teammates, and that alone made you feel glad you accepted Johnny’s invitation.

Checking the time on your phone, you started scrolling through the various notifications, getting so immersed in the screen that you didn’t notice the way people around you were suddenly staring in your direction. Feeling observed, you looked up to the sight of people hollering and cheering around you, and, for some reason, Soap was angling his body out of his seat to look smugly at you, to which you only replied with a quizzical arch of your brow, receiving a nod upwards in response. Looking at the direction he nodded, you realized the huge screen in the middle of the stadium now displayed a banner written “Kiss cam.” 

Directly under a live feed of you and Price. 

That definitely could not be happening. 

Your blood froze, and you felt like you were both on fire and ice cold at the same time, trying to process what was going on in seconds. Instantly your brain conjured images of you watching with a side eye as Price rejected you publicly to the camera, probably sneering and making a “cut it out” motion with his hand, as if kissing you was something incredibly unimaginable. However, none of those visions came true, since, when you gathered the courage to actually look over to him - with what you imagined was a very wide eyed and flustered expression - he was actually calmly chuckling and smiling with that damn good looking smile of his. Looking this closely you could swear you saw a faint hint of red on his face as he turned to you with a very gentle gaze, clearly considering the idea and giving you a silent chance to back away if you didn’t feel comfortable with it. Of course, you knew that you would never even dream of shying away from an opportunity to kiss your very attractive Captain who you absolutely did not have a huge crush on, but he didn’t need to know that just yet. 

So, seeing no resistance from you, he leaned in closer and brought one of his huge hands to rest delicately holding your face, as if you were made of glass, and you felt like your heart stopped beating. Up close like this he smelled faintly of the cigar he liked to smoke and cologne he must have put on when you returned from the bar to get ready to leave for the game, and his blue eyes never looked so intense. You saw him smirk when you leaned in to meet him halfway before letting your eyes flutter close and your lips finally meet.

Kissing Captain Price was even better than you imagined. His mustache tickled your top lip and, in the background, you could hear the cheering of the crowd - particularly Soap’s hollers and someone, who you imagined was Gaz, wolf whistling - but you drowned it all to focus on the feeling of John’s lips moving against yours in a kiss that lasted a second, but felt like an hour inside your head. As you expected it, he did taste exactly like the cigar he smelled as, and a hint of mouthwash, and you found yourself embarrassingly sighing into the kiss. 

You decided you could spend a good few hours just kissing your Captain, but any second longer would be positively awkward for your audience, so, regrettably, you broke the kiss, almost going insane by the way he chuckled lowly against you before leaning back as well, giving the camera an uncharacteristic almost bashful smile. So much for not committing that HR violation. You didn’t find the courage to look anywhere, much less the damn camera, so you pathetically stared at your shoes instead, very aware of the way your face felt like a thousand degrees and you must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Distantly, you felt Soap’s eyes on you, burning holes in your face with what you imagined must have been the smuggest smile ever, but you didn’t turn to confirm your suspicions. 

Within seconds, the kiss cam had moved on, as well as the entire crowd, and you were the only one still dwelling on it as everyone cheered on another couple put on display. Trying to convince yourself it meant nothing, you shook your head and tried to pay attention to what was going on in the arena, something cut short when John Price himself discreetly leaned over for your ear, not turning his body or taking his eyes off the screen above you.

“You know,” He started above a whisper with his deep, gruffy voice. “If I knew you were such a good kisser, I’d have done this a lot sooner.”

With that, he leaned back into his seat, hand crossed above his stomach and a satisfied smirk on his face as he pretended not to notice the way you stared at him with wide eyes and your mouth gaping open like a fish.

That was going to be one long hockey game.

[sugudollz]

corrupting virgin suguru 🧎🏽‍♀️

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Corrupting virgin Suguru? Hm… yeah.

MDNI!! Virginity loss (Suguru obv). Big dick Suguru lmao. He refers to you only as “baby” (even though I was ITCHING to make him call you “mamas” I had to restrain myself. It just didn’t feel right.) AFAB reader. Experienced! Reader. Virgin Suguru has been on my mind since foreverrr 😩. Not proofread lol. I have a discussion due later today but erm. Um anon sorry if this is disappointing ummm THIS IS SO RUSHED SOMETHING CAME UP BUT I DIDN’T WANT TO MAKE YOU WAIT 😭. This was supposed to be so different bro…

“BABY, WAIT—” Suguru pants, watching as your hands reach down for the zipper of his jeans. His big hand shoots down for your wrists, holding them in a firm grip as he tries to recollect himself.

You bat your lashes up at him, feigning innocence and obliviousness. Giving him the prettiest look you can muster, you ask him in a sweet voice, “what? What’s wrong, Sugu?”

And of course it’s that look you pull every time you want something from Suguru. He loves it, your pretty eyes, gorgeous lips, except he hates it at the same time because he can never say no to that sweet look.

“Just… wait a sec…” Suguru mutters, cocking his head to the side as he takes in deep breaths. You pout but listen to him anyways. However, your eyes stayed glued to the obvious outline of his hard cock, how strained it looks and how tight it must feel.

Tonight, like every other night, was supposed to end in a few kisses after a nice, relaxing shower and comforting cuddles. Then go straight to bed. Like always, as if routine. The only thing different? You were feeling a little… impatient.

While your lips were pressed against Suguru’s, you slid your tongue right past his, then proceeded to scoot up on his lap. Your hands wandered from his chest to the back of his neck, securing your balance to push yourself closer against Suguru’s body. In the process, your clothed pussy rubs against his half hard dick, making you giggle and him gasp.

“Lemme do this, Sugu,” you mumble in the crook of his neck, your lips right against his flesh and your lashes tickling it. “Please?”

The way you speak so gently is so enticing; what is Suguru meant to do? Say no? Sighing, he lets go of your wrists and leans back, looking down at you as he notices an eager smile embrace your features.

Of course, Suguru has been thinking about this day ever since he met you. The feeling of your little hands wrapped around his length, or the feeling of your warm cunt enveloping his dick and clamping down on it. It’s what he’s fisted himself to every night before bed. Why wouldn’t he?

“Mm… mkay…” he mumbles, nodding his head and relaxing his body against the headboard of the bed. You jump from his lap to stand on your knees, legs on either side of him and hovering over him. Your hands make quick work of reaching for his zipper and undoing it, mouth practically salivating from the thought of fucking him.

After undoing his zipper, Suguru lifts up his hips to allow you to shimmy down his jeans. He watches in anticipation as you do your thing, sweat building at his forehead and in between his knitted brows as he sinks his teeth so harsh into his lower lip it almost draws blood.

Slowly, you rid Suguru of his boxers, your eyes aimed at him the whole time. Then, your eyes dart down to his freed cock when you hear his breath hitch.

“F-fuck…” he mumbles, throwing his head back as his hand flies to the sheets of the bed, clenching them tightly. Your eyes shine with lust, biting down on your tongue to suppress any unnecessary noises. You can feel your panties getting damp just from touching him, squeezing your thighs together for some friction.

After more and more gradually aggressive strokes, you come to an end and remove your hands. Suguru watches you attentively, eyeing the way you slide your skirt off of your waist, followed by teasingly removing your panties.

With your wet pussy almost fully exposed to Suguru, he gulps, eyes following as you take his cock and line it up with your pussy. After taking in a deep breath, you gently lower yourself on his length, gasping when you feel his tip enter you.

“Shit…!” Suguru pants, doing his best to keep watching the way you lower yourself onto his dick. You’re watching it as well, the way your wet cunt sucks him in, sweat forming between your knitted eyebrows.

“Mmph—Suguru, you’re so deep—” you whine, sucking your stomach in as if that’d make it any easier to take him fully. “So big…” you mumble.

That’s when Suguru is as deep in as you can take, already on the verge of whining.

“You feel so…” he trails off, already lost in the feeling of your tight walls hugging his cock in every right way. That was new, obviously, your juices dripping down on his length.

“M gonna start moving now, ‘Kay, pretty boy?” You whisper sweetly, but your eyes are telling a different story. Suguru takes a few seconds to collect himself before he nods and breathes out a quiet, “okay,”

You start moving your hips up and down, Suguru’s hands flying for whatever stability he can find to keep him grounded to earth. As much as he tries to keep his attention on your pretty face, he just can’t because the way your pussy grips him like a vice is too overwhelming he just has to squeeze his eyes shut.

His cock stretches you out so well, and he didn’t even know it. Murmurs of “fuck,” slip past Suguru’s lips repeatedly, his shirt riding up his torso and exposing his skin.

Suguru never thought this is where his day would end, but he’s glad it did. After months of getting himself off to unrealistic and repetitive porn videos, he’s finally feeling the godsent gift that is your warm pussy sucking his cock in, and it seems like you’re enjoying it too.

Suguru has never touched a woman sexually. He doesn’t know how to move his hips to give you pleasure. But of course he wants to help you, so he bucks his hips up into you, groaning when your walks clamp down on him. You whimper at the stimulation, throwing your hands on Suguru’s sweaty chest, digging your nails into the flesh.

“F-fuck, Sugu—don’t do that—” you whine and your head drops as you pant, putting a halt to your hips. Suguru nods and slowly opens his eyes to meet your sweaty body.

“Alright, shit, my bad.” And you start bouncing again, fucking your pussy onto his cock steadily, your tits jiggling from the effort. You can feel the tip of his dick hitting that sweet spot inside of you, making you moan with every push. “Feels so good…” he says that quietly, almost inaudibly, and he can feel his dick twitching inside of you, as can you.

Suguru then realizes that this is way better than fucking his own cock at night—the way your walls easily get stretched out from the sheer size of his girth, the warmth of your cunt, just the feel of it, it had his eyes rolling back. Being a sorcerer all of his Highschool years and even after, his never had the chance to get laid or any of the sort, so this is a thrilling new feeling. He can already feel his lower abdomen tightening, legs twitching and breaths shaky.

Of course, you can feel the change in his body language and demeanor. Smiling smugly, you lean down to his ear, attempting to keep the steady rhythm of your hips as you breathe into his ear.

“Gonna cum?” The words roll of your tongue with a hint of playfulness laced in your tone. Suguru huffs and grunts, nodding his head as if he was tired.

“Yeah,” his voice is breathy when he utters this. You giggle and raise your hips just before aggressively slamming back down to his pelvic bone, the cock hitting all the right spots. Suguru’s hands immediately fly for your waist, digging his fingers into the flesh but he tries to keep his hold gentle.

Continuing with your sly movements, you can feel a knot in your tummy tying. Suguru, as with every other thing about you, notices the way your pussy grips tightly onto his girth and the way your hips get sloppy and exhausted.

“Cum, Suguru,” you whisper sensually, and in response, Suguru’s head snaps your way, confusion painted on his face.

“I-in you…?” It’s obvious he’s a bit nervous, since of course he doesn’t want to put a baby in you the first time he’s entered your pussy.

“Mhm,” you hum and to that Suguru just exhales deeply. In just seconds, Suguru is emptying his load inside of you, groaning and moaning the whole way. His head is thrown back in the process, his teeth sunken into his lower lip. He repeats your name under his breath like a prayer, along with murmurs of “fuck” and “so good”.

It’s a great feeling, the sensation of orgasming. His eyes roll to the back of his head and you’re fucking him the whole way through, which is what brings you to your climax. You’re gushing all over his cock, whines and whimpers falling from your parted lips. Burying your head in his neck, your sweat drips down onto his skin.

Your juices coat his dick, and Suguru opens his eyes just to watch it—but they soon wander to your pretty face like it was second nature, and it’s there he sees how gorgeous you look as you come down from your high.

“I love you so much,” Suguru pants and from the sudden confession you’re caught off guard, but smile lovingly anyways and kiss his neck.

“I love you, too,”

You carefully bend your upper body over Suguru’s, your face in the slope of his neck and Suguru doesn’t even think to mention the fact that his cock is still buried in your sweet pussy.

© 2023 sugudollz only on Tumblr — do not copy, repost, translate, or steal.

[satocidal]

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ “Opposites Attract?!”— Gojo Satoru

Synopsis: the famous rich boy of the campus and the Dean’s daughter? Scandalous—especially when they’re both jealous as hell.

— A/n: Roughly based on something from my real life lmao— except that we didn’t get together because hehe. Also, this is the first part of a kinkmas fic that I have planned, it’s been broken since the fic was getting too long <3 (both can be read stand-alone!) Tagging @romiyaro @draecys @maeby-cursed because yes; nsfw version <3

— Word count: 5.7k

— warnings: Fem! Reader x Satoru Gojo; slightly suggestive Suguru and Mei Mei (they deserve to be warnings here); undertones if jealousy; a kiss (or three) at the end, I know—scandalous right; Reader wears spects in one scene; this has a LOT of bickering. Just banter for that matter, reader says smn about sex work BUT I assure you it’s not supposed to be in a negative light <333

4.5 g.p.a—a perfect reputation that you held, a decent social life—an amazing father to back you up, you weren’t ever part of the fraction of people who got in through with scholarships, why would you when your father stood as the dean? —but you’d worked for it.

3.7 g.p.a—it could’ve been far better, easily, if he only put himself in—far too loud a social life with a following of 4k+ on his Instagram while he only followed back his best friend and pretty little things (for a day or so)—part of the fraction who got paid in, who never struggled for it.

Sure, you hadn’t really struggled either—but hypocrisy was only allowed to one and you chose to take your chance.

You didn’t…despise him, the man that Gojo Satoru stood out to be, but lords, you hated the concept around it.

The loud cackle at the back of each lecture—the proxies and his fan girls, you hated it all.

More so, you hated just how enamored your dad was—after all, it was Gojo Satoru that had won the trophies and the plaques—Satoru Gojo that was a Power Player.

But the credit wasn’t to be forgotten for you too—dabbling in all that was academic, if the second half of your dad’s office as the dean were filled with Satoru’s achievements, the first half was yours.

Two sides of the same coin.

Your eyes never left your dad for a second, “you can’t possibly expect that out of Me dad,” the whine wasn’t subtle, nor the snicker that gojo let out at your words and outlet—earning a hard glare.

And to all the pampering and spoiling your father had to offer, it all failed when it came down to the pride and prestige of the university.

“It’s non-negotiable y/n,” the sleek brown in his room shone that afternoon, polished—every groove, every rounded corner—almost a story to behold.

“Yeah! Tell her Mr.Dean,” another snicker- another glare, your father sighed in his dismay.

“You,” your father glared at him, “need to find a way to shove it in your schedule as well—you’re both the elected representatives.”

To end with all whines and groans.

“I have no idea how but I need you two to find a presence of mind and perform your best in curating an experience at the fest. Dismissed.”

A sharp inhale, yours and the roll of Satoru’s eyes, your dad was aware how interesting an evening and a fest in general he would be witnessing.

You’d known Gojo Satoru for 3 years now, spending the last together at the University, standing as the President of Student Council—all against Gojo’s constant “nepotism” comments while he stood as the Captain of the Football Team—against your criticism as well.

A certain peak in the way you two governed your particular fields independently but, together?

Well.

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t always that you both disliked each other but, you couldn’t exactly deny the certain distaste the day you’d set eyes on him…

-

~First Year~

“Dad, please, make sure that no one knows that you and I are, at all related,” a chuckle your father let out, “of course darling, but don’t get prissy when I don’t let you out with attendance matters and all,”

Another chuckle shared, nothing too serious.

“I’ve heard Gojo Satoru will be joining this year too?”

An innocent question, curious is all you were—anyone would be, one of the best the country had seen in years.

Your father nodded slowly, “just so happens to be true, stay in check though, don’t want messing with people like that,”

It was evident, the wary tone that your father had acquired over the years, dealing with all that was the ego of such students, who stood tall with the heap of money that belonged to their daddies.

A slow nod you passed too—your father smiled, you were a smart girl after all.

But fate was decided and what had to happen would happen for sure.

Because you swore to maintain the secret, you weren’t to be even found to have the slightest relation of blood with the Dean — but then whatever could you do when you step out blindly, bumping right into the guy you wanted not to.

A hiss and a curse—“the fuck? Watch where you’re going,” he mumbled-eyes boring into yours, and then simultaneously, at the car.

Anger that flashed down right—“watch your damn language,” unironically, you muttered—something he’d never let you live down.

“Woah there princess, what are you on? Some patrol duty round here-?” The smirk was infuriating, his disheveled hair all the more—especially when he continued messing it up all the more.

A scoff, yours—“Mind your own business,” a shove passed and an attempt to move away—“Y/n L/n?” He held your campus manual.

The certain way your name rolled off his tongue, it caught your attention—“ya dropped this,”

A smirk adored his face as he handed back to you the campus manual, of course it wasn’t anything you required but to solace your father, there you held it.

A cramped “Whatever,” you let out, snatching the booklet from his hands quick—wanting nothing more to do with the stranger that you’d bumped into.

Just as you walked away though, “L/n huh?” The words, his, that you knew would cause you issues.

-

“He’s Satoru Gojo?” Your surprise lay hidden under the music that boomed all too loud—watching closely the white haired boy you’d bumped into a couple days ago.

“Yeah? You didn’t know?” The grin on your now best friend, and then just-roommates-friend offered little help.

Of course you hadn’t, and now you wish you didn’t still.

It was true you’d spotted him all so much over the past few days, and the people that followed him and the rumors still—unaware to why and how.

But now, with all the pieces in your hand you wanted to hide away—especially when those blue eyes stared right back—with a grin he trampled over.

“Oi! L/n right? We met at the first day?”

You cringed at how loud he spoke—so very sure that absolutely everyone could hear him, all over the booming music.

A subtle nod you passed, trying to get away from the spotlight he’d casually thrown round you.

“Your dad’s the Dean right?”

Silence- literally, just as he said that, the music system paused too—you wanted to curse your luck.

Widened eyes—star-struck stares from all those adored Gojo, amused ones at you from everyone who bothered to think.

You’d have considered lying—unless Satoru Gojo hadn’t chosen to be a dick about it, “You guys have the same last names so I thought- and then, the other when we bumped into each other- remember?” He chuckled as a couple of girls let out audible gasps, envious that you had already touched him so.

Before opportunity even lay still, he continued, “so I thought, because frankly either you’re his daughter or…you know, mistress—but that I doubt,” you wanted to punch away the grin he held, the snicker and the secrets he dropped out like flies.

So while you stood there, waiting for the ostracism—Gojo only giggled, “Don’t worry though, you’re fine, got more of your mom’s genes right?”

Fuming, you stood there—red that masked your vision—“excuse you?” A brow remained cocked, Gojo’s facial expression never once changed—it was about to.

“You’re one to talk about dads huh? Your daddy donated in just about how much into your esteemed football team huh? To get you selected?”

Satoru wasn’t new to comments such, in fact that’s what he’d built his career over but just the way you said it—just the way your angry face stared back at him—he found you annoying, adorably so.

That night, Satoru’s fan following increased by a decent thousand or so, people became aware of you and maybe, you realized, being the Dean’s daughter wouldn’t be that bad a fact.

But all the more, Gojo and you formed a sudden bond still, dislike and nothing less masking the two of you whenever the other was mentioned.

A farce? Maybe—but you were easily, in too deep to stop now.

Often nights you spent, thinking how the two of you could be friends—but huge egos that clashed in, something told you it wouldn’t happen all so easily.

-

The following week and there on were interesting—you joked all week that you’d blocked Gojo, you never did.

Gojo swore he’d have you black-listed for being so audacious—he never did.

When the huge messaging group—meant to be dead in a day—was formed, you both ended up saving each other’s number discreetly, never to approach it again, at least for a while.

And that was just how it went on “he annoys me so much,” and “she annoys me so much,” but little by little, small steps in the dark—you both were each other’s biggest cheerleaders still- applauding each other louder than anybody else.

Hands clutching onto your notepad you continued jotting down the points—fingers working fast so as not to let a single bright thought escape you.

The event was huge—the University’s 150th Anniversary—perfect, grand, extravagant—to be organized partially, by you.

There was time, plenty—absolutely 1 months before the panic would settle in, 2 before it would be over.

But seconds were quick—hasty in the way they changed into minutes, hours to come and days passed by, never realized.

A finger raised to push your spects up the bridge of your nose—you sighed, eyes landing on the form in front of you—mouth ajar and his sunglasses fixated in his hair, another piece of candy tossed up high before he caught it in his mouth.

A frustrated sigh you let out—“can you please sit straight and help?”

His eyes bore into yours- cerulean, they were pretty, almost prettier than the whole of him, you hated it.

“Isn’t it your job?” A grin he passed, a clench of your jaw was all you could—“we’re in this together, don’t give me that bullshit,”

Another grin, “talk to me when you need booze,”

“You don’t even drink,” the words fell out your mouth all so quick, hesitant you looked at him—“how do you know?” It was an amused smirk that he held, it annoyed you how the man in front seemingly only talked in three supposed emotions.

A small break, “well, I uh- noticed through the parties,” it was true, you did notice through the parties—it was hard not to, since you didn’t drink—you couldn’t be all so sure about the rest.

“You notice me at parties? You notice me at all?” Urges inside you that had to be controlled, such a perfectly punchable face Satoru Gojo held—“help me work on this damn idea,” you mumbled, ignoring all of what he wanted to discuss.

A roll of his eye and yours—“not gonna do it so easily,”

A huff you let out.

Frustration at peak.

“Actually,” your voice was quieter than you expected it to be, “wouldn’t it be better if you were there to advise us? Me? You’ve been organizing parties for so long and,” your face turned towards him—smile never faltering at his disgusted expression—he knew what you were doing, he wasn’t new to sugar coating after all, “I would love learning from the best.”

Jaw clenched, hands sauntered over to the back of your chair—most would consider it an action of endearment, you knew better.

“I would beg to differ Ms. Daddy’s princess,” Your blood boiled at his ignorance—sure, he was Satoru Gojo—but nothing gave him the right to act superior when he stood at his father’s money itself.

Hell, all he was meant to be was just a batchmate, captain of a stupid team that barely mattered—you?

Sure, a well suited empire would never land on your back, nor a fortune as his until you’d worked half your life into it— but you were better, you knew it. Denial onto his privilege to negate the Authorities could’ve never been acceptable by you.

your eyes remained stuck onto the ground —defiant—“well, i suppose it would only be for the best,” stubborn you sat and so did he—stuck in between the thickening tension.

“The best,” his voice exasperated, “would be for someone like you to sit back down and do as you’re told.”

Mouth hanging just in the slightest, you dared not to meet his face—focusing on the little stains and creases you’d administered on your sneakers—eyes sneaking onto his pair, perfect, as expected.

“That’s a little rich, coming from you—”

“—and this is the best they’ve found? You? To help me huh?”

Bigoted. Nose flared, curses at the tip of your tongue and you could do nothing as he further scoffed, “getting a privileged bitch to do my job, now they know my worth huh?”

“Excuse you?” Shaky, you sat—words spilling out before you could stop it—“your worth? Absolutely as nothing, but a spoiled man-baby who cannot deal with things maturely?”

Confusion marked his face—of course he would be, all so blind to the simple generosity that gets offered to him—all so he can kick a ball.

“The event is in 2 months sir,” address regained to the topic, you spoke flatly, “I would well appreciate that you helped us in the organization of said fest—if not, well, it would be a sheer pity that the entire football team would have to suffer,”

And there lay your ultimatum, naked and threatening—and he knew it was all but empty.

“L/n,” Gojo coughed—not quite sure, uneasy evidently, with the tension that hung lose in the atmosphere—“You maybe influential in your own ways on the campus but-”

“-but I’m just a student here, as you are,” you looked directly at Gojo now, “And to adhere to rules is the basic of most authoritative environments. So I suppose, you’ll be all the more pliant in helping us plan the fest and encouraging our juniors to help us out.”

Defiant—squinted eyes of Gojo simply stared blankly—“Alright,” he muttered.

“If help is what you want, that’s what you’ll get.”

And the deal was settled—to your compromise and his.

-

A week had passed since—the discomfort only grew.

“What the fuck? You’re speeding rumours now?” Rough were the words that greeted you first the moment the two of you entered the study you currently sat in—a half shrug you passed him, “I would need help and rather than begging you for it, why not just keep you as my assistant?”

“Excuse you?” His tone, bewildered as he shut the door behind the two of you—“Your assistant?” He barked out a laugh—“They really are making sheer idiots now huh?”

“Says daddy’s little prince who couldn’t use his academics to get in like everyone else,”

A scoff he passed—“How very original, at least my daddy has the power and how is yours, at all better?” he let his words trail off, a smirk on his lips as he pulled a chair to lounge in, and well, all cases be true, his dad probably had more money than you could imagine.

The certain charm of Gojos, after all.

“Don’t gotta flex your daddy’s sex work like that buddy,” you muttered, pulling a chair across him—peculiar you found it that he didn’t do so much as throw a fit in objection to the forced responsibility.

“Just giving inspiration baby,” he drew out—he winked, phone pulled out fast as he typed, you sat by forgotten.

A roll of your eyes—“Help me at least,”

Silence- you sighed.

“You’re supposed to help,” again, the very same cold air met you—“Gojo,”

“Nope.”

A sharp intake of breath and you stared at him, had it not been for the pretty face he had you’d have punched him long ago—a second too long you stared however, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,”

Another eye roll—“Just fucking help me,”

“Ain’t gotta princess,” he finally looked up, “I’m here to advise you right?”

An inhale, exhale—biting down on your teeth you nodded, “Of course,” you muttered—which was what had led you to the current situation, tired, exasperated and annoyed.

An hour and a half, slow—very, spent staring a few times at the blank paper and then the ceiling, often Satoru Gojo and then his phone; a couple ideas popped by here and there, all useless—you knew that.

“You know,” you spoke carefully, “As someone who’s helping you bunk without losing attendance, you should really really be thankful,”

“A bouquet will be present in your dorm tonight doll,” not a single glance spared still—it was frustrating simply to sit such.

A sharp exhale you let out, head hung back—this was a stupid idea.

“You know what?” Chair pushed back, you stood up—“I’ll manage,” fingers clutched hard onto your notepad—it hurt when he didn’t do so much as even shrug as you moved towards the door.

Silence, as you turned the handle of the door to leave—not even a look from him.

You despised him.

#6942619412: Yo [11:54 p.m.]

Your eyes narrowed at the sudden text that popped up—ignorance enveloped you still, eyes focused onto the book of applied physics in front of you—regret boring into you as you tried your best to drill the concepts into you, preparing yourself for the soon-to-end semester exams.

#6942619412: busy? [11:56 p.m.]

You ignored still, creeped a little at the protrusion—not enough to let your book down—

#6942619412: idc [11:58 p.mp]

#6942619412: show me your plans [11:58 p.m.]

Face scrunched in annoyance, you stared at your screen—the periodic chimes of notification and the switch from the dull background to immediate light up—Satoru Gojo was somehow a master at infuriating you.

However, as stubborn as lay, you were no better—‘ignorance is bliss’ they said, and you were all too prepared to test it out.

#6942619412: bro wtf. Reply. [12:03 a.m.]

You noted mentally, the time gap between his texts—a sly smile adorning your face. Something in you screamed to not do it—to not go against Satoru Gojo such—the certain something fell to deaf ears as a shit-eating grin you beheld, typing your words in.

You: it’s pathetic of you to message like this [12:03 a.m.]

You: desperate? [12:03 a.m.]

A minute went by, then another—you sighed.

It was perhaps, a bad idea— chime!!

#6942619412: it’s needy of you to message back [12:04 a.m.]

#6942619412: you desperate? [12:04 a.m.]

A smirk—yours, a smirk—his.

You: you realize the first text of your day is to me? [12:04 a.m.]

#6942619412: you realize you’re taking note of how my day goes? [12:05 a.m.]

You: because you decided to bother me in mine—get to whatever you were saying [12:05 a.m.]

#6942619412: there there princess—I demand respect and send me your ideas- or better still I’ll come over to your dorm [12:06 a.m.]

Your eyes remained fixed at the screen; ‘come at your dorm’? Was he stupid?

You: there’s no need to come here gojo. I’ll send you everything right now.

You waited, patiently, however, ever so cruel—time was always slow, especially when waiting onto someone. 5 minutes grudged slow- you were afraid that he would actually show up. Would he?

No, of course not— even for him this was absurd, given the security and the time at night—he was probably asleep—

Knock.

A twist of your window pane’s handle- a thud of your heart and widened set of eyes.

Another knock and you were at your feet, stupidly, opening the window—widening it to welcome Satoru Gojo is your room—scandalous.

A smirk he held, form towering yours by a decent couple inches, “Neat room,” he whistled as he stood awkward, unsure onto whether to place himself until he found your study—making himself comfortable on the spot you just sat.

“Applied physics?” Curiosity laced his voice and a shrug you responded with — “So what?” You muttered, reaching in to close the book—he certainly took note of the tiredness your voice held.

“So you’re an idiot—it’s a tough field.”

Another shrug—“Gets me going and nothing could’ve sucked more than chemistry so,”

A snort he lay bare—only then did you realize how quiet it was, soft breaths, the new morning dancing about the timelines—your gaze on his, and his on yours. How so eccentric—not.

“You couldn’t deal with chemistry? Gotta be dumb or some shit,”

You scoffed—knowing where he was leading it, “do we really need me to redo the whole ‘got in because of your dad’ shit here?”

He grinned wide—and just then you noticed the perfect set of teeth—the ones you’d hoped to punch and break some day, “I think I’d wanna skip it tonight baby,”

“Don’t call me that,”

“Prissy, eh?”

A scrunch of your face, a wink his.

“Why, and dare I ask, how, did you get here?” Brows raised, expression amused as he paced about your room—taking it in, familiarizing himself.

“Don’t worry onto that doll, just show me your ideas,”

Your eye twitched, it was simply alien to you—the feeling of being treated normal by him. By Satoru Gojo- reality set in straight Every Time you realized that something in you, even if small, craved his attention, his validation.

Maybe that was why you were hurt—when he’d ignored you initially, when he’d shove you in the hall without a thought spared—when his gaze was all so disrespectful Everytime you approached Him.

Maybe it was just the social construct of it all.

Maybe it was something else.

So surprise was bound to grip you hard— he wanted your ideas?

“Well?” Fidgety, you noted his actions to be—nervous? You wouldn’t be sure.

“Why?”

A shrug, half hearted, “I heard stuff on you,” and now your interest sat piqued, “They say you’re as good as me when it comes down to getting shit done,” a wink—you gagged internally at his words- his charm?

Not quite so.

“You’ve been snooping around since the past week? Got you that hooked?” A smirk you channeled, unsure still- suspicious more so.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he muttered—his eyes were quicker, quicker that yours, cerulean, I suppose something to do with the color of them—all too pretty to have one care about anything besides themselves.

“I’ve heard of your accomplishments beforehand, you know it—you just weren’t so important and most of the time I was trying to stay off your radar,” his face panned towards the shelf you kept full of books—“but you did interest me,”

A scoff let’s your lips, “Anything with a vagina and boobs will interest you,”

“Hey now-” and for a second he seemed offended, not that you cared, “don’t forget about the ass—and please, I sincerely accept dicks too.” And just at that you chuckled slightly—a small win he deemed it, “man-whore,” you muttered past him- closing your books and grabbing onto the notepad from before.

“Here,” you handed it over— a sudden feeling of embarrassment washing over—after all, as much of a jerk he was, Satoru Gojo sincerely was experienced and amazing at what he did.

Lips pursed, you stared as he read through the stuff- “I know it’s all too-” a hand raised to quieten you, he continued reading—quick at that too.

It took him a minute or so, to go through each of the 4 pages you’d jotted down—“Not bad,” you nodded, “not the best,” you bit your tongue.

“I uh- i know it’s a little extravagant?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “or more so, it’s not very realistic? You have steps planned out and …you know, it’s supposed to be done by humans not machines,”

Your eyes raised in understanding, you weren’t too sure, but just enough.

“Put yourself into it—you’re cool you know that?,” eyes squinted, you watched him carefully- not a word let out.

“Just a little…uptight, learn to let go,”

“how do I…?”

He grinned, “have fun figuring that out—the ideas were cool, gotta go now doll,” you blinked once, twice, and without a word he was gone—you let him. However could you even ever stop him?

And you knew well, the rumbling in your room was sure to get your father awake.

A click on the lock—you closed the window behind him—swift was the way he came about, annoying, the way he left. And yet you still stood alone in the room, pacing about with a dorkish smile.

And only five minutes after he’d left, after the daze was gone—you noticed the bouquet of jasmines on your bedside—huh.

Certainly understood the charm now—especially when your eyes focused onto your phone right before closing.

#6942619412: you’re actually cute when you’re not frowning yk? [1:05 a.m.]

You went to sleep.

~Three weeks before the Fest~

“I’d say it’s coming along amazing,” another fruit roll up popped into his mouth—the fifth packet in last three hours, you were only surprised how he wasn’t sick of them yet.

A nod you passed—“but they’re slow-”

“-because they’re people, they are bound to be slow,”

Another nod.

There was something that Satoru Gojo did help you with, and there was something you’d helped him with as well—his eyes panned onto the elaborate list of numbers he’d gathered, oh how you’d spun the man, Satoru ‘never gonna help nobody’ Gojo into your actual assistant.

“Tell me though, when will you order the booze?”

“It’s an official thing- how can you expect booze to be there?” A ridiculed laugh met you—“ever heard of sneaking shit in princess?”

Of course you had, given that Satoru Gojo snuck himself into your room almost every night, uninvited—so far as to snickering when you squeaked out lies to your father about talking to your friends.

“Shut up, there will be no beverage,” he chuckled at your formal tone, beverage, “you and I, or anyone can get expelled for that—it happened last year,”

“You’re your daddy’s only princess though,”

“And you’re not,” a deadpan from you shut him up quick—“dad’s gonna be mad if he finds it, I won’t be expelled but you might, especially given your record and everything—and yes that means your captaincy and everything too,”

A month ago, the nervousness on his face would’ve made you chuckle—giddy maybe but now it only troubled you for him—hours spent on the floor of your bedroom had opened up conversations after all.

“But you’ll save me right?”

He stared at you; you stared back, you noted the closeness.

There was no reply to be offered—but it did ruin the small moment to hear the causal, “Satoru~” from the lips of her, Mei Mei, long time family friend of his and an equatable annoyance to Satoru Gojo.

Both of your faces whipped to meet hers, yours scorned while his broke into a grin—“Oi!” He chuckled—arms spreading out to greet her, hug her.

“Y/n,” she greeted you too, a smile you passed back—part of your council members after all—“how’s the planning going?”

“Fantastic,” tight lipped you muttered—“fabulous,” she grinned, “mind if I steal Toru’ for a second?”

You mentally gagged at her—‘steal Toru for a second’—except those seconds never really were seconds, rather hours and to your utter annoyance, Gojo never add moves to counter it.

“Of course!” And just like that, gone, daily.

A sigh you let out, staring at the preparations—“why’d you let them walk over you all the time?” A deep voice met you, “Suguru?”

A short smile, a short breath of cigarettes met you—in the best way, “Good day to you too,” he grinned, patting the seat beside him, eyes stuck on his best friend and his rendezvous partner.

“You as , and what exactly do you suppose I do? Stop them?”

“He’s your assistant, ain’t he?”

“Yes but-”

“Am I seeing you finally turn into a push-over, like all the other girls when it comes to him?” All in good humor he spoke, but mostly because it was true.

You were bending your walls for a certain someone—it didn’t feel right.

“You think I shouldn’t?”

“I think you should only if this lasts after the rest as well,”

“Will it?”

A pause, a shrug, “I don’t know, ask him.”

You stared at him—“why are you two the legitimate same at advices? And equally bad?” A laugh met you—“go on, ask him—because as of now, Mei Mei seems to have done what she wanted,”

“Huh?”

A look at him and then at them, your heart sank—he was kissing her, your heart sank more, why were you so bothered by it?

A nervous chuckle you passed to Suguru, an empathetic one he did, “it’s fine,”

“Yeah.”

———

It wasn’t fine, hell it was far from fine—especially when you saw them together there on, all the time.

3 weeks, dates here and there—she was around you all the time, and him, it was infuriating in all aspects of the word.

“Who’re you going with?” Almost everyday he questioned, and you never had an answer because somehow, just something in you had made you reject every proposal—something in you supposed that you two would go together.

You were the organizers—but then, it was no rule.

And even if it was, Satoru Gojo wasn’t big on rules.

-

“Ready?” Suguru grinned, last minute date that you’d found—all so grateful that you stood.

A small nod with a smile you passed—“how do I look?”

“Gorgeous,” another smile, wider—eyes however, they remained stuck onto Gojo.

“It’s not about him tonight doll,”

“It’s never about him,” you mumbled—melancholy—ironic onto how the entire fest that you’d built was based off of youth and what not.

But it was about him, everything was about him- especially in the way your dress, bought just for the occasion was the same cerulean, your hair was braided just how he once mentioned liking, you were wearing the perfume he bought you for you.

Everything.

And you despised all of this everything while having nothing.

“Yo! Y/n,” you paused, Suguru did too—his smirk widening, as did Mei Mei’s, Satoru walked- sauntered over.

“Don’t you look hot?” The grin was wide, your nose scrunched in disgust, “you’re reeking of alcohol,”

He was—of course he was, right after you’d advised him not to.

“Chill, nobody’s gonna know-”

“-we have to meet my dad in 15 minutes.”

“…oh.”

“Well anyways, I see you came with Suguru? You’ve been getting close?”

Your eye twitched—so he did see it—“yeah he’s cool, and helpful, unlike you,”

A giggle, “I have a life outside of you, remember?” Your blood boiled—“of course you do, enjoy it.”

A sharp turn you made, lips bitten, unsure, uncertain—“Honestly though, if I weren’t with Mei tonight I’d actually fuck ya “

Your jaw clenched at the audacity—the other two, Suguru and Mei Mei long disappeared as you flared daggers into Satoru’s soul.

“Can you take one thing seriously? You- you bloody idiot I can’t even-” you whipped around to face him again—eyes boring into his.

Satoru, even in his drunken state knew it would last long, the lecture, a hand pulled you in very quick, a corner, secluded.

“Stop fucking shouting,” slurred his words, they lay bare.

“What do you want me to do then? You- you- I- ugh.” You paused, hard breaths let out—“you’re so fucking annoying.”

“Annoying? You’re the one screaming woman,” the small smirk that he adored annoyed you all the more so.

“Excuse you? I’m annoying?” And at that moment, you let go, “I’m annoying after you spent three weeks fucking with Mei Mei? I’m annoying after you’re the one acting irresponsible? I’m annoying after you ended up treating me like all your others girls? I’m annoying after- after you just chose to walk all over me- I’m annoy- mmph!”

Words lay interrupted quick, a rough hand reeled you in while the other held your head, the kiss was soft, passionate of one would call it, sloppy in the way his lips attached to yours, hungry.

And amusingly, unlike all things Gojo, this did not feel wrong.

But it wouldn’t help your emotions being all over the place—“what the fuck?” You asked, the moment he pulled away—“was it that bad?” An amused chuckle rolled off his lips.

“No? You can’t do this- we can’t just kiss- I-”

“-okay, then take it back,” and just like that, he pulled you in again, lips attaching once more, hands exploring each other easy, slow gasps of breath as you pushed him away this time.

“N-no you- I don’t- what? You take it back,” and almost as if his alcohol was on your mind too, you pulled him in this time—a small peck, harsh, Satoru loved it all the same.

Frustrated you pulled away, grinning his hand held your wrist—“don’t go,” he mumbled, your face contorted into the expression which screamed your annoyance.

“Don’t go? Fuck you Gojo. Fuck you and your damn ego and the audacity you have,” your breaths were shallow, the two stood so close.

“Don’t kiss me when you’re with someone else—you might be a whore but-”

“It was for you,” another mumble, quieter, “to get you jealous and I think it worked?”

A pause.

“And The alcohol?” You whispered—he loved it though, the way you prioritised the reputation above him—somehow you humanised him, “only I’ve drunk it, no one else—to…get your attention,”

“But you never drink…”

“And I never fucked Mei either, or kissed her…or anyone since you,”

“That’s supposed to make me feel special?” It did, but you were done for the day.

“I think so…?”

You blink, once, twice and instead of the third that Satoru expected a sharp slap landed on his face.

“You’re very fucking dumb,” while one hand clutched the cheek he’d been hit at, the other still held your hand, pulling you closer when he heard your choked words—eyes widening at the wetness in your eyes.

“L/n…” a sigh, “fuck I’m- fuck.” He held you close, unnatural to your relation, you let yourself be held.

————

“Sorry?”

You glared at him, the Music blared behind you loud— the both of you stood outside your father’s office, “we’ll deal with that later.”

A slight nod, Satoru was glad you even agreed to talk to him, Satoru was glad you even looked at him—Satoru was simply glad you were standing beside him.

A knock, two more, you walked inside—Satoru, as advised by you stood outside—your father would know of course, instantly.

The room seemed a breath of freshness as you walked, away from the stench that Satoru held, “where’s Gojo?” You were prepared for the question.

“Do you like the fest?” You father was prepared for the dodge—he hummed, “you both did good together, as I supposed,” you hummed.

“He won’t be coming?”

“He’s busy,” you lied through your teeth, “some kids snuck in alcohol, he’s dealing with it,” you were sure you caught your father’s smirk—“that would be highly…inappropriate,”

You bit the inside of your cheek, “of course, we’ll see to it that they’re punished well,”

Your father hummed again, “having a good time?”

“Wonderful,” your father grinned, “well, you can go then but…maybe not today but I do hope meet your assistant soon after, kind of tired of seeing him sneak in through the windows,”

“Dad?!”

“What? You’re grown up and I’ve seen the potential and I kind of think opposites do attract, and you proved me right so,”

Idiots, all around you.

All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

[jgracie]

WHO’S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME?

masterlist | rules

♡ dedicated to giselle @pinkdiorluvr <3 our leo/ttpd/aphrodite parallels resulted in this epic crossover... love u sm !

in which leo was tame and gentle ‘til the circus life made him mean (alternatively, the one where you teach a son of aphrodite how to love again)

pairing son of aphrodite!leo valdez x roman!reader

warnings self-loathing (happy ending tho dw), ooc / dark!leo? idk tbh but this is a deep dive into his mind lowk 😭 also this is kinda long sorry in advance LMAO

on the radio . . . who’s afraid of little old me? (taylor swift), the only exception (paramore)

an aphrodite cabin leo my beloved… read the comments under this for a bit of context :) also in this they know the ghost of the battery is venus cz it fits w the story ok

If you looked up the word ‘tragedy’ in the dictionary, Leo was convinced you’d find his whole life there. It’d take up half the book, listing every event that’s ever happened in his life from the moment his mother died in that fire, her body so charred there was nothing to bury, until present time

It would talk about how after that, social services arrived, and how his aunt had refused to take him in, calling him a diablo and shouting at the social workers to take him themselves. It would talk about how none of his other relatives wanted him. It would talk about all the foster homes he’d run from, both the okay and the ugly (because they were never good. They didn’t want him either) opting to sleep under the Houston bridge for months instead. It would talk about how Leo was completely and utterly unloveable

Years of his life being this endless cycle of misery resulted in Leo toughening up. He was no longer the sweet boy who’d sit on his mother’s lap as she worked with pieces of metal, who’d run to get her a hammer or a screwdriver before she even asked for it, his heart so full of love for her he was close to exploding. No, this was a new Leo. This Leo learnt to deal with the bullies and the streets and everything else life decided to throw at him, his skin calloused and his heart cold. Sure, he was still elvish and scrawny, but he wasn’t afraid. That alone was enough

Eventually, he befriended Piper. She was nice. For once, he was around someone who didn’t seem to mind his company. But no matter how much Piper liked him, she still liked Jason more. Leo wasn’t an idiot, he knew from the moment Piper laid eyes on the perfect blond that this was her dream guy. And he was happy for her, she was his friend after all! However, he couldn’t help but resent her feelings towards him. He found himself left out again - unloveable Leonidas Valdez, that’s who he’d always be, now that his mom was gone

Then, he discovered a whole new world of Gods and monsters and for a moment in time, Leo thought everything might finally begin to click. He never fit in with the other kids in his foster homes because he wasn’t like them, he was a demigod, of course he couldn’t fit in. For the first time since his mother’s passing, Leo became an optimist. Maybe things would turn around? He’d get to meet his second parent and they’d explain it all, possibly even reward him for his perseverance? Leo toyed around with the idea, replaying the fantasy in his head. In the end, to him, just getting a glimpse of them would be enough

He got claimed as soon as he arrived. Usually, that would be considered incredibly lucky, and Leo really tried thinking of it in that way. Annabeth had told him some campers wait years for that symbol to float over their heads, to finally be able to move out of the crowded Hermes cabin and have people they can genuinely call siblings, a place they can genuinely call home

Leo would’ve been happy if his Godly parent wasn’t her. Aphrodite. What a sick joke. How could the Goddess of love be his mother? No one loved Leo, even Piper and Jason saw him as a nuisance at times. They tried to disguise it, but Leo knew. Years of being bullied had given him excellent training in reading the emotions of others. He knew that whenever the three of them were together, they wished they could be alone. He’d almost refused to sleep in cabin 10, but his new siblings grabbed him by the arms and dragged him over, excited to meet a fellow child of their mother’s

Luckily, it didn’t take Leo very long to get a quest. He, along with Piper and Jason, left Camp Half-Blood to go find and save Hera from the cage she was trapped in. Although the quest was hard and there were many times he’d come close to death, Leo was happier away from the cabin that reminded him of everything he should be and was not. The trio came back to camp just in time and immediately started planning their journey to Jason’s home, Camp Jupiter

The days Leo was building the Argo II were some of his happiest. He had an excuse to not sleep in his cabin (the Hephaestus cabin had kindly offered him bunker 9) and he was around the one thing he truly did love - machinery. The smell of oil and clang of metal reminded him of his mother, the one person who’d truly ever loved him. Sure, Leo did occasionally find himself yearning for human interaction, but every time he felt that ache in his chest, his fingertips longing to touch another, he’d push it down and continue his work. Just because he was a son of Aphrodite, doesn’t mean he deserved love. If he did deserve love, surely, he would’ve gotten it a long time ago

Soon enough, the ship was finished and Leo, Jason, Piper and Annabeth set sail for Camp Jupiter. On the boat, he felt less pressure to fit into the constraints of the stereotypical role of a child of Aphrodite, consequently becoming more like one. Away from land, he could shed the Leo Valdez who was tough and hard as stone, becoming as fluid as the sea instead. He wasn’t anywhere near as social as the others, but this time, he didn’t lock himself up in his room. He taught Annabeth about the mechanisms of the ship and teased Piper and Jason whenever he caught them kissing

From above, Aphrodite watched and hoped the Fates were feeling kindly towards her baby boy. It broke her heart watching him lose faith in love, but she couldn’t do anything about it - not with Zeus keeping a close eye on her

“Okay, I’ll show you the ship. Come with me,” Leo told Octavian - Camp Jupiter’s joke of an Oracle. The boy annoyed him, reminding Leo too much of some of the manipulative bullies he had to learn to fight back, but he knew giving him a tour of the Argo II was essential for gaining the Romans’ trust. Surprisingly, it was going well. Octavian was quiet as he examined it all, only making a few snide remarks about the ‘obviously Greek methods’ Leo had used

Then it happened. Leo felt his mind go blank and his limbs move against his will, heading for the ballistae. He tried to stop himself, but he couldn’t. He fired on Camp Jupiter

Other than Jason, who had gotten hit by a brick and was currently passed out, everyone was fine. What wasn’t fine was the fact that the Romans were no longer on their side. The others gave him accusatory glances, even though he’d insisted didn’t mean to hurt anyone. Only Piper seemed to be on his side, but even she was a little hesitant, a little confused

You were the anomaly. Leo didn’t notice you - quiet and observant, wanting to see how this would play out - until you spoke up to defend him. You, a Roman who’d just had the only home she’s ever known destroyed, who’d just been labelled an outcast by all her friends and family thanks to him, had defended Leo

“Guys, I don’t think he meant any harm,” you said, immediately silencing the other six members of the Great Prophecy. Leo’s mouth was agape, unable to say anything as you continued, “why would he fire on Camp Jupiter on purpose?” You asked, “isn’t he a part of this eight, one of us?” Then, turning to Annabeth, you said, “isn’t he your friend? Why aren’t you defending him?” She blushed and looked down at her feet, unsure of what to say

You smiled, happy that another problem had been solved, “let’s not ruin this quest before it even starts, okay? We can’t save the world from Gaia if we don’t act as a team.”

For the first time since his mother’s death, Leo felt loved. However, he knew all too well how good things never last

Leo distanced himself from you, as well as everyone else on the ship. After that day, he’d decided to coop himself up in his room and work on upgrading the ship instead, only coming out when absolutely necessary. Meanwhile, you eagerly got to know everyone else who was part of the prophecy, intrigued about the differences between Greek and Roman demigods. The one person who you desperately wanted to know, though, was Leo

No matter how hard you tried, he always seemed to escape your clutches. You’d been worried for him ever since that first day on the ship, and after finding out he built it, you were dying to know more

“Venus only appeared when Reyna was alone, so I don’t think any men can come along,” Jason said. Yet again, you were splitting up for another quest. This time, it was seeking the ghost of the Battery, who you’d deduced was Venus, the goddess of love. Suddenly, you had an idea

“Shouldn’t Leo come along? He’s her son, isn’t he? She’d show up for him,” you said, giving the boy a kind glance, which he averted. He really didn’t want to meet his mom. She didn’t care for him, so neither did he for her. If she cared, she wouldn’t have left him to fend for himself all those years. She was no better than his Aunt Rosa

Unfortunately, everyone on the ship agreed with you. Venus would probably be more helpful if her son was there. It was settled, you and Leo would go find the ghost of the Battery

The walk was awkward. This was the first time the two of you had been together since the first day on the ship. You made small talk, asking him about the ship and Camp Half-Blood. He thanked you for that day, and when you’d given him a toothy grin, your eyes sparkling, Leo felt as if Cupid had shot an arrow right through his heart. He couldn’t breathe. He’d never been more overwhelmed with love

“Lady Venus?” You said, your voice tentative as you looked around, suddenly doubting your plan. Immediately, she appeared in front of you. She was beautiful, with curly brown locks and fiery brown eyes. Her smile was kind, making you feel a warmth spread throughout your body. Then she noticed Leo. Instantly, her fiery eyes became sad, and… were those tears?

She floated past you and towards Leo, cupping his face in her hands. He flinched, about to pull away before remembering she’s a Goddess and could easily smite him if she were in a bad mood. His eyebrows remained furrowed, the crease in his forehead only deepening when she said, “my boy, my Leo. You’ve grown so beautifully.”

You could tell Leo’s relationship with his mother was strained, despite never meeting her. He scoffed, gaining the courage to remove her soft hands from his rigid face

“I am not your Leo. I am Esperanza Valdez’s Leo. She’s dead, in case you can’t recall. She died and you did nothing to stop it, nothing to ease the pain. I will never be your Leo. I’m only here for the sake of the quest, so please just tell us what we need to do and we’ll be on our way,” with every word, you could tell Venus’ heart shattered into several tiny pieces. Never in a million years did you think you’d see a Goddess look so heartbroken

She tried to reach out for him again, but this time, Leo didn’t let her, inching closer to you instead. Sighing, Venus opted to use her words, “look, I’m really sorry. You have no idea how bad I feel. I wanted to help you, really, but Zeus–”

“It’s always Zeus with you Gods, isn’t it? No, you don’t get to tell me you feel bad. You wouldn’t have survived an hour in my childhood. Do you know how horrible it felt, being wanted by no one? Do you have any idea how much it hurt finding out your own mother, the Goddess of love, didn’t do a single thing to help, choosing to leave you feeling unlovable instead? If you really loved me, you wouldn’t have given up just because of Zeus.”

Venus was quiet after that. You looked up at the sky, afraid Jupiter would strike you with his lightning bolt at this very moment, but he didn’t. With tears in her eyes, she said what was necessary and as soon as she was done, Leo got up and began walking away. You, however, stayed. You couldn’t help but feel a little bad for the Goddess, even though Leo was in the right

“He likes you,” she said, breaking the silence, “but he thinks he’s incapable of love, and it’s all my fault, I know, but I beg of you, please save my son before it's too late.” Her hand was tightly gripping yours, and you gave her a sad smile before going to catch up with Leo

You found him crying behind a bush. He had his face in his hands and sat with his knees touching his chest as horrible, gut-wrenching sobs left his open lips, desperate for some air. Calmly, you sat next to Leo. You didn’t do anything - no stupid words, no trying to fix his issues, you knew that wasn’t what he needed. Leo just needed some love. So you wrapped an arm around him and let him let it out on your shoulder

With the grass leaving indents on your skin and the light breeze cooling your bodies, Leo opened up. He didn’t say everything, but you got the gist of it all. You also got that seeing Venus face-to-face and crying afterwards had taken a load off of his back. With every word he said, Leo’s face seemed to brighten, his curls gaining shape and his eyes becoming a warmer shade of mahogany. The realisation hit you like a truck: he looked just like his mother

As the days passed, you paired with Leo for quests more often. He was more comfortable around you than any of the other crew members, which didn’t go unnoticed by them. They were glad Leo had found someone he could let loose with. Your journey across the Mediterranean continued and your friendship blossomed and bloomed, every late night conversation proving to Leo that maybe love was something he could achieve in this lifetime after all

Despite this, he kept his distance. A part of him was scared you stayed out of pity. As a son of Aphrodite, he knew that wasn’t true - he could read people like a book, after all. But he would never forget how his life is an endless loop. Just as he’d think he was finally getting a break, the universe would greet him with the worst event he’s ever experienced. Soon enough, something awful would happen. Something that’d push you away. You should be afraid of him, an unstable boy with extreme detachment issues and a history of bad relationships. What was there to love?

Everything. To you, there was everything to love about Leo. From the way he always had a piece of scrap metal to fiddle with in case he got nervous, to the way his nose would scrunch up when he’d laugh. Leo Valdez had ripped your heart out of your body and decided to keep it, and you were okay with that

Your confession had happened after Percy and Annabeth fell into Tartarus. Everyone was absolutely gutted, of course, but no one more than Leo. He blamed himself for their descent into the deep pits of hell, and you began to see him slowly go back to the Leo he once was, the Leo he was used to being. The difference was that this time, you were there

You forced him to give you and the others some of the watch shifts he’d assigned to himself. You made sure he ate and drank water and took care of himself. You were there to pick the pieces back up again

One night, it was just you and him

“Why do you do this? Am I not a burden to you?” Leo had asked, just as you were about to leave his room. After finding him half asleep at the wheel, you dragged him to bed, tucking him in yourself and making him swear not to leave until the morning

You turned, your eyes holding a mix of fondness and hurt. Not for yourself, but for the boy who has never looked into the mirror and seen a person worthy of loving. Your voice as clear as the sky above, you said, “because I love you. You could never be a burden to me, because I want to do this.”

“Why? Why do you love me?”

Making your way over to his bed, you sat on the edge, cupping his face, just like his mother did during your first adventure together. This time, he didn’t flinch. In fact, he seemed to melt under your touch. You felt anguish in your heart at this - no matter how much Leo insisted he should be alone, he still craved another

“Because you’re you. You’re sweet and you’re loyal and most of all, you’re so deserving of love. That’s more than enough reason for me.”

As Artemis rode her moon chariot across the starry sky, you shared a tender kiss. You saw Leo for everything he was - a black dog, a broken boy, the definition of the word ‘tragedy’, and chose to love him anyway

You weren’t afraid

[tateshifts]

SLYTHERIN BOYS + pansy ⋆｡˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ dr headcanons

this is going to be about my dr and how i know the boys and a little about their background.

✮ . . . quidditch; all the boys play quidditch except enzo (he’s protecting his face from flying balls).

mattheo is a beater, player 5. theo is the captain, he’s new from this year, he’s a chaser and he’s player 10. blaise is a chaser and he’s player 2. draco is a seeker and he’s player 15.

dracos been playing since second year, but blaise and theo have been playing since third whilst mattheo joined in 4th year. the other players are, adrian pucey (keeper), graham montage (chaser) and miles bletchley (beater).

✮ . . . were all 18 turning 19 this year. my dr is still hogwarts as a school, its just with all the school years aged up? i hope that makes sense lol

mattheo was born on january 7th 2005 (capricorn) theo was born on october 28th 2004 (scorpio) blaise was born on november 28th 2004 (sagittarius) enzo was born on march 2nd 2005 (pisces) draco was born on june 5th 2005 (gemini) pansy was born on july 7th 2005 (cancer)

✮ . . . draco is 6” blaise is 6”2 mattheo is 6”5 theo is 6”4 enzo is 6”2

im not sure why they’re all so tall??? i didn’t script this so it’s probably my subconscious wanting a height difference or something. but their parents aren’t tall either from what i’ve heard so it’s a mystery ? puberty did them good.

✮ . . . these guys are so built, they take their healths so seriously when it comes to food. they train so much for quidditch, enzo trains with them sometimes too just to keep his health up. their arms, their thighs, their abs. so toned and defined. literally hench

✮ . . . the only people who can see thestrals are theo and mattheo, this is because they both witnessed the death of theo’s mother. even though theo says he’s still processing the death of his mum, he can still see these thestrals. which can only been seen only after you have processed the death you have witnessed.

my dr background with the boys + pansy

✮ . . . we’ve all known eachother since forever as we all grew up together. our parents were all ‘friends’? they weren’t friends just accomplices i guess you could say. they are business partners and they invest in eachothers work. some of our parents know eachother from school or distant family.

✮ . . . we were all kind of passed around eachothers houses LMAO there was always some kind of shit going on so we had to spend a few nights in eachothers houses, i say few but it was A LOT of nights.

✮ . . . we’ve been together 24/7 since and we almost never spend time apart. which can be overwhelming so we of course have boundaries.

thanks for reading ❦｡･:*:･ﾟ. follows, likes & reblogs are appreciated x

[ipegchangbin]

— smudgeproof

sub!model!felix x dom!makeup artist!reader

There’s a new lipstick that claims to be make-out-proof. You, with your makeup expertise, naturally decide to test it on your model boyfriend, Felix: except he’s the one that gets to wear it. 

🏷 gender neutral afab reader (they/them pronouns, no specifics), smut, fluff, some humor, established relationship, porn with barely any plot. 

🏷 petnames “mommy” and “baby girl,” unprotected sex, feminization kink, slight oral and hand fixation, marking, butt plug (felix using), thigh riding, fingering (felix receiving), overstimulation, male squirting, lots of teasing, voyeurism mention, no specifics about y/n’s physique. 

w/c: 8.8k

a/n: happy (hopefully not late) valentine’s day! to celebrate, i finally present to you the long overdue felix-gets-fucked fic! based on my thought piece, this concept has been on my mind ever since. i kept rewriting this fic but i drew the header art so fast LMAO icb i finished it!! otherwise, enjoy!

18+ only. minors do not interact.

On slow days, you would often find yourself bored in the makeup store. Your boyfriend, Lee Felix, would probably be just as bored, sitting in the chair of his set. Your notifications were as empty as the barren shop.

After two aimless scrolls down your Instagram feed, you realized that you hadn’t posted anything recently and hadn’t texted Felix that day.

The afternoon sun brought in waves of humid air throughout the city, setting everyone back from a trip around the shops. You peered over at the conversation with your boyfriend as you thought about ways to kill time.

It wasn’t uncommon to go for a while without contacting each other. It had been years since you two became official, after all, and comfortable silence had become a given that you both simply indulged in. That didn’t take your mind off of the boredom, though, and your fingers itched to do something. They found Felix’s contact on your phone, bedazzled with an embarrassing nickname and profile picture. 

It stung to think that if you weren’t looking at his endearing profile, you would instead settle for some sort of creeping guilt of not posting anything on your social media page after a while. Either way, you shot him a message.

you: lix, wya? you: im bored as hell

Considering Felix’s work as a professional model, he would probably reply in less than ten minutes. You thought to turn your phone off and play with the freshly-cleaned makeup brushes on the makeup store’s vanity counter while waiting.

But this is Lee Felix, the sunshine of your days, and you didn’t have to wait any longer than two seconds.

lixie: Am at the shoot I told u about lixie: Bored too tbh LOL

Even if he typed in a silly way, you couldn’t help but love him.

He’d always been your go-to person to unwind and be yourself around. Starting as best friends gave you both a jumpstart to be comfortable around the other. People would say it worked a little too well especially since you two had become the most seriously unserious couple in the creative industry.

That fact made him understand you more than anyone else: you were both creatives. Your heart belonged to the artistic liberties of makeup and beauty, while his heart belonged to the ethereal realm of modeling and fashion. Your two hearts found each other, which was almost perfect for the adjacent businesses. He collaborated with you on makeup challenges. You came to his sets as his “preferred makeup artist.” He understood you whenever you ranted about stupid trends and declining engagement in your channels.

With that, could tell him about your uneventful day and equally uneventful social media pages, but you refrained from complaining more than dropping a passing mention.

you: idrk what to do there are no customers you: and i havent posted anything new you: but its not like theres much to do lixie: Well you’re the genius one here! lixie: Got art block or something?

The prompt response caught you off guard. Almost as if you have forgotten, this was Felix, and he always sensed whenever something was wrong.

As if he had some sort of radar or emotion detector, he always just knew how you were. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he had always been in the proximity of your face, observing your concentration as you put eyeliner on him before shooting. Maybe that connection stuck with him after years of being together, and it had remained strong to the point that he could feel it from miles away, staring emptily into the face of some other random MUA. 

Alas, you found yourself overthinking again. You would rather overthink about your relationship than your semi-abandoned creative efforts, though.

you: well i guess you can call it that. im just conscious since i havent really posted you: idk what to do next. ive done everything lixie: How about, “Boyfriend does my makeup drunk edition”? :D you: boring ! lixie: “Makeup tut but bf does my voiceover”? :D you: just because it got views doesnt mean its worth doing a fifth time >:(( lixie: I’m kidding LOL 

The scowl on your face reflected on the mirror sitting in front of you. You knew that if only Felix saw it right now, he would have lost his mind trying to turn it upside down.

You were right though. You two did everything.

My boyfriend does my makeup? Done, and he did an okay job at it. “The boy beat” makeup tutorial featuring Felix? Damn right he did. Boyfriend does my voiceover? It was so good that you guys did it four times and everyone fell in love with the deep timbre of his voice contrasted with his surprising amount of knowledge. Even if it was easy to collaborate with him, it was hard to create something new and unique. On the contrary, your audience fell in love with you two. It’s nice to watch a model and a stylist practice their art together.

Lost for ideas, you decided just to tease him instead.

lixie: So? No ideas in that pretty head? you: i got one thing in mind lixie: And what might that be? you: having you here you: in my arms you: to kiss up and call pretty :>

It was a thing that you usually did since you loved how he always reacted so pricelessly. He didn’t disappoint with his response, the notifications popping up not even half a minute after your last message.

lixie: HNDNSABNNDJS lixie: Don’t tease me unprompted!! lixie: ;__;

You’re so grateful that he’s always up to play with you.

You thought deeply — too deeply for a situation like this — and scanned the store shelves and storage room for ideas.

You wondered what he would be up to right now.

Felix was stunned.

Done-up in the most expensive face and hairstyle he’s rocked to date, adorned with an unbuttoned suit jacket that one could only dream to wear, he was supposed to look like the stunner. His pecs were only barely hidden and the midsection of his upper body was almost entirely exposed.

Instead, he was the speechless one. He wasn’t shocked by the cold air seeping through his revealing outfit, but his hair raised at your messages.

Your teasing usually should not affect him this much, but today, it was something different. The whole day, all he could think about was you. His mind went to your first meeting. Earlier, he got deja vu as one of the stylists applied lipstick on him. It felt familiar, the feeling of a senior stylist’s hand resting on his face as a brush glided along the perimeter of his mouth. All it lacked was the stunning view of your face in particular. It reminded him of the first time you ever laid eyes on him, and it was to check on his eyeshadow. You stared at each other for too long, exchanged numbers after the shoot, and the rest was history.

He was pissed, to say the least, that you weren’t the assigned stylist for the shoot this time. Nothing could ever compare to the focused look you gave him as you fixed the corners of his mouth with the smooth swipe of your pinky finger.

He craved that touch again.

“Yo,” a dragged-out sigh whisked through the air. “You’ll catch a fly in your mouth if you keep that jaw open.”

Felix looked up from his phone to find Hyunjin, his best friend and one of the junior photographers on set, eyeing his reflection in the mirror. He had his bleached blond hair half-up, tied messily to complete his so-called “intern look.” Most of the senior directors and photographers on set confused him for a model.

“Am I interrupting some kinda internal monologue sesh?” Hyunjin smiled, leaning behind Felix’s chair, raising a brow at him through the reflection. 

“No, I just—”

“He’s thinking about Y/N again.” Jeongin, their other best friend, popped from behind the vanity, carrying Hyunjin’s abandoned camera. 

The two were interns at the studio. Both were very bored art students looking for a job to pass the time by. Jeongin was there to work as a personal assistant and was mistaken for a stylist considering his fashion sense. His behavior around set proved otherwise, though, since he spent the entire day prodding at everyone’s business.

Felix was no exception as a victim.

“Imagine flirting online,” Hyunjin chuckled while reaching for the camera. Jeongin handed it out to him, only to swing his arm back, teasing the older.

Jeongin dismissed the frown on Hyunjin’s face and fiddled with the camera. “Yeah, cut your significant other some slack, they must be busy at the store or something,” he added.

“Nah, they aren’t.”

Hyunjin snagged the camera back. “Editing a Youtube video?”

“That’s exactly why they messaged me. They asked for ideas for a new video.” Felix sat back and redirected his eyes back to the conversation on his phone. The other two slowly turned their heads to each other.

“Wow! Did you hear that, Innie? They messaged him!” Hyunjin yelped.

“Lix didn’t message first? Unheard of!” Jeongin gasped.

“Cut it out, overdramatic cunts.” The accent made the last word roll off Felix’s tongue in a heavy and aggressive accent. “I want to help them this once. Shoo. Leave me be.”

“Oh, why are you getting all worked up, man?” The younger placed his hands on Felix’s shoulders and wiggled them.

Actually — why was he getting all worked up? Everything seemed off: he wasn’t the type to get annoyed easily like that.

He would have defended himself, but he thought it over. Not only had he been unusually sentimental while getting ready, but even as the day started, he was already rolling off to a rough start. He barely got out of bed, reaching out to you from the side and asking for longer morning cuddles specifically from you. He had been so clingy all day that the silence and afternoon heat killed him from looking forward to anything else but you.

A discussion brewed between the menaces as Felix thought about it. “Innie, you know, he couldn’t even hit the poses right. The director felt bad because our bro didn’t seem into it.”

Felix’s cheeks flushed upon hearing that. “No way, Hyune,” the other replied.

Oh god, Felix thought.

He swatted embarrassing thoughts away from his head to not get teased any further by his own friends. His thoughts — and something else — were hindering him from doing anything physically. The poor boy couldn’t even shift in his seat from embarrassment. It’s not that he didn’t want to physically fidget, he just couldn’t. His entire body froze, but he also just could not move by any means. It would be uncomfortable for him, and it wasn’t just because the clothes restricted him.

Something underneath his clothes would shift too and pierce his body with shockwaves. Before that could, though, his phone vibrated before he did.

you: babe! you: had a breakthrough so big i said eureka out loud in the store [you sent a photo]

Felix immediately opened the notifications and observed the sent messages. He opened the photo even before it loaded. When it did, he nearly melted in his seat.

You supposedly sent him a picture of a product that you found. By the looks of it, you probably thought of doing a product review of it, but that wasn’t the first impression he got from the picture. The first thing he saw was your face, winking with a toothy grin, your beautiful hand holding the product up next to your cheek.

God, you were all sorts of stunning to him.

lixie: OMHJYGOD YOUre so pretty you: dont look at me, silly! you: look at this lipstick. its so funny

For a moment, he didn’t listen. His eyes were still fixated on everything from your expression, to your features, to the nails that you just got done holding up the product. As if he had gone stupid, he had to blink and shake his head before formulating a reply that made sense.

lixie: LMFAOOOO THE NAME you: its not the name baby lixie: WHAT SHADE COLOR IS THAT LMAOOO  you: the shade looks fine, look at the label! lixie: What’s it say you: the label claims its make-out proof lixie: ??!!! LOL

Of course, he didn’t make any sort of sense whatsoever. His two friends watched him frantically type away, barely being able to process anything from the mere sight of you.

“Bro’s deluded,” Jeongin whispered.

“Bro’s fucking horny,” Hyunjin commented, squinting at his friend.

you: you sound so funny baby you: anyway i was thinking i should review it you: but can you join me? i wanna try something

It felt like something broke inside of him. A shot of excitement ran through his system, hitting down until his core — oh shit that hurt.

He tried to twist his lower half again, fidgeting in his seat, but it grew harder for him to do so. With tears in his eyes, he jolted up, attempting to focus on the conversation.

lixie: Sure, what do you want me to do? lixie: Won’t you just do an application and wear test thing? you: mmm i guess u can say that you: but im making it a lil different lixie: How so?

The intrigue bit his tongue and Felix attempted to swallow it. The staff around him were wrapping up the shoot, pushing equipment back in their places, and some started to leave as soon as the director announced the last “cut.” He, however, was glued to the vanity chair, shaking in anticipation.

you: im gonna put it on you baby <3

Felix’s eyes widened.

It didn’t matter how many times you placed makeup on him, nor did it matter how many times he joined you in your antics. There were too many things going on in his head that toyed with his thought process and everything that came with it. He didn’t exactly know why, but a knot formed in his stomach. He grew nervous and just knew that you were up to something sinister.

lixie: But how are we gonna do the wear test? I already got my face done and half the day has passed, I’m even done w my part of the shoot you: you dont get it ??? lixie: I don’t get it!! you: ill put it on you when you get here. and were not just testing how long it wears regularly, were testing what the label says you: ill be there in 10mins love you baby

He sat back, looked up from his phone, and his gaze zeroed in on his reflection, attempting to focus on the thought. How would you conduct a different kind of wear test? In terms of makeup, a wear test would simply be to spend a full day with the product on and to see if it still holds its place at the end of it. It had already been well past afternoon by that time and it wasn’t like there were many other things to do that could budge the lipstick aside from dinner. He always trusted your genius, but he knew that there was more to this.

Felix blinked, once, twice, and then stared.

Were you…going to test if it was really make-out proof?

The world around him seemed to dim — it did, since the studio lights were turning off and the senior stylists urged Jeongin to wake the model up from his short-circuiting brain to change out of the clothes.

That is if Felix could still respond before the horniness consumed him.

lixie: Wait lixie: Don’t tell me lixie: DON’T TELL ME lixie: You’ll test it by putting it on me lixie: AND THEN MAKE OUT WITH ME?????? [Read 2:50 PM] lixie: Y/N!!! Answer me!!! [Delivered, unread 2:51 PM]

The cogs in his head accelerated before banging to a full stop, clinks and clanks ringing through his ears at his very slow realization.

“Congrats, smartypants, you figured it out.” Hyunjin scoffed from behind him.

“Dude—wait, hey! Have you been watching me the whole time?!”

“You should be more secretive,” Jeongin giggled. “Get those privacy screen protectors or something. Now we know what poor Y/N has to deal with every day.”

“And stop getting your thoughts tangled in horny next time you text,” Hyunjin elbowed the poor model boy, fiddling with his camera as if nothing happened. “Don’t worry. Your secrets and online PDA are safe with us.” 

Felix’s face was washed without color. His jaw hung open both at his friends’ antics and your devilish plans.

“I’m looking forward to that review,” Jeongin added before walking away, teasingly pushing Felix’s shoulder on the way out. “Not that I’ll use it or anything.”

The two friends left the set side-eyeing and giggling at Felix.

—

It wasn’t long before you pulled up to the studio to pick your boyfriend up.

“Hi, darling.” Felix’s greeting and nervous smile lit up the quiet air and darkness of your car. He got in the passenger seat and immediately leaned in to kiss your cheek.

He was trembling. 

You had to laugh. “Hey, babe. What’s got you shaken up?”

“Long day.”

“That’s it?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Long because of you,” he said, scrunching his nose. “Kept teasing me.”

“Aw, don’t sulk, silly.” You cooed at him, “Save the pout for later, baby. We’re going home.”

Maybe it was the combination of inhaling your expensive signature scent and hearing the sound of your voice again that made him tingle all over. Maybe it had to do with the curling corners of your mouth that gave Felix all the information he needed in the world. Maybe it was the fact that you held the back of his seat as the car reversed, and the action looked undeniably sexy. 

Felix lifted a leg to cross over the other, but it only ever made him look more uncomfortable throughout the entire car ride home. Though concerned, you didn’t point it out, and instead continued to drive.

His chest was heaving and he internally scolded himself for acting like a bitch in heat.

The both of you arrived home sooner than expected.

The tunes that you played earlier in the car ride home stuck in Felix’s head. He wondered if the song choice of a sultry voice singing about “wants and needs” was deliberate. It was your playlist, and if you intended to include subliminal messaging, then it worked like a charm on him.

He had been worked out to the point he couldn’t face you. The moment he laid eyes on you again in your apartment’s living room, he shied away almost immediately.

You caught his averting gaze, though, and disallowed him from living it down. “Is there something on my face, baby?”

Baby. He could spend a lifetime just listening to you calling him that name. The way it sounded so natural coming from you made him melt. 

He also could not stop staring at your lips. You always wore a certain gloss no matter the occasion. Even if it was your signature, Felix couldn’t help but stare, and it didn’t make his situation any better. In fact, it got worse, and it felt like the straining in his pants could explode.

“Mm, ‘s nothing, Y/N.”

“You sure?” You prodded. “Your friends kept waving at me and they looked back at you earlier.”

“Ah, please don’t mind them.” He scoffed. “They were being cheeky cunts.”

“That’s a funny way to put it.”

“Anyway, how are we gonna do th-the…uh, the thing…?” Felix stammered, playing with his fingers instead of looking you in the eye.

“Oh, glad you mentioned it!” You hurriedly grabbed the three tiny boxes in your bag. “I got a bit excited over it. Look at this!”

There was nothing too remarkable about the boxes. They looked like basic products, but the huge bolded font on the product labels caught his eye. “It’s more of a stain or something. The label says it can survive five consecutive make-out sessions before a singular budge.”

“It’s…interesting, yeah.” Felix blinked. You chuckled, nodding at his reasonable reaction. “So…y-you’ll put that on me.”

“Yep.”

“And then we kiss.”

“Make-out,” you corrected. Your voice was clear and slightly stern, but the smile that formed on your face sent him in shivers.

The familiarity in your features contrasted with whatever stunts you were going to pull on him sent his head into a haze.

“Anything wrong with it?”

“No,” he shook his head.

“Lix, baby, just be clear with me.” You inched closer to him, bringing your hands to his plump freckle-spotted cheeks. “You don’t mind that I’ll record this and post it?”

“Of course, I don’t mind. I just…” Felix sighed.

“…Just curious, what are you planning to show in the video?”

“I’m gonna show the application, I’ll start by putting it on you.”

The heat rushed to Felix’s face as numerous thoughts clouded his mind as he visualized everything in his mind.

“We’re gonna kiss for a brief moment in the video, probably make out and do…whatever,” you winked shyly. “It’s only gonna be brief. Gotta keep it within community guidelines.”

One of your hands made its way down to his hip. You pulled him closer. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat from gulping back an otherwise embarrassing sound.

You had to wonder if he was hiding anything causing him discomfort there.

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

Felix bit his lip. “A hundred percent sure.”

“If you don’t want—”

“I want…it,” he whispered under his breath. “I want you.”

He flashed a weak smile. He was incredibly excited, but he was losing composure and he didn’t exactly know why.

He was about to melt in your hands but you held him up and adjusted your set-up for the video with an equally beautiful smile.

—

Three, two, one, action.

The camera rolled and you felt the familiar rush of adrenaline surge through you. Impressively, you thought you would have lost your spark at content creation, but posing in front of the ring light felt refreshing.

“It’s been a long time coming y’all,” you waved, “but I’m back! And guess who I’m with!”

Felix stared at the camera for a moment, his eyes flicking back to you for a split second. It was his cue to wave as well.

“Ah, hi, everyone!”

“Still handsome and meek as always,” you teased. “He still has a bit of makeup on since he came from a shoot.”

Your hand ran down the side of his neck. You felt the goosebumps rise from his skin.

“Anyway, today I’ll be starting a series of videos covering weird products and their weird claims. We’re starting strong with this funky new liquid lipstick from…B.Me Cosmetics.”

Taking the tube out of its package, you examined it and showed it to the phone camera. You swatched a shade on the back of your hand. Differing from a bullet lip, it had a liquid formula that boasted a unique, pseudo-gloss satin finish. 

“It claims to be smudge-proof, make-out-proof, everything-proof. Can last five rounds of kissin’ and smoochin’ I assume.” You said many things that Felix didn’t even dare to process.

Felix simply watched your hands delicately hold the product. His gaze was fixated on your nails, fingers, and everything about you that wasn’t the lipstick.

“But oh no no, I’m not testing it on myself. Well, kinda, but Lixie over here is gonna be my test subject.” You swung an arm over Felix, dragging him down to the height of the phone, showing everyone his nervous yet precious face. He eyed up at you with what seemed to be hearts in his pupils.

“Let’s first see how this goes on, hmm?”

You walked a bit away to grab two chairs: one was velvety and comfortable, while the other was taller and had regular cushions. The first was the same chair your clients usually sat on, and the second was your working chair. You urged him to sit down, patting the seat as a signal.

The moment he sat down, Felix started trembling. His knees looked like they were about to give in and his thighs took a moment to settle onto the velvet.

“Everything alright?” You whispered.

He wordlessly nodded back at you. Unknown to you, though, he bit back a noise. He didn’t mind the sharp pulsing pain when he finally got the courage to look up fully, of course with the guidance of your thumb and index finger propping up his chin.

It felt like handling a little kitten in your hands.

“Which shade, which shade…” You took the other bottles out of the bold box packaging and waved them out in front of Felix’s lips. It either would have been a rosy nude color, a deep red, or a bright cherry pinkish-red.

You tapped the tube of the last color against your boyfriend’s bottom lip, watching his cheeks pout slightly at the action. You quietly settled on the cherry color, to Felix’s apparent delight.

“Would you look at that?” You cupped his face with one hand, holding the lipstick on your free one. You faced him towards the camera, relishing in the sight of his cheeks puffing up in your palm. “Call me biased or whatever, but his lips are some of the prettiest I’d ever seen.”

Before he could indulge in the praise though, you urged him to open his mouth. He didn’t prepare for any of this and not your next course of action.

You slotted the bottle in between Felix’s teeth and kept it in place even after unscrewing the applicator off. He bit slightly and carefully to keep the bottle in place without damaging it. If he were a nervous wreck then, he became overly anxious now. You, however, in full focus, took the applicator of the liquid lipstick and slid it along his top lip. The cold sensation of the new foreign product on his mouth made him squirm slightly, though you held him firmly in place with your hand.

“So fitting that his lips are shaped like a heart. He’s so kissable.” You smooched the air while cleaning up the perimeter of his lips, teasing him.

Wished I kissed you right now, huh? Felix could hear that in your voice and he let it echo in his pretty little head. Alas, he couldn’t retaliate nor speak back at all. He couldn’t even dip his head in embarrassment. Your eyes were trained on the brush you flicked, almost dismissive of your own flirting and it mismatched the smirk that adorned your mouth after teasing.

It was the exact kind of look he’s seen many times before. The exact look he fell in love with when you first met.

It’s the look he would get off to almost every night.

You finished off applying the lipstick and it was impressively smooth. You took the bottle from his teeth and sighed. The color made his mouth look irresistibly edible. It would take you three marathons and a trip to the moon to admit that you were starting to feel just as affected as Felix by the sight of his pouty mouth.

“Rub those pretty lips for me, baby.”

Only you could say those words to him the way that you do. Felix felt multiple urges rummaging through his system at once. He could almost cry from wanting to say something, to call out your name, to moan it, to whine and whimper, and melt in your arms as if nobody were watching. 

The eyes of the world were on him, though, and all he could do was comply. He rubbed his lips together and pouted them out with a smack.

“Good job, baby.” You rubbed his chin with your thumb. He felt fire surging within his heart.

He knew that you knew what you were doing. It was only you, after all, who knew how to push his buttons in the right places. Unlike Hyunjin nor Jeongin, it took you no effort and no risks to leave him a mentally jumbled mess; not agitated, but certainly needy.

You were still sticking to a mental script, though. “How does it feel? Chalky? Rough? Sticky…?”

“I-It’s smooth. Feels thin.” He felt his tongue almost twist in his mouth from trying to speak when he was physically weakening over you.

“Seems like a good formula,” you giggled.

He watched as you turned your back on him, explaining bits of beauty jargon that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. His vision seemed to blur as a need to satisfy the growing discomfort in his pants overwhelmed him. It all snapped away for a second when you switched the angle of your phone and pulled him up by his arms, leading him in front of the couch.

All of a sudden, you rubbed a circle around the base of his wrist. You looked up at him with eyes that demanded something from him. It was dark yet inviting as if he had just eyed down a wolf threatening to eat him whole.

The gesture was your signal that you wanted to fuck him then and there.

Felix finally didn’t have to keep to himself.

“Time to test how good it wears,” you smirked at him.

Felix’s eyes were focused on yours. He didn’t move an inch as your fingers crawled from his jaw to his cheek. You glanced at your phone, propped up on the countertop, to check if it was recording. When you looked back, your eyes met Felix’s red lips.

You were so glad that you picked that shade. The makeup line released a ton of colors and your mind folded into itself when you realized how many there were. It was almost overwhelming to choose a shade for your boyfriend: you wanted to see him with a pinky nude on his lips, but you also thought the dark berry shade looked pretty.

As a trained makeup artist, you had a knack for figuring out which hues elevated which skin tones. Of all people, you knew Felix’s skin would match the slightly muted, pinkish cherry satin stain.

You should know this. You’ve seen his skin flush many times before, that would be more than enough to be familiar with the hues of his delicious skin.

You were the reason why he would constantly blush, after all. His skin would burn under your slightest touch, but it would flare up until his freckles darkened each time you held him down on your hips and called him pretty. His cheeks would turn as red as the tip of his cock every time you squeezed it lightly. 

Before you could think of any more, you tapped your boyfriend’s cheek. His face burned into a shade not far from the color of his lipstick.

“Are you sure you want to record this with me?” You asked, eyes scanning his face for second thoughts.

Felix almost forgot that you needed a clip of the both of you briefly kissing. He nodded after a second, confusion snapping into realization as you smiled at him. He seemed to be lost in thought, too: maybe he was nervous, maybe he was thinking of the same things you thought about. Either way, he simply answered with a smirk and the faintest giggle.

“Yeah. I’m game.”

You were on a mission to prove that this lip product could not budge after an intense make-out session. Now, you — and maybe Felix — wanted to see if it could survive intense sex, too.

All it took were two inches forward: you grabbed his hands dangling in front of you and closed in. Your noses touched each other, the skin bumping softly before your lips slotted against his in the smoothest kiss possible. To his surprise, you started gently. He expected you to crash against his mouth. He expected you to rummage through the product sitting on his mouth right away, to test its strength as a long-lasting piece of makeup, but you didn’t.

Maybe he wanted you to be rough. He wanted it.

You could tell by the whimper he choked up behind the kiss. That, and his hands roamed around your arms and sides, pulling you closer.

“Getting a little excited now, are we?” You purred, pulling your face away from his. He hesitated to break the kiss, inching his lips closer to yours even as you talked.

“Sorry, s-sorry. Got a little carried away.”

You wondered what got him to be so clingy and affectionate. You’re well aware of him being loving and tender, but it’s another thing to have him smitten while you’re doing nothing special.

Little did you know that to him, everything involving you is special. Even the texts you sent earlier and the ones you sent before. He couldn’t stop thinking about them; who wouldn’t, especially when you were being such a tease?

He finally pulled his head back. “Smooth,” he whispered.

You thought to tease him. “The lipstick?” 

“No,” Felix chuckled, “I meant you.”

Your hands traveled from up to his toned arms until one of them met the nape of his neck — his sensitive spot. You often called him a little kitten for enjoying being petted on that spot a little too much.

“So, did it rub off yet?” Your boyfriend managed to squeak, still affected by your antics.

His face was impossibly close to yours and you could feel the heat in his cheeks growing the more that he smiled at you. You stepped back to observe his face: apart from the blush on his cheeks, the lipstick was seemingly left unscathed. By the look on his face, he observed your lips, and there were no signs of product transferring. 

He also just wanted to kiss it again.

You raised an eyebrow at the camera and shrugged. “I guess it survived round one.”

“That was round one?” Felix mirrored the look you gave your phone. “I thought we call that first base.”

Your head whipped back to him. He simply smirked back, feigning an angel’s smile.

You’ve dated him for a long while, and while he had always been silly, he had never been this way in front of the camera. You wondered if the shoot he did — or the staff he was with — earlier had anything to do with a sudden ego boost.

“Now you’re bold, baby.”

The nickname caused Felix’s smirking eyes into wide ones, the excitement writing itself everywhere on his face.

“Just wanna do more with you,” he teased back. “Do more rounds, test how much removes.”

He puckered his lips and pouted. It was a juicy invitation that you couldn’t turn down. Instead, you took it with a kiss — a deep kiss, one that made you inhale and caught him off guard.

It was still gentle and velvety. It felt like you both tasted clouds and nothing was in between. The hand on the nape of his neck ran up to his hair and back down almost instinctively, making Felix shake. Unable to focus on both the sensation of a passionate kiss, an overwhelming urge to breathe and process the suddenness, and the general feeling of being petted, his hands swung to your chest and squeezed.

“Ah! Felix!” You whispered loudly against his mouth, almost moaning at the sensation.

“Sorry! Force of habit,” he said.

“Gotta keep it PG, baby, I’m posting this.” He nodded assuringly at your words but his hands were crucially still on your chest, threatening to squeeze again.

After realizing this, he immediately attempted to pull his hands back, an apology dripping on the tip of his tongue. Instead, you surprisingly threw your hands on his wrists, caging his hands in place.

If that didn’t surprise him enough, you leaned in close to his face and kissed him once more. It was fiery this time; he felt your tongue darting at him while your teeth nipped slightly at his bottom lip before you pulled away. He gasped louder than he should have.

You giggled at his shock and nuzzled your face on his neck. “Sorry. Reflex.”

“But mommy—” Felix froze, realizing what he had just said. He didn’t mean to say that.

All the cockiness he displayed earlier fizzled out into thin air. You could feel the heartbeat in his neck thumping against your lips. From his eyes fluttered shut to wide open ones, you could see the embarrassment wash over him.

Sure, you two were doing something intimate, kissing and groping in front of the camera. He knew and trusted you enough to edit it out, but the idea that footage would have existed of him calling you that nickname…scared him. The camera watched him, the microphone picked up his low voice, and on the off-chance that this moment makes the cut, thousands of people would have seen it. 

He’d gotten used to the idea that millions of people could pass by his face and body, but it’s different when he’s exposing a bit of himself that he only reserved for you — his “mommy.”

“Y/N… Shit, I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t—”

“Oh baby, it’s okay.” You gave a reassuring look and a warm smile, shifting your position to hide his face away from the phone camera.

The pet name was his suggestion. The idea that you could hold this title as his dominant partner was something he never thought of telling you at first, but the moment he mentioned it, you indulged immediately. It was something so dear, so sweet, and soft, definitely making you less of an ominous presence to him in bed and more like a warm home he can return to. You loved it even if he didn’t expect you to.

Even while he’s embarrassed and fully vulnerable, he felt so safe, entrusted to the only one in his life that could take the title without judgment. 

“Call me that as much as you want. I won’t show it,” you whispered. Felix nodded but you didn’t miss the tears threatening to form in his eyes.

“Mommy…” He inevitably gave up and dipped his head in the crook of your neck. You petted the back of his head again and kissed the side of his head, calming him with hushes and soft hums.

Before he could melt at your warm embrace, you took a few steps back. Felix whined and hoped to hug you for longer, only to watch you press the button on your phone to stop the recording. You shut the phone off, looked back at him, and smiled with your eyes.

He always valued your respect for his boundaries and the fact that you always made his comfort your top priority.

“We’re not done,” you inched closer, “the lipstick’s still on there.”

Because if you two were going to fuck comfortably, you two were still going to fuck.

Taking his arms and pulling them towards you, you prompted him to wrap himself around you as your lips crashed against his. You held him by his waist — it was remarkably small, toned, and muscled but definitely made for your hands to take it.

With force, you hugged his waist and carried him slightly, pushing you both on the couch. You sat on it while he was essentially hovering over your figure, his hips just above your lap.

“Mommy—g-god,” Felix gasped, muffled by another nudge of your mouth.

As if your brain switched off, your hands started going on their own. One was trained on his hip and the other snaked up his side and cupped his face, making him tremble at the sudden yet soft movements.

You were focused on the kiss but you just knew he looked gorgeous.

Of all the clients you put makeup on, your boyfriend always turned out the prettiest. Maybe it’s because his eyes seemed to shine with certain shadows on them. Maybe it’s the way his freckles peek through the base products. In this case, maybe it was the plumpness of his lips that you loved, covered in a flattering shade of red. Maybe that’s what was doing it for you.

“You’re so cute, baby,” you said, pausing the kiss.

Felix pouted. The pigment on his lips accentuated the curves of his mouth. “Not as cute as mommy.”

“Hm, thank you. But you’re my cute baby.”

Sometimes, you wonder how you got this to be so vulnerable, so whipped for you. It didn’t take him that long to warm up to you with this side of him, a side he so dearly hid from the rest of the world. It’s like this doll was made for you.

“Mommy,” Felix dragged out a whimper as he called you by the title. “Making me needy.”

“Don’t get impatient baby boy,” you whispered, a kiss on his temple following your sweet words.

While rolling your hips onto his, you thought about it what you said. You thought back to the last night he fell into this extremely submissive role. He’d always been the one under you and you’ve always been the one in control, but during that one night — similar to this one — he shyly asked you to call him a certain pet name. You loved it, probably more than he did, and you figured he might want to hear you say it again.

“Or are you my baby girl for tonight?”

“Mommy!” Felix scolded. If his cheeks were already flushed, his entire face heated up with a warmth that you simply indulged in. His ears and the corners of his eyes lit up with a blush tone that complimented and accentuated the cherry color that lined his shy smile.

He enjoyed the pet name too much, and he seemed to be threatened with memories of the same night the moment you said it.

“What? Don’t want to be my baby girl? It’s okay if you—”

“I’m mommy’s girl! Yeah, I’m their baby girl!”

Almost all traces of bass in Felix’s voice left the moment he squealed his response to you. 

His eyebrows were slanting upwards like a needy puppy, his eyes sparkled as beads of tears sat on his eyelashes, and he wiggled his hips onto yours with a neediness you’ve seen many times before. He briefly whimpered again in a high pitch. 

Being called that for the first time was as special to him as it was to you. It still landed him punches to the gut every time you said it. You would wonder why he loved it even if he was incredibly comfortable in his masculinity.

Maybe it made sense like that, considering he was wearing makeup while sitting on your lap.

You kissed him again and praised him until he gave into the burning sensations he felt from your overwhelmingly smooth graces around his body. With fast swipes, you pulled his plain shirt over his head, only to clothe him again with nothing but the warm embrace of your arms.

He moaned, writhed, and whined, adjusting his position on your lap until his legs were slotted against one of your thighs. Once he found his balance, he rutted against your leg, letting out a sound that he couldn’t resist.

“Didn’t even undress you yet, I still have pants on, and you’re already riding me?” You smiled widely at him. Felix huffed, unable to think, inhaling so that he wouldn’t drool on your shirt.

Or your chest, now that you abandoned your top in a flash, leaving it even harder for him to contain himself.

You took his lips into yours again, this time licking and biting his sweet mouth, allowing his tongue to slide against yours. It was messy and sloppy, just the way he needed it. You wondered if he had been craving this for so long and just couldn’t tell you.

Nevertheless, the next step was to take the bottoms off of your lower half and his own, but he paused your hands from reaching onto his crotch.

“W-Want mommy’s off first,” he sighed. It sounded more like a question now that his voice was so high and his tone was so soft. He was far from the boy whose mouth went foul over his own best friends at work.

His head was far gone, you figured.

Felix helped you pull your pants down, careful not to disrupt the current position that you were both in, only slightly lifting yourself off the couch. He sighed once he saw you, bare and beautiful, rid of anything that kept him from being horny the entire day.

He wanted you so bad.

“Baby girl, tell me,” it was your turn to pause his hands from reaching you.

“Is something bothering you?”

“No…not really a-a bother…” He pursed his lips.

He figured to rip the bandaid off and just show you the source of his discomfort—or, as it seems, the source of his pleasure.

“Baby girl, you…”

He revealed a pastel pink lacy fabric covering his private area. He was wearing panties.

“I…I got them from a PR package…from th-that one underwear company…” Felix justified, stuttering from both extreme embarrassment and arousal.

“It was supposed to be yours b-but I…liked it so much…a-and I wanted to…”

You couldn’t help but notice the drool threatening to fall from his tongue, glossing his lips. Distracted, you didn’t kiss him. You licked his mouth and bit his bottom lip again. The blood under his skin rushed to color his lips, emphasizing the pink-colored stain.

As you bit his lip, your fingers found the band of his panties, toying with the pink lace before slipping under it. The flesh — rather, his cock — was hard and pulsing. Felix moaned. His chest heaved from being unable to process everything at once.

“Baby girl’s clit is so hard for me already.” You pecked his cheek and let him whine. “You’ve been needy since earlier?”

“Y-Yeah, but, ‘m…not finished.” He mumbled under his breath. “Got more…to show you.”

He pulled his panties fully down, allowing his cock to bounce up. You couldn’t help but notice something at the base, but your suspicions were confirmed when he led one of your hands to touch his ass.

“You wore a butt plug the whole day?”

Felix’s face flushed into a shade similar, if not deeper than the cherry red he wore on his lips. At your words, he felt like crumpling into himself. 

“It’s just for you. Thought y-you’d like it.”

All you could do in response was kiss him deeply and thrust your thigh up, hitting the plug deeper into his ass.

He moaned deliciously into the kiss and almost cried at the contact. It fucked with him — literally — the entire day and you made it all the better. Only that he had so little time to adjust before you gave him a dark look again.

“Mommy, what are you—”

He was shut up by you licking his mouth and your fingers filling up his hole.

“Your cunt’s so fucking wet, baby girl.” Your words left your system through gritted teeth, filtering your animalistic desire to ruin him even more than ever. “This pussy is mine and only mine.”

You bit his lip once more, sucking on the plump flesh before abandoning it. “Bet your toys can’t satisfy you as I do.”

“They d-don’t, mommy!” Felix was on the verge of tears, choking back sobs as your teeth found his jaw, peppering it with love bites lining his natural contour.

You started pumping your fingers up and down his ass, hitting his prostate with your fingertips over and over. “Can only take me inside your cunt.”

“Ah, god—fuck, mommy!” The delirious sounds escaping him as he scrambled to hold onto your body kept you going.

As if he noticed, he started grinding into the air next to your entrance. You took this as his usual sign that he wanted to please you too. Felix valued mutual pleasure and craved it as much as he craved the sloppy crashing of mouths on a couch.

“Take me like a good girl.” Your voice softened as you cooed. “Can you do it? Ride mommy’s fingers while fucking into me?”

He could only nod frantically, allowing the drool in his mouth to drop onto his cock. 

The lipstick probably looked so messy by now.

You held his cock, lengthy and hard, and squeezed it in your free hand. “This is mommy’s to play with.” 

Shoving it into your entrance, you curled your fingers deep onto Felix’s prostate, eliciting loud moans from either of you. Felix could scream from the sudden warmth enveloping his cock.

“Rub your clit against me,” you demanded, urging him to thrust his cock immediately. He complied only to start whining and crying out from the stimulation.

You leaned your head to the side and exposed your neck. With a subtle nod of your head, you invited him to bite your neck before his next thrust. Lightning bolts entered you when his teeth sunk into your skin for some semblance of comfort.

In turn, you kissed and sucked a spot on Felix’s shoulder. The biting sensation made him squirm away from you, but his noises only amplified when you latched onto a more sensitive spot above his freckled collarbone. It didn’t help that your fingers were practically exiting and entering his hole completely, filling and emptying him at a speed he almost couldn’t take.

The stimulation from all ends of his body caught up to him, release rumbling from his core up to his cock. He begged and pleaded and called your name multiple times as you did too. Felix readied for release but shocked himself when it came suddenly, almost without warning.

He started gushing just outside your entrance, the relief surging through his hips in waves: it had never happened to him before, but the slight amusement on his fucked-out face sent you over the edge too.

You came at the same time, your wetness coating the sides of your thighs and the cushions of the couch, the pool of both your juices mixing right under you.

It had to take you both several minutes to an hour of downtime before you both got up to clean. During that time, Felix held you close, trapping you in a warm cuddle.

“Y/N, I love you,” he whispered, his deep voice returning, calming you from your high.

You pressed one more kiss on his lips. “I love you too, Felix.”

Aftercare had to be a non-negotiable after the scene you guys painted all over the living room.

You made sure to offer Felix the softest bubble bath, massaging and soothing every inch of his skin, scrubbing away at the residue of the new lipstick.

You both found out, just before the bath, that it barely survived at all. It still stained his lips a shade of red, and the stains of love bites that he left on you stuck for a long while, but the actual product budged possibly within the third round of kisses. It barely held on when you started biting him.

The bedroom was full of giggles and the shuffling of your bodies cuddling close to calm yourselves down. Felix shared how he couldn’t believe his horniness that day, and you teased that he was being a hormonal girl.

He whined at that, kissed you good night, and fell asleep while huddled close to your chest. You calmly played with your phone, quickly editing the footage and clipping out the moment that he slipped into submission.

That was for your eyes only.

You posted the video and muted the notifications, kissed his forehead good night, and fell asleep.

—

“Baby, baby girl…” Your voice, although hoarse and deep from the blissful sleep, woke your boyfriend up. The clock on your bedside table flashed 9:00 AM in bright red, but the light from your phone shone brighter. “Look at this!”

“Holy…Y/N, oh my god!” Every trace of sleepiness left Felix as he jumped out of bed. “The video blew up?!”

You sat up next to him, chuckling in disbelief. “Let’s see what people are saying.”

“Why does the suggested search bar have…”

Men marked up. Men with hickeys. Men whining. It was clear that the video affected your audience in more ways than one.

“Silly,” you giggled, sinking into your boyfriend’s embrace. “Wonder how this thing got through community guidelines.”

Felix pointed at a comment. “Help. Someone’s asking about washing the stains off.”

The both of you cuddled closer. As the sunlight shone through your curtains and hit your figures, it highlighted Felix’s honey skin and the cherry stains that failed to wash off in the shower.

You turned your head to his and smirked. “Should we film an update video? What about a part 2?”

taglist: @toastyseungmo @hobihearteu @biddes-enthusiast @snow-pegasus @subby-kpop @myrandomthoughtsandhobbies @eggielix @hanniecheesecake @chrisbahng @laylasbunbunny @ppiri-bahng @he-they-heathen @chriscentric @svintsandghosts @sstarryoong

+ @imrllytootiredforthis @imsolovelylovely @beefis @sorikkung @lix-ables figured to tag since yall showed interest!

special thanks to @meivida, my ride or die, the big brain that inspired me to write this in the first place! they also took time out of their day to proofread it ^_^

thank you for reading ! consider reblogging and leaving feedback if you loved my work 💗 artwork and writing © ipegchangbin. no reposts and translations.

[catscidr]

i. note — i was feeling a certain typa way because i kept coming across fics where the reader was described as busty so i wrote this in like two hours to make myself feel better lmao sue me…. ii. includes — dottore, afab!reader. no pronouns used, only descriptions of boobs/looking womanly (?) iii. cw — fluff, hurt/comfort, crack-ish bc this is a little silly, dottore is trying his best (maaaybe ooc), a little suggestive but nothing happens, talks of sex and oral, casual touching. MDNI. tldr reader is self conscious about their body and dottore tries to make them feel better lol iv. wc — 1,8k

It’s not often that you get to lay in bed with your lover; he’s always busy running around his lab, either fixing others’ mistakes or scrapping his own work to start over what he has spent so much time on. Dating the infamous Il Dottore was a challenge not many were strong enough for, but you made it work.

You would spend time with him in Haeresys by helping him with some tasks (even if they were small, and didn’t really need to be done in the first place). Handing him different tools when he’d wordlessly ask for them while neck deep in the guts of a Ruin Guard, carefully organizing old reports and documents in his desk that would never see the light of day anytime soon, and bringing him a healthy meal to eat while he worked (though you would do that yourself, because Archon forbid he actually eats on his own accord).

So, given how sparse your time together is, of course you would make it count. Of course you would use that time wisely, go out for an evening to a nice restaurant, maybe even cuddle up on the couch to binge an entire season of a show you had been meaning to watch for ages but couldn't bring yourself to because you wanted to watch it with him.

You wouldn’t dare spend your evening together in bed, wallowing in your own self-pity while he sits up, reading a book you can’t even stomach the contents of.

...Except that’s exactly what you’re doing.

You can't really help it, though. You know how he is; diligent and hardworking, a man of his craft. You know he doesn’t have the time to entertain you and your silly questions and hypotheticals, you know he’s not too fond of sweet touches and words of affection. You know this isn’t your typical relationship, but you don’t mind because you get to be with him— and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Save for when you sulk and feel so incredibly insecure and inadequate for a man such as himself.

Humans have needs. You are human, and you have needs. Dottore is a human (to some extent, though still technically human), so he, naturally, also has needs.

The issue lies in the enormous, metaphorical physical gap between you and your lover. Naturally, Dottore is essentially married to his craft, so getting any sort of action is usually out of the question. You can get a peck or two out of him, one in the morning and one at night (if you’re even awake to feel his scarred lips gently pressing into your cheek), but that’s where the list of physical affection ends.

You’ve talked about your desires and boundaries alike when you first (officially) started going out. The discussion didn’t leave out anything sexual in nature either; though the conversation was mostly led by you, while he simply nodded and pitched in with a word or two every so often.

It’s not to say you’ve never been physical with one another. But recently it’s been happening less and less, and you’ve been finding yourself in this position a lot more often; curled into yourself, lost in your own thoughts as you picked out every little detail about you that you were certain weren’t up to his standards. 

It’s only when you feel him shift next to you that you’re brought back to your shared bedroom, away from the rainy clouds stuffing your mind. 

Dottore shuts the book in his lap, keeping his right hand’s thumb wedged between the pages. He peers down at you with a curious expression, silently analyzing your suspicious silence. 

“You’re quieter than usual,” he comments, tone as flat as it could be. You crane your neck back to look up at him, the duvet covering most of your face as you wrack your brain for something to say. 

After a second of opening and closing your mouth, you finally say something. “’M just tired,” you murmur quietly, nuzzling deeper into the blankets to sell your point. He hums in response, placing his book on the nightstand next to his side of the bed and crosses his arms in front of him, brow quirked up in disapproval. Piercing red eyes stare down at you, making you hold back a shudder. Archons, you’d never get tired of seeing him without that ornate mask of his.

“It’s quite abnormal for you, of all people, to be silent when presented with the opportunity to have a conversation with me, uninterrupted” Dottore states, watching as you tense in your little cocoon. After a beat you emerge from your safety, chin just barely peeking out of the edge of the duvet. 

“...I had a long day.” You avoid looking at him, a pout gracing your lips. He huffs in response and runs a hand through his loose hair. “Long day you say?” Dottore keeps his composure intact, remembering the moments you’ve whined to him throughout the day about how completely and utterly bored you felt. 

“Mm. Long day, right,” he brings one hand down to hold onto the duvet and pulls it down, making you reach for the blanket to cover yourself up; though your efforts are in vain. “What’s on your mind.” 

The way he spoke to you sent shivers down your spine, shuddering at the way he spoke in a way he would when making a statement. 

“Nuhh... nothing. Nothing at all, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shift in the bed to cover yourself, even if it’s entirely unnecessary. The tee shirt you wore covered you plenty, but without the duvet you just felt so... exposed. Especially with how well Dottore could read your body language; it’s like you didn’t even need to say anything (because you didn’t). 

His gaze on you never relents as he scrutinizes your appearance; your furrowed brows, your hair sprawled across the pillow- still damp from your shower- and the way your lip trembles almost imperceptibly as you hold back the urge to talk about what’s been bothering you. He hates having to metaphorically twist your arm to get you to open up, but if that’s what he needed to do to keep you sane, he’d do it over and over again. 

Dottore scoots his body down to lay in the bed properly and turns to his side to face you, icy hair cascading down his neck as he pulls you in towards him with a hand on your waist. You squeak, tilting your head back so as to not invade his personal space. 

“What’s on your mind?” he asks, softer than before but still with a demanding tone. You shrink, avoiding looking into his eyes. 

“Nothi-” 

“I’m not in the mood for games.” He says your name quietly, thinly veiled with an unspoken warning. 

With a huff you bite the inside of your cheeks, and finally relent. You speak quietly and without even an ounce of confidence, earning a sharp sigh from your lover. 

“I can’t hear you when you mumble like th-” 

“I’m flat!” you practically shout. 

Dottore blinks back the whiplash that hit him in the face, stern expression fading into one of complete and utter perplexion. You don’t elaborate, staying quiet as a deep flush takes over your cheeks. 

“You’re... what?” 

He stares at you owlishly, for once at a loss for words. You nod, sitting up to properly articulate your feelings now that the cat was out of the bag. 

“My boobs are small! I have no ass! I’m... I look like a door!” You gesture at your chest, expression looking entirely distraught as you vent your feelings out to your lover. Your shoulders droop down unceremoniously, lips jutting out in a pout as you stare at the wall to avoid crossing Dottore’s gaze. The sound of the wind howling outside of your bedroom window morphs into what almost sounds like a laugh, as if mother nature herself was cackling at your expense.

“I feel bad when people see you with me. I can’t... I have such a bad gag reflex I can’t even take a third of your dick in my m-” 

He cuts you off by placing a hand on your shoulder, frown etched deep onto his face. If you looked closely you’d see red dusting the tips of his ears, contrasting against his hair. 

“You’re self-conscious because you have... small breasts and a... sensitive uvula?” Dottore says, his tone completely void of the confidence he usually carried. Fingers comb through your hair, light and gentle, as he thinks of what he can even say in response to your confession. 

You sniffle, looking down at yourself. The shirt you wore did little to help your smaller cup size— and as you frown at yourself, you bring a hand up and place it over one breast. “See, even my hand can cover them easily. My body doesn’t have even a little bit of curves.” 

Although at a loss, Dottore recovers from the absurdity of the situation in record time. He shifts your body so you’re now facing him, and very casually slips his hands underneath your shirt to cup your breasts. He speaks before you can, cutting off the slurry of complaints you had ready. 

“Have I ever complained about them?” he asks solemnly, forcing you to look at him. “As far as I’m aware I never have. Why bother being concerned over something so trivial?” 

His hands squeeze them gently, making you squeak in response. The more seconds pass, the more ashamed and flustered you feel for even bringing this up. As if a man of his caliber would even care for something like this, how stupid do you have to be to think of him as someone that only cared for looks?

“Well, no, but-” another squeeze cuts off your train of thoughts,” -b-but the rest...! Men like women with a fuller figure, I can’t even give you a titjob!” 

The words that flew out of your mouth made his head spin, from both irritation and embarrassment simultaneously. He inhales and exhales slowly, dragging his palms down to your ribs, then your waist, until they settle atop your hips. 

“I’ve never asked for anything of the sort,” he sighs, observing the changes in your face carefully. 

“Yeah, but-” 

“No ‘but’s. Your body is fine. It does not matter how it looks like from the outside; your organs are working properly, and you do not have any abnormalities forming anywhere inside or outside of it. How your figure looks holds little importance to me.” 

His words sink in, and you feel your invisible dog ears droop to rest flat on top of your head as you glance down at your lap, shame ringing in your ears. Dottore’s grasp tightens around your hips, demanding for your attention to be on him once again, refusing to let you sulk as long as he could help it.

“Although, putting functionality aside, do I need to remind you exactly what I think of your body? Shall I remind you how you make me feel whenever I see you parading around my office? How my body reacts to you?”

Your lips threaten to quirk up into a sheepish smile, but your shame still ate you up from the inside, keeping you from reacting. Your lover hums and flashes you a wolfish grin, leaning in towards your neck to nibble at your ear, teasing the flushed skin. 

“We do have the rest of the night to ourselves, don’t we? Want to find out just how much your body affects me, my love?”

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Jeonghan: Sold (Part Three)

Characters: Jeonghan x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, angst, loooots of mentions of the black market/human trafficking, people in cages, shock collars, violence, murder, guns, possible minor character death, just a lot of bad things happening here and it's very chaotic lmao

Word count: 3,253

Summary: If Jooyeon and Baekhyun never went snooping around the black market, they would’ve never discovered the human trafficking ring and wanted to help. They would’ve never discovered you inside one of the many cages full of people, and Jeonghan would’ve never went against the alphas and demanded they help. But for you, Jeonghan would do anything, even if it means bringing back trouble from a past he never knew about.

a/n: things in bold are meant to be in english

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“Look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn’t do it if it were Jooyeon in there. Or Yeji. Or Soomin. Or any of the girls in this household. You’d see your mate laying in a cage, dirty, exhausted, knowing they were being sold off to a pack of mate-collectors, and you’d just let them go?”

That was enough persuasion for the pack to finally cave and agree to help Jeonghan. Those who had mates understood how it felt. The others could imagine how horrible it must’ve felt to see that, and the determination Jeonghan felt to do anything possible to get you out of that situation. 

Junmyeon’s pack was hard to persuade – well, except for Chanyeol – but they eventually agreed to help.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to overtake whoever’s behind the ring, though,” Junmyeon admitted. “We don’t even know how many people are involved.”

“Hanbin will no doubt help us,” Kyung said.

“I can ask Chris, too,” Cooper shrugged. “At least having Felix or Changbin would be helpful.”

“Either way,” Seungcheol interrupted, “we’re going to plan this from all angles. Whether we have four packs or just two – we’re going to make sure we can pull this off.”

“Our main goal is getting Blue out of there,” Jihoon added on, “but we’re gonna try to save as many people as we can.”

Jongdae stopped the explanation, “Who’s Blue?”

“That’s what Jeonghan started calling her,” Joshua explained. 

“It’s the color of her collar,” the boy in question shrugged. “What else am I supposed to call her?”

“That rhymed!” Soonyoung smiled, pointing to Jeonghan enthusiastically before taking Jihoon’s palm to the back of the head.

“Where are these captives expected to go after they’re free?” Sehun wondered. “Just…wander off into the woods? They’ll just get caught again.”

“Cooper and I worked together with an ally of mine to find some safe housing for them,” Kyung explained. “Her and her partners work under the table as werewolf doctors. Besides, the public already views werewolves as horrible creatures so I’m sure anybody would be willing to take someone in who was almost a part of a werewolf kidnapping.”

“And how long do we have to figure all of this out?” Yixing questioned.

“That’s the problem,” Seungcheol sounded a little afraid and unsure now, “...we don’t know. Which means we have to plan this and execute it immediately.”

-

You felt absolute fear watching the girl be thrown to the ground, blood covering half her face. But you didn’t scream or even move. You learned not to. You did anything you were told to avoid drawing attention to yourself. Anything to not get hurt more than you already were.

“Can you be fucking careful?” one of the other men snapped gruffly at the one who’d thrown the girl to the ground by her hair. “If they’re damaged, they’re not gonna pay as much!”

“They already paid half and it was more than enough,” another said.

“But I want the other half in full!”

You knew about whoever had bought you. The men kept saying you were going to be ‘slaves to monsters’, but you were pretty sure they were the real monsters. You’d heard all the stories about werewolves, but you didn’t feel any fear knowing you were soon going to be shipped off to a den of them. However, you didn’t trust any human anymore. Your whole life, all they’d done is hurt you and betray you. None of them were compassionate. All of them just looked for personal gain, and you were somehow always in the crossfire.

Maybe a life with werewolves would be better.

In the cage next to you, you heard a scoff. You already knew it was Saoirse. She seemed to always be doing something to get in trouble, but she was the only person there that you talked to. She was the only human you’d met that wasn’t completely horrible.

“They’re gonna be in for a rude awakening when these cages are empty one morning,” she muttered.

You scooted a little closer to the edge of the cage closest to her, “What?”

Saoirse was the only person you ever spoke to. You wouldn’t necessarily consider her a friend considering the trouble she got herself in, but she was someone that you could keep at arm's length. She’d been nice to you a handful of times, so you’ve gotten her out of trouble with her language barrier in return. You spoke to each other here and there to pass the time and relieve boredom, but that was really it.

She glanced over at you like she just now noticed you were there before she looked back at the scene in the middle of the tent, “Some creatures showed up here last night. They looked human but their eyes were something else, and they promised to get us all out of here.”

You were both speaking quietly so as to not draw the attention away from the men bickering among themselves, but you still kept stealing glances over toward them to make sure they didn’t notice the two of you talking.

“And you trust strangers to save us?” you questioned.

She shrugged, “What reason would they have to come here and find us? And why would they lie about saving us?”

“What reason would they have to save us?” you countered, looking back at her.

She tisked, “Let me have something to be hopeful for, will ya?”

“Hey!” one of the men yelled, making you jump but Saoirse didn’t even seem phased. You whipped your head around while her eyes just glanced behind you to the three men. “Do you two wanna be next?”

You quickly shook your head.

Saoirse never understood what they said, so she just muttered for them to fuck off like she always did, which then angered the men because they couldn’t understand her. Typically, they’d do something to punish her, but today, the man scoffed and waved the issue away.

“The freaks will have a field day with you,” he spat before the three of them left the tent.

“Guess lunch time isn’t happening…” she muttered with a roll of her eyes.

“You need to stop making things worse for yourself,” you huffed, your voice tired.

Truthfully, you were still feeling quite groggy. You always were, but you’d woken up only a few minutes prior to the girl getting beat for whatever reason the men found to do so. You didn’t want to go back to sleep but it was hard keeping your eyes open.

“I’m not letting shit like this happen to me without a fight,” she scoffed. “If I’m capable, I’ll do anything to stop what’s happening to us. I mean, those people last night wouldn’t have come and offered to free us if I didn’t stay awake.”

“We’re all going to the same place either way,” you finally snapped, sending her a glare. “You’re fighting for nothing and making it worse for yourself – and you almost dragged me down with you. Leave me out of your…righteous bullshit or whatever.”

You rarely snapped at Saoirse, but she still didn’t seem phased by it, “You need to stop letting bad shit happen to you, Girl. That’s why it keeps happening. You don’t do anything to try and fight back.”

“And which one of us have gotten beaten the most?”

Before Saoirse could come up with a snappy reply that you knew she’d have, the tent flaps opened again, and two different men showed up with stale bread. They tossed half a loaf in each cage that everyone would fight over and tear apart like animals. Some hurt each other in the process, so hungry that they were feral for every single crumb they could get, even if it meant scratching and grabbing at each other.

As always, you stayed away in a corner and watched the other six people in your cage dive after the bread tossed in, snarling and yelling and fighting over it. You didn’t get food, but at least you weren’t injured even worse.

“Hey. Girl.”

That’s what Saoirse called you. You didn’t have a name – not that you could remember. So she always called you Girl to get your attention.

You turned your head just in time to see Saoirse tossing something through the bars and into your cage. You quickly cupped your hands to catch whatever it was. A piece of bread half the size of your fist.

You glanced back up at her and she offered you a small smirk before biting into her half of the bread. Nobody in the cage dared fight Saoirse over the portion she’d managed to get because she was infamous for fighting back. They knew fighting against her would be a losing battle because she dared to even fight back against the men holding them all captive.

Maybe it was smarter to fight back like Saoirse, even if it meant worse punishments. But life had punished you so much already, and you were tired of fighting.

As you nibbled on your bread, turning so your back was to your cagemates, you decided one really couldn’t teach old dogs new tricks.

-

The locked gate in front of the flaps to the tent was no issue for Soonyoung before, but the pack needed him focused. So the question stood as the pack planned for the prison break: how to get into the tent in the first place without running into the werewolf traps set around the perimeters?

“Okay…” Cooper began slowly and softly, afraid to speak the plan she was brewing out loud because she didn’t want it to be considered bad or stupid, “what if we had someone on the inside who could unlock the gate? Like…maybe a mouse?”

“A mouse?” Chanyeol had scoffed.

Jihoon considered the idea and shrugged slightly, “I mean, that’s not a bad idea, actually. Small enough the guards probably wouldn’t see him.”

“Where the hell are you guys gonna find a trained mouse?” Baekhyun asked with an incredulous laugh.

Chris simply pointed with his thumb to the boy sitting beside him, “Perfectly trained, right here.”

“Make that two,” Jaesang said as he raised his hand to head-level.

And that’s exactly what step one of the plan was. A tiny gray mouse scurried around the perimeter of the outside of the tent, alongside a dark brown one, going up toward the black iron gate. The outside of the gate wasn’t protected this time, but Felix and Jaesang could see two men inside the gate that were a few feet away from the entrance. 

They shimmied up one of the bars to the latch and together, managed to push it up, jumping down as the gate swung open so they could hurry inside before possibly getting stepped on, knowing they couldn’t see the people who would be following right behind them.

The two guards looked up, their conversation falling silent as the gate swung open seemingly out of nowhere.

“How the hell did that happen?” one of the men asked as they both stepped up to inspect the gate’s latch before closing it. “Did the latch break?”

“No, it looks–”

The man didn’t finish his sentence as his head was suddenly thrown back like he’d been punched in the face. The other guy looked up in surprise, only for his neck to get twisted at an unnatural angle, and with a snap, he fell to the ground. His companion soon met the same fate as a human Jaesang snuck up behind him while he was distracted with the pain in his now bloodied nose.

Seungcheol and Cooper appeared behind the first man’s body, Cooper’s hand on Seungcheol’s back being removed now that they were safe to be visible.

“There’s more guys around the back,” Felix informed them as the rest of the group began rushing in through the front gate. “We’re gonna have our work cut out for us.”

“We’ve got four packs against some humans,” Jinyoung chuckled, clearly feeling good about the odds. “It’ll be a piece of cake.”

“Just don’t get too cocky,” Hanbin warned.

“Cocky’s his middle name,” Kyung muttered before going off with her group to subdue the men keeping the people in the cages.

-

“Alright, get up! Everybody up! Let’s go!”

It wasn’t the first time you’d woken up to a man yelling for you all to wake up, but this wasn’t a voice you’d heard before. This one was softer, but still sounded urgent. Your eyes groggily peeled open as you tried to sit up, your bones and joints stiff and aching. Your vision was blurry so you thought you were surely just seeing things when you saw someone grab ahold of the metal bars and pull them open almost effortlessly. You sat up completely and rubbed at your eyes, only to see someone with blonde hair, yellow eyes, and a kind smile standing right in front of you, his slender fingers wrapped around the bars. He looked like an absolute angel with his perfect teeth, pink lips, and kind eyes that looked right at you. He made your heart flutter.

“Let’s get you out of here,” he said before pushing the bars apart enough to create a gap for the people in your cage to get out.

He was quick to scoop you up before the other six people in your cage trampled you to get free. But as soon as you were too close to the bars, your collar went off with a continuous shock that had you letting out a strangled yell.

Jeonghan was quick to grab the collar by the black box and rip the blue collar from your neck. 

Unfortunately for the wolves, it was chaos trying to free these people. Of course, they were panicking trying to run away and weren’t going to listen to those trying to guide them safely outside the tent and to freedom. Some were guided out and made it to those waiting at the perimeter to guide them toward the safehouses they had set, but others were ignoring all instruction and running for their lives, getting hurt or killed in the process. Some of them ran out, clutching their necks as they were shocked to no end as they tried to make their escape. 

Jeonghan wasn’t focusing on that. His only job was to get you out and get you back to the house as quickly and safely as possible. Once he had you, he was supposed to run for it, and that’s exactly what he was doing, dodging other captives and wolves as he ran for the exit with every wolf he ran passed covering him so he could make a safe escape with you.

As you were being carried out, you saw another man prying open the bars of Saoirse’s cage. She immediately leapt out and followed where the man was pointing to, running to follow after you and the strange man who was carrying you. Her eyes caught yours over his shoulder, and she seemed to brighten a little and give you a knowing smile as if to say ‘I told you so’.

The man jogged through the gates before he bolted for an escape.

“Jihoon!” he called. “Cover me!”

Jihoon stopped what he was doing as soon as he spotted Jeonghan, then his eyes looked behind him to see a guard chasing after them. His eyes glowed to life as he held his palm toward the man before flinging him backward toward the tent, his back hitting the iron bars of the gate.

You looked around, seeing absolute chaos around you as giant wolves tore apart men, and captives ran for their lives or were shot down. Then you looked behind you to see Saoirse still running behind you.

If you weren’t looking at her, you wouldn’t have known the scream that came from her mouth was hers before she hit the ground. You could see blood staining the back of her shirt, the pool of it spreading. 

“Saoirse!” you cried, reaching your hand behind the man.

He skidded to a stop, turning to see who you were yelling for. He looked over at Jihoon again, and the alpha nodded, running toward the girl. 

Jeonghan didn’t wait to see what would happen to Saoirse. He couldn’t wait. He had to get you home. He had to get you to safety. So he turned back around and continued running the way he had been.

While he was focused on your safety, though, you were fixated on Saoirse’s. Sure, she was trouble, but she was the closest thing you’d ever had to a friend. So while Jeonghan ran, you watched over his shoulder to see what her fate would be.

-

The scream cut through the tense air. Everyone had clamped their hands over their ears, eyes closing tight as if it could help drown out the scream. Mingyu’s eyes were watering just from the sharp noise.

Finally, it died off, leaving everyone to look to Eunjin standing in the doorway of the den, hands still holding a plate of food like nothing happened. But her blue eyes were locked on the girl at the end of the hallway, clinging to the back of Jeonghan’s shirt with fear in her eyes. Eunjin’s eyes were glossy and filled with tears, and the two wolves who had been left behind to take care of the mates began to panic.

Eunjin was staring at you.

“What happened?” Joshua asked urgently as he rushed over to her. He stood in front of her, gently gripping her upper arms and searching her eyes, but it was like he wasn’t even there to her. It was like she was still staring through him at you. “Eunjin? Did you hear something? Do you sense something? What is it?”

The three wolves waited for her response, but they knew her scream woke up every single mate upstairs and they would no doubt be down to ask questions soon. Immediately, they feared the worst. One of their own had died. Hell, maybe you were going to kill them. That wouldn’t have caught Eunjin’s attention like that. She would’ve sensed or heard something more significant than that.

And you were even more confused than anyone else because that was the first thing you experienced after Jeonghan opened the door.

It felt like time was frozen until Eunjin’s lips quivered and she said in a whisper, “I have a bad feeling again…”

The small group looked around at each other with a mix of worried and grim looks. They all knew what that meant. It was a feeling she got when she had met Hansol before. She screamed when she saw him, and then Jiung died and things went downhill with Kyung. 

Then three pairs of golden eyes were on you, along with Eunjin’s blue eyes that sent a shiver down your spine for reasons other than her screaming at you.

But Jeonghan didn’t care. He didn’t care if you brought death or something, if he were honest. Maybe Eunjin just sensed death associated with you because of what had happened. He’d make up any excuse in his head for you. He’d defend you in front of his entire pack if he had to. All he wanted was you to be safe, and now that he had you in his arms, he could make sure you always would be. And he’d never let you go.

»»————-　　————-««

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[ghostlychief]

Weighted Blanket

This is part 2 to Pockets of Peace

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

Wc: 3.8k+ (First half is in Simon’s POV, second is reader’s POV)

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of children being victims on a mission (nothing graphic), brief, BRIEF mentions of self harm (this part is italicized if you want to skip OR can read it as wounds from fights or missions; emotionally vulnerable reader and Simon; some fluff; some cuddling

Summary: After your last mission, things changed between you and Ghost. Although feelings shifted and emerged, your quiet routine with the Lieutenant stayed the same. He never failed to provide you with little pockets of peace throughout your tumultuous life, and you treasure these moments, holding them close to your heart. Except this time, it’s you who returns the favor, and offers him a warm embrace to grieve quietly.

A/N: HELLO! Part two to Pockets of Peace is finally here. I really can’t express my gratitude for all the love that fic received. I really appreciate all your likes, comments, and reblogs. Comments are always so fun to read and same goes for the reblog tags <3 This is another purely indulgent fic lmao and I found this part harder to write than the first, so I hope you enjoy it just as much. As mentioned, the first half is written from Simon’s POV, so that was fun to explore and write. Sorry for any typos/grammar mistakes </3

ENJOY!

--

Simon didn’t have much to be grateful for in his life. Sure, he was thankful for the camaraderie he found within task 141, and his friendship with Soap (although he will never admit that they’re true friends). Outside of those two things, there wasn’t much, and he was okay with that. Comes with the line of work, he supposed.

It’s hard to trust people when majority end up pointing their gun at you, even after years of working together, training together, living together. Hell, it took him years to feel somewhat comfortable around the task 141 members. When he first joined, he barely talked to anyone except when necessary either when preparing for a mission, or during a mission. Afterwards he would float off to his room and be alone. He ate alone, trained alone (unless sparing was required by Price), he went out alone. Not that he went out a lot, but if he had to leave the base, it was alone. He was somewhat of a recluse, a phantom hiding in the shadows that the team rarely ever saw.

The team member he first grew closest to, not without them trying, was Soap. The outgoing sergeant was able to make a friend out of the standoffish lieutenant, and even got Ghost to crack jokes during missions, a big deal for task force 141. This happened a little over a year and a half after Ghost joined the team. And now fast forward almost seven years later, and here he was, still on task force 141, but with a friend of sorts. That was one thing he was grateful for.

About two years in, he started to eat breakfast when the other team members did. Did he sit with them? No, of course not, but he was eating at the same time, just a few tables away. He started training with the other members more regularly, and on occasion, would coach them and give them tips here and there. And after a mission, he would sometimes tag along with the other men when they went out to a bar to wind down.

--

One night, shortly after you joined task 141, Ghost begrudgingly accepted Soap’s invite to go to a bar with the other male team members. Once they got there and had a few drinks, they were poking fun at him for having a “soft spot” for the new recruit.

He just rolled his eyes at their comments, and muttered “Fuck off,” up until they started talking about your skillset. Specifically, your lack of skills in sparing.

“Well, she certainly could improve her technique. We were sparing the other day, and I almost squashed her like a bug.”

“Yeah, she’s fast, but sure doesn’t know what to do with her speed and size. I pinned her down almost every time.”

“Yeah, last week, I had her in a headlock and almost made her pass out.”

“Hey Ghost, haven’t you been training with her? I’m sure you crush her each time you spar; she doesn’t have a chance against you.”

“Doubt she’s improved at all, even with Ghost’s help.”

Ghost couldn’t help but notice the frequent use of the word ‘almost,’ and at this point, he had enough. The comments the 141 members made weren’t even accurate. Sure, you had some improving to do, but by no means were you bad. He felt like they just felt threatened by you, a young woman with much more potential than them. He also had a feeling that they were jealous of your mastery at sniping. To put it simply, Ghost knew they were full of shit.

“She’s actually improved quite a lot.” His rough voice pierces through the air, silencing the banter surrounding him.

Embers burned at the pit of his stomach at the thoughtless comments his teammates said so flippantly about you. Embers that soon caught fire, and burned bright crimson flames. He stayed composed, but his eyes flickered, darkened by the shadows of the black paint surrounding them, and the tarnished skull that covered his nose and mouth. All the more imposing to those who looked at him.

“Plus, someone had to give her pointers for fighting a highly skilled, large, and imposing person; something you short fucks couldn’t do.”

Ghost was met with silence once again, and he smirked under his balaclava. Since then, the other men of task 141 have not commented on your sparing abilities, not wanting to be cursed out by Ghost.

And hey, it was all worth it when the next day you defeated Soap, match after match.

--

New recruits of 141 typically come and go, retention isn’t all that great. So, when you joined the team, he wasn’t expecting you to persevere, and stay. He was impressed by your skillset; snipers are always impressive in his mind. But your agility and speed that allowed you to take down opponents twice your size, is what mainly caught his eye. Sure, you needed some improvement, but you were promising.

When you first joined the team, you were so nice to everyone, even him. That’s not something he’s privy to in his line of work. Yet, you didn’t seem intimidated by him at all, not in the slightest. He didn’t have the slightest clue as to why. You just kept being so warm to him and he didn’t know what to do with that.

Of course, he wasn’t nervous to be around you, no that certainty wasn’t it; but he couldn’t help the warm feeling that would spread through his chest whenever you would talk to him. At first you only conversed with one another in meetings, debriefs, missions, etc. All work related, with no cross over into ‘personal life territory’. Simon was content with this, he rarely ever crossed that boundary with the other 141 teammates, so why would he with you? Incidentally, you and him started to get paired together mission after mission, and he couldn’t help but want more.

Ghost was immediately impressed at your abilities to smoothly get in and get out during missions, especially with what little experience you had. Not that you were any less competent than any of the other 141 team members, you just hadn’t been in the field for as long as some of them. You were smart as a whip though, and you got the job done quickly and quietly, and never got in his way. That was something he deeply respected about you. You understood the task at hand, asked questions if needed, but otherwise were highly independent. An admirable trait that takes some weight off of his shoulders as a Lieutenant. Something that he quickly added to his list of things he was grateful for.

You also had the curiosity to learn more, and to learn from the more experienced team members. Always ready with a question, and never embarrassed to ask. Sure, you were quiet like him, but when it came to job stuff, you didn’t hesitate to make your presence known.

He still remembers, one night after completing a mission, you and him were sitting in the helicopter. You turned to him and asked, “How is it that you’re never scared?” Your sweet voice traveled over to him through the coms and he felt confounded by your question. He felt his stomach warm at your tone in which you asked him this. Did you somehow look up to him?

“Who said I was never scared?” He glanced over at you and saw your eyes sparkle at his response.

--

To say that Ghost was concerned after you got shot in the leg was an understatement. Although he tried his best to stay composed, he was having a full-blown crisis inside his mind while trying to get you to safety, which, was a safe house miles from your current location. He couldn’t properly examine your wound, so he had no idea how bad of a state you were in, and he hated blind spots.

That was the first mission he ever felt real fear for you; distressed with thoughts that said you wouldn’t make it back. Thoughts that kept bouncing around, tormenting him the whole journey to the safe house. Luckily when you guys arrived, he was able to fully assess your wound and it didn’t look life threatening. No, all he had to do was clean, stich, and bandage it.

Simple enough, right? Wrong.

Of course, of course the best way to get the wound clean and ready for stitching was for your fucking pants to come off.

Things were never easy for Ghost.

His nerves didn’t stop him though and he somehow managed to get through everything without making a complete fool out of himself. Though, if you could somehow hear his heartbeat, at all, it would have been a dead giveaway, as it thumped erratically in his chest. There were moments when he was afraid it would burst.

Then, only to make this mission even worse, was him waking up to your blood curdling screams in the middle of the night. His first thought was that the enemy found you guys, and they got to you first. He thought that he failed to protect you, which was a silent promise he made to himself after the first night you guys drank beer in his room.

However, when he entered the living room, he saw that no one was in the room, it was just you on the couch where he left you. Your screams turned into cries, then sobs, then screams again. It was deafening and he couldn’t stand to hear it any longer. It took a few good shakes to wake you and he felt his heartstrings pinch in his chest when you apologized to him for waking him up, completely disregarding the trauma you were currently experiencing.

He decided right then and there that what you needed right now was not a work colleague, but a friend. He carried you to bed that night, hoping to provide you with some consolation, wanting to provide you with anything that would make you feel safe again. And before he even knew what he was doing, he found himself closing the distance between your lips, and he felt you kissing back. He may have added that to the list of things he felt grateful for.

--

It’s been a few weeks since then. Your leg is pretty much all healed, and you have full mobility. All thanks to Ghost’s handy work. Although you felt fine and ready to get back out there, Simon insisted that you continue to rest. He even managed to convince Price not to assign you to any missions for the next month, which thoroughly pissed you off.

Who was he to boss you around and tell you when you were ready or not to start working again? He was technically your direct supervisor, so he did have the power to boss you around, but still!

Even though you were slightly peeved at him, you knew that it came from a good place. He was just worried about you, and this was his way of showing it, well, in front of the team at least.

In private, he had other ways to show you how much he cared for you. After he learned about your nightmares, he insisted that you come to him whenever they occur. You were hesitant at first to take him up on his offer. What if he just said that to be nice and he just feels bad for me? You didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. Even though, you found yourself slowly start to cross more and more boundaries with him as the weeks went on.

So, the first night you experienced another nightmare, you found yourself in front of Simon’s door. You probably stood there for at least a minute, racking up the courage to knock. But before you could even do that, the door swung open to reveal a sleepy looking Simon decked out in black sweats and his signature balaclava.

Since he was so close to you, you had to crane your neck to look up at him and meet his eyes. Why he was still wearing his mask at this hour, you were unsure. He usually took it off to sleep, but you were too unmoored to ask.

“I heard your footsteps approach my door.” His gravelly voice fills the space in-between, and he casually leans on the door frame.

“Oh.” You looked down at your slippers and twiddle your thumbs.

“Why don’t you come in, yeah?” Simon’s voice lifts up a bit at the end of his question, and you look back up at him and offer him a small smile.

“I’d like that, thank you Simon.” It still felt weird on your tongue to call the Lieutenant by his first name, but your chest sparked each time you did so. He held out is hand and you fit your palm against his, and he leads you into his room, his thumb caressing your knuckles.

You and Simon talked for what felt like hours before you fell asleep, head on his shoulder and his hand rubbing your head.

It was a common occurrence after that, to visit Simon’s room at night whenever you woke up screaming in the dark of your own room. It felt like nothing could happen to you in your dreams, so as long as Simon’s arms were wrapped around you, almost like an anchor. Weighing you down, preventing you from drifting too far away.

But even with this new sense of security surrounding you, some nights when you fell asleep with Simon next to you, the nightmares would still creep into your mind. Though, Simon was right there to help bring you back.

If for some reason you both separated during the night and were sleeping apart, you’d reach out to him after waking, your hand patting the bed, searching for him.

“Simon?”

“I’m right here.” He’d then swiftly pull you back into him.

He’d rub your back. Up down, up down.

Wrap his arms around you. Squeeze.

Kiss your forehead. Smooth back your hair.

Whisper affirming words that reminded you that it’s all in your head, you’re safe in this reality, he’s here. No one is trying to harm you.

Other nights, you found yourselves simply enjoying each other’s company. You love to outline his forearm tattoos with your fingers and trace your hand up his arm to his broad shoulders, to his chest. You like to trail your hand across his abs and just love to explore his whole body with your hands.

He does the same, and his touch always feels so heavenly. Though his hands were calloused and rough, they were always extra gentle in handling you.

His hand brushes over the top of your thigh and his fingertips graze over the slightly raised bumps that span across your tender skin. Your once smooth legs, now marked permanently with light lines. You feel his hand pause after it initially goes over this area of your leg. And you know, that he knows.

Before you can say anything, and push him away, his warm hand comes back up to rest at the top of your thigh, and his thumb gently traces circles over the scarred area. He doesn’t say a word, but his touches mean everything to you, and it’s all you need.

You feel him squeeze his arms that are already wrapped around your form, and feel a slight pressure against the top of your head, like a kiss was laid upon your hair.

You feel your breathing start to slow, and before you know it, you’re drifting off to sleep, the steady rhythm of Simon’s heart calling out to you like a siren with a lullaby.

You started to feel a deep sense of familiarity within the four walls of Simon’s room, and you knew that it would always be a place of condolement for your aching self. Little did you know, that you provided just as much relief, if not more, to Simon as well. Although more rare than yours, Simon had bad days too.

--

Tonight was no different than any other; you and Simon are lying in bed together and you’re semi-on top of him, leg thrown over his waist, head on his shoulder, fingers mapping out his entire being.

“If you want to talk about it, you know that you can, right?” You absentmindedly trace your pointer finger across the span of his chest as you ask him this. Drawing small circles into the fabric of his black t-shirt.

To Simon, it felt like there were small sparks leaving your fingertips every time you touched him, causing his heart to ignite.

“I’m always here to listen.” You remind him one more time.

Simon just came back from a particularly brutal mission, one that he has told you very little about. They were gone for almost two weeks and all you were able to find out from Soap was that children were involved- a sensitive subject for Simon. You can only imagine what he went through during the mission, and now, what he’s dealing with in the aftermath. You’re trying not to push too much, but you want him to talk to you.

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know that. But you shouldn’t have to.”

You pause your ministrations and crane your neck to look up at him with a slight pout on your lips. This was always a struggle with him, he didn’t like to talk to you, let alone anyone when he was going through something. He would just put up a wall and it broke your heart. Sometimes you would get bits and pieces, but never the whole picture; it was always fuzzy to you.

You wanted him to feel safe enough that he could confide in you, vent to you, about whatever was on his mind, but you knew it wasn’t that easy and that these things take time. You’re patient with him, as he is with you. It’s the least you can owe him for all he’s done for you. This is his time to lament, not yours to be nosey. So, you just let him be.

He lets out a sigh and then moves you so you’re laying completely on top of him. He tries not to be too rough as his hands grab onto your waist to situate you further, and he tucks your head under his chin.

One arm wraps around your middle and the other comes up to hold the back of your head.

“I just want you to be here with me right now, like this. That’s all I need.” His breath tickles your hair and you succumb to his wish, relaxing against him.

“Ok, I can do that.” Your hands come up to wrap around his neck, and you pull him impossibly closer to you, no inch of yourself is left untouched by Simon.

He likes to put you in this position whenever he can’t find the right words to explain. He instead craves the comfort of physicality, liking the weight of you on top of him.

Your hand comes up to play with his hair at the nape of his neck. You found that his hair tends to curl a little at the end, initially not expecting his hair to be this long. Silly, you know, but you’re honored that you’re one of the few people that get to see him like this.

You don’t know how long you and Simon lay like this; time always seemed to bend and disappear when you were with him. Since you guys had been lying in silence for so long, his voice startles you when he speaks for the first time in what felt like hours.

His hand that was resting on your lower back is now softly stroking your spine in a steady up and down motion.

“I felt scared for the first time in a while, on the last mission.”

His admission surprises you, but you wait a beat to see if he’s going to say anything else before you respond.

You’re glad that you do, because he continues to speak in a hushed voice.

“I- I didn’t know how to help them and they were looking towards us to be saved. And yet, we couldn’t save all of them. Some were left behind.”

You feel your heart start to crack again, the beginnings of the break started forming the moment you saw Simon step out of the plane when he returned back to the base.

And now it feels as though a chisel is working its way through your chest, chipping off piece by piece as you listen to Simon morn the loss of little lives. Lives he couldn’t rescue. You know it’s eating him up on the inside, with no respite in sight.

You personally have never been on a mission where the victims were children, and you’re thankful for that, so you can only empathize as much as your experience allows you to. You just have to remind him that he does the best he can, and not everyone can be saved, no matter how much you want to help.

You shift a little so your head is no longer tucked under his chin, and instead rests more on his shoulder. Since you’re so close to him, your lips touch is jaw.

You sigh, “I’m really sorry you went through that, Simon. I know that nothing I can say will change the outcome of what happened, and it doesn’t really matter what I say, but I do want you to know that you and the team did all you could. You did your best with what circumstances you were given.”

You feel him stir under you, and his arms warp tighter around your frame.

“You’re wrong.”

You feel you the pieces of your heart break into smaller and smaller pieces, losing hope that they will ever fit back together.

“You’re wrong to think that your words don’t matter.” Oh. “They actually mean the most to me.” Your chest doesn’t feel like it’s going to concave anymore.

“I really appreciate you; you know that right, Little Swan?” You feel him kiss your forehead and your chest warms at his term of endearment.

“Of course I do, Simon.”

“Ok, good.”

You bring him in for a kiss.

--

Simon found that he didn’t have much in his life, let alone much to be grateful for. Yet over the years, he realized that he grew quite the list.

[snailvibes]

Evening chat I give you my list of some of my autistic Max Caulfield related headcanons except a lot ended up being pricefield related oops (does include spoilers)

Remember these are all HEADCANONS and me just being silly and having fun projecting on my fav lol

- that grey jacket she’s always wearing? That’s her comfort clothing item why do you think she’s still got it in double exposure

- even ever since she was really young Max has always been a picky eater bc of dealing with food textures and generally not liking a lot of things. Chloe always tried to make sure her mom bought things that Max liked so she could always have stuff to give her no matter what

- Max doesn’t really know how to like. Enter group discussions, it’s a lot easier for her to talk to people if it’s either one on one and with someone she’s familiar or comfortable with, she knows what she’s gonna say to someone before going in (like “I’m going to go up to Kate and check in on her” or “I’m going to go up to Brooke and ask about her drone”), or it’s someone talking to her and asking her questions, so when it’s people just generally chatting in a group she usually gets left out cus she doesn’t know how to jump in

- loud noises usually overstimulate her (vortex club party was hell) and growing up one of the more common times that occurred was when it stormed outside :) [which still held true throughout the game :))] post sacrifice Arcadia Bay ending she just kinda completely shut down in Chloe’s truck for a long while through a mix of it and the emotions from everything

- aside from Chloe, Kate was the first person Max found who actively listened to and engaged in her infodumping. During their first few tea hangout sessions she’d find herself accidentally going on about photography and stop herself, and every time Kate would encourage her to keep going cus she enjoyed hearing about it (ultimate Loves to yap + loves to listen duo)

- a lot of the time when Max shuts down she ends up going nonverbal for long periods of time and Chloe is the only one who can translate what she’s trying to communicate lmao. Everyone else, while they mean well, tend to just get confused so if she’s like with Kate or Warren when it happens they’ll just be like “shit time to track down Chloe”

- Chloe’s hair is one of her favorite things to mess with and play with cus she loves the sensation of running her hands through it, so when she’s overwhelmed Chloe will just take off her beanie and let Max run her hands through her hair for as long as she needs

- The Captain is her comfort plush which is why she brought him with her to Arcadia Bay. Usually she carries him around with her as much as she can but she didn’t wanna get made fun of for it at Blackwell so she started keeping him in her dorm. Post Sacrifice Arcadia Bay, she drags Chloe back to Blackwell before they leave so she can retrieve him from the rubble and starts carrying him with her everywhere again. Post Sacrifice Chloe she just starts carrying him with her everywhere at School without really worrying about what people will think, and everyone just doesn’t say anything cus they can tell she needs it.

- Max relies on music a LOT to block out the world when everything is too much. Chloe knows this and when she’s not using her earbuds to do it alone, will always offer to sit quietly and listen with her if she wants

- Warren Graham I know what you are /ref him and Max infodump about nerdy movies together almost every chance they get and sometimes they have to be pried apart in the halls to get them to go to class bc they will go on for hours if left alone to

- going back to that “Max struggles with conversation in groups” point, if said convos are happening in the photography classroom whether it’s a “class discuss this” moment or a group project, Kate will always try her best to get Max included in ways that work for her like asking for her thoughts or just pulling herself away from the group to chat with Max one on one

- girlie needs very specific instructions for things because otherwise she will overthink what to do and get confused and this has screwed her over with so many class assignments but I think she’d get help from Kate in that regard because she’s the only one she’s not anxious about asking if she knows what someone meant by something

[manias-wordcount]

Hi I wanted to say I adore your blog and a lot of your content. I was wondering if I could please get headcanons of Joker, Akechi, Mello, Denki, Kirishima and Link receiving a bouquet of flowers from their partner as an act of affection and gratitude towards them and how they’d react. Men deserve receiving flowers too! I’d love to see their reactions! Thank you ❤️

Giving Him Flowers HCs (Akira Kurusu, Goro Akechi, Mello, Denki Kaminari, Eijiro Kirishima)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗶 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝘀𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝘅 𝗶 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗲 𝗛𝗖. 𝗛𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝗶𝘁 𝗲𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝘆!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Akira Kurusu

He’s so charmed by you LMAO

Like it’s so cute and he’s really happy !!!

The second you hand him the flowers he’s wrapping his arms around you all tight and giving you like a thousand forehead kisses

Probably just holds you a long time too as if you’re about to leave him for a while (because you were totally not just  about to go upstairs to take a nap in his room while you wait for him to finish covering for Sojiro)

Since moving to Tokyo, he’s been able to develop a lot of good relationships with others so he has plenty of good people in his life

But you showing up with flowers for him so randomly really just made his feel so fuzzy and warm inside

(Especially because he was having a particularly hard day but hadn’t told you about it yet)

Chances are, the flowers stay down in Leblanc because the attic is too dirty and dark

But he doesn’t shy away to from telling everyone who exactly gave him those flowers

Because for him, it’s not the flowers themselves that make him feel happy- it’s the fact that it’s a simple, beautiful, and meaningful gift coming from you <3

Goro Akechi

He’s a little hesitant to accept at first

(He probably is with all forms of affection but that’s neither here nor there)

He admits he’s a bit surprised but pleased when you randomly bring him a bouquet and say you were thinking of him and wanted to surprise him

But he really didn’t think that flowers were something that men would get randomly from their S/o

But you know him all too well, so you’re able to ease him into the idea that he deserves gifts and surprises like random flowers because he’s a great boyfriend and everyone should receive flowers every now and then - even him

So he does end up accepting the flowers after getting just a tad bit emotional and raw with his feelings

Eventually, he ends up taking it to work with him after you suggested it might brighten up his office!

Of course, the flowers bring a lot of attention to him because ‘Whaaat?? What do you mean the teen detective is dating someone??? Since when??’

And of course, he has to start explaining bits and pieces of his relationship to his coworkers which he doesn’t love

But if he has to talk to these people about anything, he’s a bit glad it’s just bragging about you

Mello

Maaannnn Mello is such a huge asshole - imo nobody should get this bitch flowers smh

But chances are, your gift of flowers is either 

A) immediately getting knocked out of your hands or B) immediately getting tossed in the trash (IN FRONT OF YOU)

He’s probably a little smug about seeing your little quiver and you grow upset about what happened but he doesn’t do anything more than that except laugh along with his lil crew

It takes finally being alone for a little bit to reflect on how what he did being fucked up to you

So by the next day, the flowers are gone from where they were originally left, and in his bedroom with plenty of water and tons of light and flower food bc he feels so bad

And chances are, you have a bunch of your favorite candy or treats being delivered to your door because no way is he gonna apologize in person (mans got a reputation to uphold)

So a guy like Mello  doesn’t deserve flowers, but he definitely doesn’t deserve you either

But he knows better than to make a similar mistake in the future

 You are the only one who always believed he was number one at everything - even when no one else did 

Denki Kaminari

He’s probably weirded out at first because????

Because what guy gets flowers??? Girls get flowers lol, not tough guys like him 

But once you started telling him why you wanted to get him flowers and why you think it’s dumb that only girls get flowers because boys deserve to get pretty things and to feel special too he started smiling like a big idiot

You just seriously made him so so happy and feel so lucky that of all the people he tried his luck with, the one person he really wanted wanted him back lol

That said, giving him flowers (and no written instructions or reminders) was a bad idea lol

Probably because he doesn’t know what to do with them LMAO

Like totally forget to give them water until it’s almost too late

And then immediately almost overwaters them

But hey! He’s happy and he’s trying lol

And he’s always remember the fact that you did this for him <3

Eijiro Kirishima

Takes it like a king LMAO

Though it probably helps that you got him a bouquet that was similar to one Crimson Riot was awarded at a banquet one time

And that you added a couple of flowers that all had “manly” meanings

So he feels sooooo honored- especially since these flowers were sprung on him on the blue

Probably accidentally gives you a poke with one of his spikes when he comes in for a hug LOL

Either way, this moment was a big form of reassurance

Not just as your boyfriend, but as a hero and a person

Of course, you gave him endless compliments when you presented him with the flowers

But it just felt like proof that he was really improving and coming so far compared to the person that he used to be!

And proof of how much you love and adore him of course!

[seniaasaysstuff]

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐬🍒 || Yan! Nanami kento x reader.

a/n- this is my first time writing yandere nanami. It’s kind of yandere but not really yandere lmao. I don’t know if it was up to standards but anyways enjoy lol. Let me know your thoughts about it and I’m always up for constructive criticism.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

You were on your way to get something to eat with your coworker Nanami Kento.

He was a stoic man that never really showed how he felt except for the fact that he despised his job.

You kind of had a crush on him.

He was a beautiful creation of God.

The way his gaze trailed over your face,

The way his jaw clenched,

The way his hand flexed when he was frustrated, all of that made you feel things that you’ve never felt before.

You felt blessed to be in his presence.

You didn’t know how to act in front of the man.

You didn’t know if you wanted the man to choke you or to whisper sweet nothings to you. Actually you wanted both.

You were so mesmerized by him that you did not hear him call out your name.

He cleared his throat, startling you. You blushed.

You just got caught red-handed staring at your crush.

You knew he was way out of your league but still, you couldn’t stay away from him.

You awkwardly smiled and entered the diner.

You wanted to snuggle in his muscular arms. You felt a tad disappointed that he wasn’t your man. You quietly ate your food and left the diner stuck in your thoughts.

You were going to do it. Today was the day. You were going to ask him out.

You felt a bit scared because your past relationships didn’t end up well. All of them either disappeared or ghosted you.

You felt conflicted. What if he didn’t accept your confession? But you tried to cheer yourself up. So what if he didn’t accept your confession? You could live with that.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you ended up bumping into someone.

And speaking of the devil it was Kento.

You asked him if he could talk to you alone. He complied and followed you up to the terrace.

You stuttered. You took a deep breath as you gathered a small bit of courage and asked him out.

His face turned blank but returned to normal after a few seconds. He smiled at you.

For the first time in five years ever since you started working there he smiled at you.

Such a genuine smile that it made you want to drop to your knees to worship him.

You felt the tears starting to gather. He saw your teary face and enveloped you in a hug. He left a chaste kiss on your forehead. You felt as if you were on top of the world. He smiled at you, hugged you and even kissed your forehead.

This was the best day of your life.

What you didn’t know were the thoughts that he was having when he hugged you. He had been pining after you ever since you both met.

Your adorable smile,

your eyes that turned into little crescents when you smiled,

you tucking your hair behind your ears when you felt shy,

The red dusting your cheeks when he said something.

It was all his.

You were his.

He wanted to monopolize you. He wanted to fuck you silly until the only thing you remembered was him.

He had been successful in weeding out all the disgusting men that were trying to get close to his darling.

Those mere pests didn’t have the right. Only he had the right to see your smile, your laugh, your everything.

He smiled again.

He had finally gotten you.

[goosewriting]

Make me a caf

summary: Hux seemingly wants to keep you around after you fix his caf machine.

relationship: Armitage Hux x GN reader

warnings: (18+) making out, sexual tension

word count: 7.4k (this one got away from me... i blacked out and woke up to this. i have no other explanation lol)

A/N: 100% self indulgent. partially inspired by @wordborne’s fic Strictly Business, which is a story for inquisitor!Cal. i wonder what it is about redheads in black outfits that’s so appealing to me  lmao

prompt used: they are absolutely losing it, they pin you against the wall, hands on either side of your face, eyes looking down, they say through gritted teeth, "This isn't easy for me. I-I've never--You matter to me. And, You deserve way better than someone like me--" They're cut off when you pull their collar closer, shaking your head, somehow not fazed by his gaze that's ripping you bare. "I deserve you--everything of you, I want it." (source, by @urfriendlywriter)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

Life sure takes interesting turns sometimes. You started out as a mechanic on your home planet, then got drafted by the First Order to work on many projects, the latest being a new base on the planet Ilum, which was a very exclusive and secret project. So not only did you have to relocate for a long time while the base got built, but also in the little leave you got, you weren’t really allowed to talk to anyone.

But you decided a long time ago that’s an okay price to pay for an honestly more than decent pay. You also don’t have to pay for housing or food, you get your own quarters, all your equipment, and even a droid. So, not too shabby.

It’s been a while since you moved to Ilum now, and it’s a morning like any other. You’re the first to arrive at the workshop and your droid beeps at you, telling you that there’s a special request coming in asking for a mechanic. You ask your companion from where it comes and it projects a schematic of the base, with the room in question blinking.

You swallow hard as you realise that’s the part of the base where the captains and generals are housed. But the message was marked as urgent, and you’re the only one here right now, so you take your tools and nod to your droid to follow you.

It takes a while to navigate the labyrinth of hallways; it was pretty rare for the lower deck people to come to these parts. You have to look at your droid’s map a couple of times, but finally you make it to the right wing. Even the design of the walls is different here than it is in the other floors, it’s more sophisticated somehow.

You arrive at the room number indicated on the message and read the name on the plaque next to the door: it’s General Hux’s room. Great.

Luckily you didn’t have to deal with him personally, ever really, but you did hear the rumours, and they weren’t all too… nice. Sure, talks about Kylo Ren and his anger issues sounded worse in a way, but at least he lashed out from time to time. Hux donned you as the kind of person to be so emotionally constipated that he probably didn’t remember how to express anything else on his face except for contempt. In fact you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen the man smile.

Taking a deep breath, you knock on the door, and you’re startled as it opens almost immediately. In front of you towers none other than the General himself, sans his coat, eyeing you and your droid up and down.

“You’re late,” is all he says as he turns on his heel, and you follow him silently, deciding there’s no point in arguing to him about how he summoned you to basically the other side of the base out of the blue. 

You try not to stare too much, but you can’t help taking in his room: it’s spacious, clean and tidy. There’s a main room with a couch, a chair and a caf table, and a small kitchen to the side with a breakfast nook attached to it. An open door leads to a space you can’t see, but you assume it’s a hallway to the bedroom and refresher. For a whole organisation that seems to love their sleek designs in black and red, his quarters sure are light, which in turn makes them seem bigger. The wall in the far back of the living room has a huge window reaching almost from floor to ceiling, letting in plenty of natural light, reflected on the planet’s snowy landscape.

When Hux clears his throat, you rip your eyes off the place and bring them back to him, where he stands in the kitchen with his arms crossed.

“The caf machine is broken,” is all he says, then moves past you in a way that only entitled people do, where they expect the other to move out of their way, and takes a seat on the couch, reading through his datapad.

“Right,” you say through gritted teeth, thinking back to all your diplomas and licences to repair heavy machinery, artillery, spaceships, yet here you are, fixing a caf machine. 

With a sigh you approach the device and get to work. You find the problem quickly, and luckily it’s an easy fix. You stretch out your arm to your droid, asking for a tool which is handed to you with a happy beep, and finish the repair within minutes. 

“All done, Sir,” you call to Hux.

“Test it to make sure,” he orders without looking up.

“...Sir?”

He sighs.

“Make me a caf,” he clarifies. His tone isn’t particularly condescending or mocking though, it’s just flat. 

“Uhm, yes, Sir,” you respond, turn to the machine and all its buttons, then back to him. “How would you like your caf, Sir?”

“Surprise me,” he answers and goes back to scrolling through his datapad. 

You blink a couple of times, turning back to the device. This is one of those higher end machines, you’ve never really operated one. And you don’t even know where he keeps his stuff.

As if he could read your mind at your lack of movement, he says, “Caf is in the pantry, mugs are in the cupboard above.”

You open said cupboard, finding a collection of plain, black mugs, as well as an electric grinder. In the pantry you see not just an overwhelming amount of different caf beans types, but also a whole barista set, with the little press and the whisky thing. You have never used any of these; all you know is that these sets are rather expensive. And this man apparently knows his caf, so why would he ask a random mechanic to prepare it for him?

Wondering how it is you come into ridiculous situations like this alarmingly often, you get to work, grinding the beans (you didn't know a grinder could be this silent), placing everything in the machine and starting it up. In the pantry you also find some other spices and creamer, but you reckon Hux is the kind of man to take his caf black, so you don’t put in any of the latter. Instead you add a little bit of… you don’t even know what kind of spice it is, as the little jar is unlabeled, but it smells good. 

“All done, Sir,” you say as you walk up to him with the steaming mug.

He gestures to the caf table in front of him with his chin, and you’re about to place the mug down, but then see a little basket with coasters donning the First Order symbol. You pick one up and slide it under the mug.

“You can see yourself out,” is all Hux says, without looking at the mug or you.

You hesitate for a moment, not expecting to just be sent off like that. Wasn’t he even gonna try it? Wait… Why were you even waiting for a response? It’s not like you cared.

“Yes, Sir,” you bow lightly and turn on your heels, calling your droid and leaving.

On the whole walk back to your workshop, you wonder what the kriff just happened, and hope that you won’t have to deal with the General for a long time. He’s so weird.

The universe seems to be against you though, because it is only the next day when you arrive at the workshop, but this time you’re not alone. You’re the first mechanic, as for the next couple of rotations you have the early shift, but there’s a Stormtrooper waiting; that can’t mean anything good. 

“Good morning, Trooper,” you greet them with a smile as you approach them. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Grab your tools and follow me,” the modulated voice orders. You pack your little bag while the Trooper just stares, then tell your droid to come, but they lift a hand.

“Leave the droid.”

You couldn’t be more confused, but you comply, telling your droid to stay. It beeps sadly and slowly rolls back around your table, where it will probably stay and wait for you to come back. You feel a little bad, but there’s nothing you can do.

The Trooper doesn’t say anything else as you follow them through the pristine halls, your steps echoing off the walls. Every now and then you have to jog a little to catch up with their hasty pace. Soon enough the route seems oddly familiar and you feel like you’re having a déjà-vu. 

“Where are we going again?” you ask, even though you haven’t been told yet where the Trooper is taking you.

“General Hux called for you,” they explain.

Okay, now you are confused. You fixed his caf machine, even made him a fresh cup of it. What could he possibly still want? 

The rest of the way to the General’s room is silent again, and once you arrive at the door, the Trooper knocks twice, then stands guard next to it. Again, the door opens comically quickly, as if Hux had been behind it waiting the whole time. The thought makes you smile to yourself, and you try to suppress it the best you can.

“Ah, good, you found the mechanic,” Hux says, nodding to the Trooper, who nods back and leaves the way you came from. 

“What can I do for you today, Sir?” you ask as you find yourself walking into his quarters again. 

This time he has you following him through the hallway to the refresher, where he points at a flickering light.

“Fix it,” he orders and leaves.

Is this some sort of twisted game where he would have you do menial tasks every day? Is the First Order targeting you? Just what in the world is going on, you think, dropping your bag of tools onto the floor with more force than necessary. I have more urgent work to do.

Heaving a silent sigh, you inspect the light. Just as you thought, all it needed was to be screwed in tighter into its socket, and the flickering stopped. 

Picking up your bag from the floor, you walk into the hallway. The door to his room is open and you steal a tiny peek inside. His bed is huge! Sure must be comfy…

“All done, Sir,” you report as you come to stand beside him. 

“Excellent. Now,” he says as he leaves his datapad on the couch and stands up, taking a step towards you, towering over you. Instinctively you take a step back, and the tiniest of smiles appears on his freckled face. Huh, you hadn’t noticed before that he has freckles. 

“Make me a caf,” he orders.

“Sir,” you start, averting your gaze from his piercing one. “With all due respect, you have a functioning caf machine right there. I don’t see why my presence is needed.” 

He narrows his eyes at you. 

“How did you prepare the caf yesterday?” he asks.

Oh Maker, he probably hated it, you think as you tighten your grip on the strap of your bag.

“Uhm, I…” you hate yourself for stumbling over your words. You bet he’s getting a kick out of this. “Was it not to your liking Sir? If so, I apologise–”

“That was the best damn caf I’ve had in a long time,” he interrupts you, and you can only look up at him in surprise. “How did you prepare it?”

“I made a… I think it’s called a blend?” you try your darndest to remember just what you did yesterday when you experimented with the ingredients in the pantry. “I used beans from two different packs. They seemed like they would go well together… Sir.”

Why did you even do that? You have no idea. You’re also pretty sure you added one of the spices. 

“Interesting,” Hux remarks, leaning back to stand at his full height. You didn’t even notice he was leaning in so close to you. 

You kinda just stand in place, waiting for further instructions, while his eyes seem to burn through your very soul, his face unreadable. 

“Then, surprise me again, mechanic,” he orders, and walks back to the couch. 

You gulp for what you’re about to say, but you don’t like how he calls you ‘mechanic’ like it’s a derogatory term. 

“Actually, Sir, it’s…” you say and pause, waiting for him to turn to you, and then you tell him your name.

He repeats it, as if testing out how it sounds, and you reprimand yourself internally for the beat your heart just skipped when you heard him say it. 

Hux turns his attention back to the datapad, and you quickly make your way into the kitchen, leaving your bag on one of the stools. 

Once more you find yourself in front of the pantry, and you get to work. You sniff the different caf packets, trying to understand anything from the colourfully worded descriptions on the back. With a shrug, you just follow your nose like you did last time, and grind up two different kinds of beans, this time without any spices, and let the machine do the rest. 

Once it’s ready, you bring it to the caf table, where a coaster is already waiting this time. You place down the mug and bring your hands behind your back, waiting to be dismissed.

But instead, Hux takes the mug into his hand, blowing softly on it, and takes a sip. All without breaking eye contact with you. He waits a couple of seconds and hums. You hope that’s a good thing. 

“Interesting choice,” he remarks, looking into the dark liquid reflecting the room’s lights in ripples. “You’re dismissed.”

“Sir,” you excuse yourself with the same bow as yesterday, grab your bag, and leave his quarters. 

You take a quick look at the time on your datapad and curse under your breath as you’re gonna be late for the second rotation in a row, and speed up your pace.

This whole spiel goes on for almost two weeks: Hux sends someone to retrieve you from the workshop early in the morning, has you do some menial task as an excuse for calling you, then orders you to make him caf. The feedback you get for your results is sparse at best, usually only one or two words. But you did notice that he has a preference for one type of blend mixed with a certain spice. You even went as far as looking up more things to spice caf up with on the holonet, trying to apply it to the ingredients in his pantry.

The more time you spend in his room, the more he opens up little by little as well. At first you’d work in silence. Then he’d sit on the stools by the kitchen instead of the couch, doing some work. Then he’d put down the datapad to watch you work, and it even came as far as doing smalltalk. Once he even asked you for your input regarding a technical matter in his work, where you caught a glimpse of some schematics of something huge. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you curious to know what he was working on. 

As ridiculous as this whole situation was, not only did you find yourself looking forward to seeing a Trooper every morning, but you made it your goal to make a caf that would blow Hux’s socks right off.

It’s shortly after the two week mark of this whole thing that you’re on your way to the workshop, expecting to see a Trooper to pick you up, but the place is actually empty, save for your co-worker who’s on the early shift. You greet your droid, who beeps happily at your arrival, and you look around.

“Did anyone come by, buddy?” you ask, and get a negative beep-boop. 

When you ask the other mechanic, she also says it’s been just her until now.

Huh, weird. No, wait, hold on a minute – why are you even expecting to get summoned in the first place? You can finally catch up on all the work you’re behind on because of the little “caf-scapades”, as you’ve been calling them. 

“Alright, let’s get to work,” you tell your droid and pat it a couple of times. “There’s a lot to do.”

The nagging feeling that something is wrong doesn’t leave you though, in fact, the more time passes, the stronger it seems to get. By the end of your shift, you wonder if you should pay the General a visit out of your own volition. But you decide against it, after all he could be on a mission somewhere, or maybe he was busy today. Either way, it’s none of your business. 

You wrap up for the day and finish cleaning your workstation, get your dinner, and not long after, find yourself getting ready for bed. After a quick shower, you change into a tank top and shorts, your go-to sleepwear. You’re glad that despite the harsh outside conditions, the living quarters are well heated.

Just as you’re lifting the blanket to get into your bed, you hear your datapad beep twice: a message. You wonder who it could be this late at night.

With a sigh, you make your way to the table and pick up the device, squinting at the light in your already dark room. You almost drop it to the floor when you see the message: “Come now. Alone.” It’s from an unknown sender, but marked as urgent: it’s gotta be from Hux. You glance at the time and roll your eyes. Of course he would have you on a regular trip to his room every morning for half a month, then suddenly stop, only to call you to his room in the middle of the night. Just what is this guy’s deal?!

You look down at yourself and sigh. This isn’t how you want the General to see you, at least not right now. Not yet. Perhaps. 

You don’t really own any civilian clothes, as you’re always in the base. The only non overall kind of clothing you have is a First Order uniform, but that one is only ever really used for official events or gatherings. Plus it’s rather stiff. 

All your coveralls are currently either covered in grease and/or smell of engine oil. Besides, you don’t wanna wear those over your PJs. So you grab the next best option, which is the summer version of the coveralls you almost never use because they have short sleeves, and it’s mandatory to wear long sleeves and gloves in most of the hangars and workshops. They’re clean at least, so you quickly jump into them, not even bothering to zip it up all the way, slip into your boots and head out. 

Walking down the hallways to the military wing of the base at this time of night is strange; for some reason there’s more Troopers and people out and about than in the early mornings. They give you a strange side-eye when walking past you, but no one seems to question your presence at least.

When you finally make it to Hux’s room, you lift your hand to knock, but hesitate.

Why would he call you out here at this hour anyways? On one side you expect him to tell you that he’s grown tired and bored of you. On the other side you know he wouldn’t do that, not like this at least. 

All day, ever since not being picked up by a Trooper, you’ve been plagued by this little voice in your head. A nagging feeling that was disguised as a strange curiosity to know where the caf-scapades would bring you two in terms of getting to know each other, yet you knew that beneath it was genuine worry for the General. He doesn’t contact you all day, then suddenly messages you (which means he went out of his way to get your contact information, since you hadn’t given it to him), and here you are, running to him the second he calls you. 

You grimace at the thought, or rather the realisation, that you actually came to… like the General. 

He has a weird sense of humour, and isn’t good at expressing how he feels. But if you look closely enough, you can recognise the subtle changes in his face that give away his thoughts. You can’t deny that he is very handsome, but you’re also aware that he can be a dangerous man. You’ve heard enough stories of what he and Ren have done and are capable of. And yet… There's something about his presence, like he’s surrounded by this air full of purpose and confidence, that you can’t help being pulled towards him. 

So yeah, you’re intrigued by him. And you want to see more. 

Taking a deep breath, you knock on the door in the pattern you usually do.

But the door stays closed. 

Suddenly it dawns on you that you didn’t actually know for sure who sent the message. What if it wasn’t Hux, and something happened to him? What if he was hurt and this was all a trap?

You hold your breath, tilting your ear towards the door, trying to hear if there’s anyone at all in there, when you suddenly hear a groan from the other side.

You’re about to call out to Hux but stop yourself. You’re sure it was a groan right, and not a… moan? You feel heat rising to your cheeks at the thought. 

Shaking away the images threatening to flood your brain, you knock again. You really hope you’re not interrupting anything.

This time the groan is louder, clearly pained, and it’s calling your name. 

“Sir?” you ask, now definitely worried for his well-being, all other theories thrown out the window. 

Suddenly, the door whooshes open, but there’s no one in front of it. Instead, you see the remote aimed at the entrance (so that’s how he opened the door so quickly), held by a Hux who’s half hanging from the couch onto the floor.

“General!” you call, close the door behind you and rush to his side.

Hux is only wearing his trousers; his shirt, jacket and belt are strewn on the floor. He probably was trying to get dressed or change, but collapsed. You grab his arms to pull him up, and you get to sit him down properly on the couch. His face is flushed all the way down to his neck, clearly running a fever. Your hand shoots up to touch his forehead and he’s burning. He weakly swats your hand away and winces in pain, his eyes shut tightly, and you feel your own gaze travelling down his jaw to his collarbones, to all the freckles covering his shoulders and pecs.

Forcing yourself to tear away your eyes, you shake his shoulder lightly. 

“Sir, you need to go to bed and rest,” you tell him.

“I- I was… trying,” he huffs between heavy breaths, his eyes meeting your own in what you guess was meant to be a glare, but they lack their usual intensity. 

“Lean onto me,” you instruct, pulling him up by an arm and throwing it over your shoulder. You feel how he’s fighting to slump all of his weight on you, and get moving. 

It takes a while and Hux almost falls to the floor twice, but you make it to his room, where he lets himself fall onto the bed. You rush to the refresher, where you remember seeing a first aid kit, and bring it back to the room. You help him take off his boots and lift the blanket for him to climb into the bed, tucking him in once he’s settled. Then you sit down on the edge of the bed and start unpacking the kit. A cold patch goes to his forehead and you take his temperature, which is way too high.

“I’m gonna give you a stim, okay?” you warn him as you take it out of the kit, pulling the blanket down a little so you can apply it. You stick it below his collarbone in a quick motion, and he hisses.

“There, there,” you coo and can’t help but smile. He grunts as he places his forearm over his face, and you pull the blanket back up properly.

After packing everything into the kit and putting it to the side, you go to the kitchen to get a cup of water. Back in the room, you hand Hux some pills and the cup, and he downs it all without even asking what it is and with no snarky remark, which makes you feel even worse for him; the fever must be really bad.

You’re still sitting at his side, taking in his state and wondering what else you can do, when a question pops into your head.

“Why did you call me, General?” you ask him, and he peeks at you from under his arm. “Shouldn’t you have gotten a nurse or a medical droid?”

“Didn’t get my caf today,” he rasps. 

“Oh, so it’s my fault you came down with a fever?” you retort playfully. He nods, and you can’t help but laugh a little. 

“So now I gotta make up for my mistake?” you add, and he nods again. You exhale through your nose with a smile. “Well, General, I did all I can do for you. I’m gonna go get a medical droid–”

But before you can stand up, his hand shoots up to grab your wrist, yanking you back down. 

“Armitage,” he whispers, blinking a couple of times, trying to focus his eyes on you.

“Sir–” is all you get out, trying to loosen his grip on your wrist.

“Call me Armitage,” he repeats, louder this time, eyes suddenly full of an intensity you didn’t know he had left in his state.

“Sir, I can’t– You’re–” you whimper in pain as his grip tightens around you even more. “You’re hurting me, Armitage.”

Hux looks up at you a moment longer, then down at his hand, and suddenly lets go, as if he only now realised what he was doing.

“I– I didn’t mean to…” he mumbles as his hand hesitantly reaches up to your wrist again, but much gentler this time. His fingers ghost over the irritated skin, taking your hand in his larger one, and bringing it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles.

“Stay the night,” he orders, and you feel like your heart, brain, lungs – everything just stops working altogether. 

“Gener–” you start but his brows furrow in a warning glare, so you correct yourself. “Armitage, I really shouldn’t. I can’t.”

Not when you’re like this, at least, you add in your mind.

“I won’t do anything, I promise,” he assures you, his face softening, but eyes still as intense. “Just stay by my side.”

Your eyes fall to your hand still in his, and you feel him give you a squeeze. After a moment, you return it. You’re aware that this can end in one of two ways: it’s either the start of something very interesting, or the end of your career as you know it. Are you really about to risk it all for some fun? 

“Okay,” you finally give in, and he sighs in relief.

Hux pats the space next to him in his enormous bed, and you walk over to the other side of it, lying down on top of the blanket. He holds your hand again and closes his eyes, starting to drift off. 

– – – – –

The next morning, Hux wakes up to a dull pang of pain behind his eyes. He squints as he takes in his surroundings. When did he get to bed? Did he forget to close the blinds last night? Sitting up in the bed, he sees the patch from his forehead fall into his lap. Did he get that himself from the refresher? Why can’t he remember anything from last night? 

He throws his legs over the edge of the bed, seeing that he’s still wearing his uniform’s trousers. On the nightstand is a glass of water and some pills which he assumes to be aspirin. He downs it, drinking the whole thing. Why is he so thirsty? 

His eyes travel over the bed when he realises that not only is the other side ruffled, as if someone had slept there, but there’s some mechanic’s overalls neatly folded at the end of the bed too. He freezes, racking his brain for any events of the night prior, but it’s all a blur.

Suddenly he hears some clinking sounds from the kitchen. Sniffing the air he also smells food. Just as he’s about to get up to investigate, you come walking through the door, and his heart skips several beats. You’re only wearing a tank top and shorts, showing much more skin than he’d ever seen from you, and he immediately decides that he likes what he sees. 

“Oh, you’re up,” you say, coming to a halt just as you pass the door, suddenly very self-conscious of how his eyes are essentially eating you up. “I made breakfast, and caf. Are you feeling any better?”

He doesn’t answer, instead looking down at the floor. You being here, dressed like this, does that mean that last night you two…? And if so, why couldn’t he remember any of it?! 

Given his lack of response, you walk around the bed and stand in front of Hux, looking at him with worry.

“Hey, are you okay?” you ask, your hand coming up to his forehead. You sigh in relief when you notice his fever is almost gone, but you don’t miss how he tenses up at your touch. So if he’s back to normal again… “A-Armitage?”

Hux straightens up suddenly at the use of his name, and looks at you with a ferocity you hadn’t seen before. You instinctively take a step back, and immediately regret it when you see the hurt cross his face for a split second. Hux’s eyes fall and go to your hand which had just been on his forehead moments ago. A scowl spreads on his face as he carefully takes your wrist and brings it up to his face to inspect the bruising that spreads from the back of your hand to almost the middle of your forearm.

“Who did this to you?” he asks through gritted teeth, clearly upset. 

“You did,” you answer, and he looks up at you in disbelief. “You don’t… remember anything from last night?”

“I don’t,” he groans, and when he looks back up at you, his ears burn in the cutest shade of pink. “Since I don’t remember, I have to ask… Did we… last night?”

Your cheeks get set ablaze as you shake your head, biting your lip. When he sighs in relief, you feel your heart sink momentarily, but it resumes its erratic beating with his next words. 

“I’d hate myself if something happened and I didn’t remember it the next day,” he’s quick to clarify, still not letting go of your hand. “And about this… I’m sorry.”

You don’t think that apologies are something that comes easy to Hux, so you know you should just take it as such and shut up, but you can’t help your blabbering, trying to make him feel better for some reason.

“Don’t worry about it, I bruise easily,” you say with a sheepish smile. “Besides, I’ve had worse. I’ll survive.”

“Worse?” Hux asks, concerned for you and at the same time enraged at the thought of someone else hurting you. 

“Yeah, look at this,” you reply, removing your hand from his to lift your shirt up a little, while the other pulls down the hem of your shorts ever so slightly, to show him a scar that goes from above your hip bone up and around your ribcage. “This one I got from when an engine fell on me.” 

So you meant work accidents and not someone else laying a hand on you. Hux feels the earlier rage dissipate as he takes in your scar, and the way you so easily bared yourself to him. 

Being pulled towards him by your hips, you watch in complete shock when Hux places the softest of kisses on your scar, then traces it with his fingers. He’s so close, you wonder if he can hear your heart pounding against your ribcage.

“Shall we get breakfast then?” he asks, suddenly very matter-of-factly, and stands up. “Wouldn’t want the caf to get cold after all.”

Hux walks past you to the wardrobe, getting out of your sight as he stands behind the open door. You take a moment to control your breathing and imagination, then walk towards the kitchen. 

When he joins you on the stools, you notice he changed into more comfortable clothes, and you pass him his mug and a plate of eggs and bacon.

“I can also make some porridge if you think you’d stomach that better?” you offer.

“This is perfect,” he retorts, and starts eating. 

You prop your hand on your elbow for a second, just taking in this moment which seems… strangely domestic. And peaceful. It feels like something you could get used to.

Snapping back to reality, you check the time on the microwave, and scramble to your feet.

“Ah, kriff! I’m so late!” you start running back and forth, gathering your things. You quickly slip into your overalls and jump into your boots without even tying them up. You appear once more next to Hux, who’s still calmly enjoying his breakfast.

“You better take the day off. I don’t want to see you around, you hear me?” you tell him, pointing at him with a scolding finger. “Drink plenty of water and stay in bed, okay? Message me if anything comes up.” 

Before you realise what you’re doing, you place a quick kiss to his cheek, say your goodbyes and dash out the door, leaving a very perplexed Hux in the kitchen.

It’s only as you’re rushing down the halls that you realise not only what you’ve done but also how this must look to the passers-by: someone getting out of a high ranking officer’s room with rather dishevelled hair, not having even put on your clothes properly. You swallow your pride though, ignoring all the looks you get, and run as fast as you can to your room to get changed. 

When you finally make it to the workshop, it’s no surprise to see your supervisor there, and he’s fuming. You try to sneak by to your workstation somehow, but he sees you and calls you over to his office, where he gives you an earful about impunctuality and responsibility and yadda yadda yadda. Then he goes on about how highly irregular this behaviour is from you since you’ve always been a diligent worker, and you better think twice before not appearing for work next time. 

You bite your tongue and let it all pass over you. As long as you finish your work within the deadline, there’s no real risk here. 

When your boss finally lets you go, you rush to your droid and get to work immediately. The next couple of rotations you’re immersed in your job, taking shift after shift to catch up on everything you still have to get done. In all this time, there’s no messages from Hux, and you’re glad, because you would probably say things to him that you’d regret later if you saw him right now. Getting so behind schedule in the first place is kind of his fault. Sure, you never told him that you were losing precious hours of work, but you didn’t think it’d get this far. That you would come to enjoy his company and hope he enjoyed yours, to the point where he had asked you to spend the night. 

So, right now, you don’t want to see him, not until after the deadline. But the universe has other plans for you yet again, as it is the day before it that you see Hux again. 

You had told him he should message you. He could have gone and sent a Trooper for you like last time. But no, what does this guy do? Comes to get you personally.

If it wasn’t for your droid, you wouldn’t even have seen him coming because you’re currently head-first inside a cockpit, trying to reach some cables. But its beeps alert you, and you spring up so hastily that you hit your head on the dashboard.

With a hiss and rubbing over the spot you just hit, you get out of the ship, where Hux and two of his Troopers are waiting. 

“General Hux,” you greet with a polite smile, “What can I do for you?”

“Come with me,” he orders, and for a moment you look at him in disbelief. 

Just what is he getting at now? No greeting, no nothing? Just ordering you around again, in front of your crew? Making you lose even more hours of work? Oh, two can play that game.

“No,” you retort after a scoff.

He comes to a halt and turns around slowly, his eyes narrowed at you in a warning glare. 

“I beg your pardon?” he asks, his whole body language telling you to measure your next words very carefully, but instead, you slightly lift your chin in a defiant gesture. 

“Then beg.” 

Hux curls his fists at his side, and the Troopers lift their blasters to aim at you, but he lifts one hand, and they lower their weapons, but not without giving each other a look behind the General. 

At this point the whole workshop is so silent, you’re sure you’d be able to hear a needle drop onto the metallic floor. Even the TIE fighters in the hangars around you seem to roar more silently. 

“I am the General in charge of this base and you will listen to me!” he suddenly yells, and you avert your eyes. You can’t believe he just pulled rank on you. 

Letting the tool you were holding fall into the toolbox with a clank, you walk up to him, still not looking him in the eyes.

He slightly shakes his head at you, then turns on his heels and heads for the hallway, with you in tow and the Troopers at the end. 

Hux takes a different route than expected; instead of taking you to his quarters, which are pretty far away, he heads to the office wing, finding an empty conference room and getting in. He slams the button on the panel for the blinds, and the inner windows dividing the room and the hallway go dark. 

“No interruptions,” he instructs the Troopers through gritted teeth, then closes the door. 

You find yourself in the rather dark room now, alone, with a seemingly very angry General. He suddenly turns around and takes quick steps towards you, pushing you back against the conference table and trapping you between his arms.

“Don’t you dare defy me like that again in front of the others,” he threatens you. 

“Defy you?” you say with a wry smile, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “You don’t get to order me around like your Stormtroopers. You can ask nicely, you know? Or just, I don’t know, like a normal person?” 

He groans, slamming his fist onto the table, which startles you. You don’t like this attitude at all, so you push him back and take a step to the side.

“General– No, Armitage,” you try softening him up by using his name, and it seems to be working. “What even are we?”

He starts walking towards you again, slowly backing you up against the wall this time. 

“If this is just a game to you, then–” you start, your hands on his chest in an attempt to push him off, but you don’t actually put any strength into it because you know what you actually want. So you let yourself be pushed further, your heart pounding with every step backwards you take. “Then let’s just stop right here. But if you’re serious about this, you need to tell me, please…”

By now, Hux is absolutely losing it, and he finally pins you against the wall, hands on either side of your face, eyes looking down into yours.

"This isn't easy for me,” he says through gritted teeth. “I– I've never– You matter to me. And, maybe you deserve better than someone like me–"

He’s cut off when you pull him closer by the collar, shaking your head, somehow not fazed by his gaze that's ripping you bare.

"I deserve you– everything of you, I want it,” you breathe. 

With that, Hux’s last thread of self-control snaps, and he presses his body against yours, smashing his lips on yours. The kiss is heated, sloppy and messy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Finally you’re able to show just how much you’ve been longing for each other. 

The General slips his hands under your thighs, pulling you up against the wall. You gasp in surprise and he uses that to press his tongue against yours. You hook your ankles behind him, both your hands roaming each other in desperation. 

When you finally break for air, you’re panting, but Hux attacks your neck next, and he’s relentless. He spends what feels like an eternity and yet nowhere near enough kissing, biting, licking every inch of your skin he can reach. You’re sure the grip of his hands on your legs will leave bruises again, but this time you find yourself looking forward to them. 

Once Hux seems satisfied, he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his shoulders rising and falling quickly with his ragged breathing. 

“When you showed me that scar,” he whispers against your skin. “I thought I was gonna take you then and there.”

He leans his head back only enough to look at you, and the intensity of his eyes sends a shudder to your very bones.

“I’ll map every inch of your skin, every scar, mole and freckle, and mark it up. I want all of you,” he growls, and you’re not sure if it’s supposed to be a threat or a promise; you’re just glad that he’s holding you in place because your knees have long since given out.

You cup his face, and bring him in for another kiss. This time it’s much slower, gentler, but just as deep. 

“I’d like that,” you breathe into his lips, and he smiles. 

When he finally lets you down, you have to hold onto Hux because of how wobbly your legs are. 

“You good?” he asks, his hands on the underside of your arms to hold you.

“Yeah,” you reassure him, and have to choke back a laugh when you look up at him.

“What?” he questions with an amused little smile. 

“Come here, lemme fix your hair. You’re quite a mess,” you say, and he leans down so you can smooth out his hair as best as you can. 

“Well, you should see yourself,” he chuckles as he returns the favour.

Once you’re both more or less presentable, you walk to the door. Before Hux opens it though, he takes your hand one last time in his and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

“See you tonight?” he asks, hopeful.

“Can’t wait,” you say with a wink.

– – – – –

Bonus:

When you make it back to your table in the workshop with a dreamy look on your face, your co-worker brings her hand to her mouth with a gasp.

“What?” you ask her, looking around in surprise, trying to find the source of her horror.

“Really? The General?!” she whisper-shouts, gesturing to you to follow her.

She guides you to the little supply closet at the end of the workshop and rummages in a box for a clean rag.

“What do you mean? Was it so obvious?” you ask, your cheeks still ablaze from before.

“Obvious?” she repeats rhetorically, handing you the rag and a little pocket mirror. “Honey, you can see those hickeys all the way from Coruscant.”

“Wait, what?” you blurt out and look into the mirror. Sure enough, the General made sure you won’t be able to walk around the base without a turtleneck for several rotations. He went absolutely ham.

“Gha!” you shriek, tying the rag around your neck like a scarf. “I’m gonna kill him!”

[r0semultiverse]

Mr. 6 made you do a good show to be released?? 👀 um....

This is already giving serious eye vibes.

A whole show dedicated to public humiliation?

The Mr. Bonzo suit started moving??? 👀 Serious stranger vibes. 🤡

"It actually became a sort of ritual"

I've seen people being like "don't cross tag" but buddy... the writing cross tags itself here I mean c'mon! 😂 Something something ritual of the stranger- okay, I'll keep listening!

Hey, what's with the music?? Hey, who is Terrance Menki???👀

"The police said there were eleven bodies in total and his wardrobe was full of all sorts of homemade costumes." BRO IS ACTUALLY MAGNUSPOD WILLIAM AFTON-

"It certainly had a profound effect on the Mr. Bonzo brand." Oh I'm sure it did, holy fucking shit. 👀

Oh, me using this image is rather ironic now.

"In a lot of ways I’m more his prisoner now than I ever was on my show." WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT? 👀

"The witness statements from three murders over the last five years that claim a person in a Mr. Bonzo costume was at the scene? Do you think there could be a copycat?" Has the fear of clowns manifested as an actual clown-guything?

"Don’t contact us again." "Us?" "Why am I still trapped dealing with all this this- Why won’t he let me go?! Why-" So Mr. Bonzo is absolutely a clown cryptid of sorts with some sort of hold over Nigel.

Oh no, Gwen's about to fuck around & find out, isn't she? 👀

Hey, is Colin still himself & is he supposed to be back?

Hmm, okay, I guess that's him (hopefully).

"Maybe don’t tell them I’ve been on their terminals. They’ll only get the wrong idea." "If Lena asks, I wasn’t here." Seems like everyone's got their own little secret investigations going on, fun! This can only go well! 🙃

One of the episodes absolutely no one shows up to work except Lena is there & is like "where the fuck did everyone go?"

"Time to get some new hires again I guess."

Let's go!! Ruin exploration gang!!

"Like, it’s Saturday night and I’m choosing to hang out in a hole with you. A wet hole. And not the good kind either."

Alice with the absolute best quotes. lmao

That sounds like something with giant wings like a bat or some sort of cloth flapping in the wind. Let's hope it's the latter!

Oh a rusty old filing cabinet! Wait tetanus- 😭

"That carved floor in the big atrium – I don’t know what’s going on with that." Ah so we're just gonna breeze past that then. 😶

These are probably the remnants of old avatar creation test areas like mentioned in the Gerry & Gertrude episode. I'm just assuming here.

A key? Big find! Let's go!

AS I WAS SAYING-

Gwen, it was nice knowing you. 🫡

"Now get out of his house."

Archivist! 👁👄👁

"symbols of ancient otherworldly power"

Wait could this be a timeline where this universe's Jane Prentiss actually did manage to invade the building & succeed? I'm thinking out loud.

21:10 that sounds like critters, insects specifically 👀

"I have memories of weird stuff I saw here, but no context. I want to know what was happening, why they chose us… why they didn’t choose me. Maybe find the bit where everything started to go wrong." I am so captivated & intrigued please recount said memories to us- I mean Alice so we can learn more. Please. 👀

EXCUSE ME, WHO THE FUCK WAS THAT?!? WHO IS "[ERROR]?"

WHY DO THEY SOUND DISTORTED AS FUCK?? ARE THEY FROM THE PRIME TIMELINE OR IS THIS A NEW THING?

ARE WE GAZING OUR EYES UPON A WRETCHED THING FROM THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES?!

edit:

Is Lucia Wright an avatar of The Flesh now (in this universe or from the original timeline somehow)? Because it sure fucking sounds like it! 👀 Well, at least that key was put to good use! 😂

Also, supposedly Mr. Bonzo is a reference to Mr. Blobby.

Gwen, I'd be quaking in my boots too. That thing is terrifying!

Late observation but this universe & story seems to focus a lot on the cryptids & I like the direction it's going in! Loving this plot of cryptid hunters, childhood avatar experiments, a strange institute where our main character has past trauma, & just all of it is so good! 💜

Amazing episode, 10/10, I was at the edge of my seat the entire time! 💜 That Bonzo scene & the sound design were absolutely horrifying, thank you! The ending too! 🔥