#to share a bite of your friend’s food without a thought

[tonycries]

Bad Boys Bring Roses - G.S.

Synopsis. You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?

Pairing. Yakuza boss! Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, yakuza! au, fake marriage, annoyances to lovers, elders suck, mentioned k*lling (not reader or Satoru), Satoru is INSANE and SO down bad, one bed trope, praise, biting, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, flower language, kníves, bit dark, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 9.1k (whoopsies)

A/N. I just HAD to get this out of my mind like I wanna write an entire book series on this. Spent too long researching rose language as well so see if y’all catch that hehe.

You thought the wedding invitation was a joke when it had arrived - a delicate, lacey little card that you’ve probably read over a million times by now. It had been stuffed haphazardly into your mailbox, along with a ridiculously large bouquet of purple roses. Seemingly inconspicuous when you first tore into the thick envelope, wondering which one of your friends was getting married now. 

And it was - that is, until you saw your name at the very top - right where the blushing bride’s was supposed to be. 

We hereby formally invite you to the marriage of…

What? 

No return address. No date. No groom’s name either. Only yours, written in beautiful, golden writing - inviting you to your own wedding, exactly a week from now.

You remember perfectly the way you’d flipped it over and over in your hands, the gears turning in your head as you tried to crack down on the motive behind this invitation. A threat? A joke? Texting all of your friends about what a cute prank that was - only to get a shared confused reaction, and a few “April Fool’s has already passed, y’know.”

Hell, you’d even cornered the mailman, desperate to get to the bottom of this. But that wasn’t particularly helpful when he was only able to shake his head in protest, pale as a sheet, and trembling ever-so-slightly as he sped away from you. Weird. 

Without a clue as to who sent the letter, or even a follow-up in the days after, you stuffed the invitation somewhere deep in the back of your closet and handed the bouquet to your mother. Not bothering to tell your parents where it was from - because who’d worry over a stupid prank like this? It was probably one of the kids from down the street that’d gotten their grubby lil’ hands on a printer. 

You, however, had more important things to focus on - like trying to help your father revive his failing diner. It was a family business, a quaint, hearty little shop. One that was quickly, and dangerously, losing both customers and employees with the brand new fast food place that’d popped up right across the street. 

Which is why you found yourself here - working overtime on a Saturday night, looking over the empty chairs and stacks of boxes from behind the counter. Whatever, it was only a few weeks until relocation anyway.

You heave out a sigh, eyes flitting to the clock beside you - 11:21pm.

Nine minutes more, you drum your fingers in boredom, maybe you should just close up early. Because sure as hell no one else was-

“Oh? Still open?”

“Ah- Uh, yes, welcome!” Jolting out of your reverie, you stand up ramrod straight, taking in the customer standing at the door. He wasn’t one of the regulars - no, you think you’d remember if he was. Cloudy white hair, piercing blue eyes that twinkle from above his shades, even in the dim light of the diner. He was so very tall, taking up almost all of the doorframe, only getting more and more imposing as he walks up to you in quick, long strides. Magnetizing. 

And if you dared let your eyes wonder, you caught a few tattoos peeking out from his unfairly snug button-up, clashing with its flashy blue color. Dragons? Trees? Or were they flowers - roses?

“Roses.” the man in front of you answers your unspoken question, voice so very deep, and melodic - tinged with something playful in it that you wouldn’t have expected at first glance. At your raised brow he continues with a wink, “Could tell ya were checkin’ me out, sweetheart.”

“F-forgive my rudeness, sir.” you sputter, face burning. You look away from the way his muscled ripple as he crosses his arms, immediately turning to fumble with the menus, “Please take a seat and I’ll be there with you shortly.”

You’d expected him to take up a booth, or maybe head towards one of the good tables around the corner. What you did not expect was for him to plop down on the stool right in front of you, flashing you a playful grin before humming, “S’alright, m’just waitin’ for someone.”

Oh. Well, it made sense that someone like him would be taken. Swallowing, you hand over the menu, before giving him a close-lipped smile, “A lover?”

Resting his head on his palms, not bothering to even glance at the list of dishes before him. “My fiancée.”

“Congratulations, Mr…”

“Gojo Satoru.” he tilts his head, looking way too happy with himself. “Please, call me Satoru.” 

You nod softly, picking up your pen and notepad to get this conversation over with - and maybe to also avoid his heavy stare that made something hot and uncomfortable coil in your stomach. “Right, Mr-” at his disappointed whine, “Satoru. Congratulations, must be one heck of a thing to plan.”

“Oh I’m having fun with the wedding planning.” He waves off your words with a chuckle, missing - or pointedly ignoring - the way you were waiting for his order. “How’s it going for you?”

What?

You narrow your eyes at the way Satoru was batting those long lashes up at you, deceivingly innocent and waiting for your answer. “I’m sorry- Me? Did you mean with the diner relocation plans or-”

“No no no.” he laughs, loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say at someone interrupting you if you weren’t so mesmerized by that little dimple at the corner of his grin. One that moves as he plows on, “M’asking how wedding planning is going for you, wifey~”

There’s a beat of silence. One. Two. With you gaping at the pure audacity as Satoru quiets down to little titters, seemingly studying your reaction in amusement. Which slowly, but surely, drains from his face as you grit out a sharp, “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir. We’re very busy and don’t have time to entertain your pick-up lines.”

Those widened blue eyes sweep the painfully empty diner, letting out a low whisper. “I can see that.” you let out a strangled noise of embarrassment at that. “But you’re really gonna ask your husband to leave?”

Huffing in frustration, “I don’t have a husband.”

“...you do.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. And who the fuck are you to tell me I do?”

“What?!” Satoru jumps out of his seat in shock, fast enough that the stool clatters to the floor with a deafening clang! Hands slamming on the counter as he leans over it - so close that you could feel his minty breath fanning your face with each hurried, shrill word that tumbles out of his lips. “What do you mean you don’t have a- I’m gonna kill those fuckin’- After I bought Canva premium just to make that invitation? Did the flowers come at least?”

And while Satoru is panicking, words spilling out of his mouth a mile a minute - only one of those rings in your mind - invitation. 

“You.” you hiss, barely audible over meltdown in front of you. Pointing a finger accusingly, “You’re the one behind that prank with the dumbass roses.”

That seems to snap Satoru out of his dramatic monologue - and you’re glad it did. Because he looks up to meet your glare, “Hey! You didn’t like the roses?” 

And for the first time, you see Satoru more serious than he’d been ever since stepping into this diner. Eyes somewhere behind you, ablaze and almost…frightening. “Didn’t you ask him?” 

You whirl around to see your father, who’d apparently rushed downstairs at the commotion. Baseball bat to fight off the intruder hanging in midair as he stands frozen, taking in the scene before him - but more importantly, that man in front of him. “You.”

---

And, well, it’s not everyday that you’re having late night tea with your parents and one of your father’s…business associates. Even rarer when said business associate is…you gulp, praying to whoever’s above that this is all some sick dream you’ll wake up any second from. 

“So, let me get this straight…” you sigh, pinching your nose in frustration. It’s been an hour or two of trying to understand whatever this was. Giving a stern look at the two men squirming across from you in the booth. “My father was conned by one of your-” you gesture your head at Satoru, which only makes his smirk grow, “-men to take a loan from your um-”

“Family, yakuza. Anything goes.” he supplies helpfully.

You wave him off, trying as quickly as possible to brush off the ‘yakuza’ bit that makes your stomach lurch. “And now he owes you a favor of…what exactly?”

Satoru leans across the table, t-shirt opening tantalizingly. Voice dropping to an almost-pleading murmur, “Look, I just need you to pretend to be my doting, loving, charming, gorgeous-” backtracking at your withering glare, “...Anyway. I just need a fake wife for a few months, convince my family to get off my back about arranged marriage n’ carrying the Gojo legacy. Then bam! you stomp all over my heart, we divorce and I’m too heartbroken to ever get married again. Easy.” 

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

You bet Satoru’s disappointed groan echoed across all 23 words of Tokyo, because it was definitely ringing in your ears amongst whirlwind thoughts of marriage? To a yakuza? Completely, and utterly ridiculous. And from his talks of “carrying the family name” it seemed like he was some sort of future head as well. Though, he definitely wasn’t acting like it right now. 

“Alright. Plan B, then.” 

Oh? You couldn’t help but think that maybe he wasn’t that much of a manchild as sits up from where he’d been splayed all over the table in tragedy. Lacing his fingers together before turning to your father, continuing in a more diplomatic tone, “But I want the cash you took. In full. Now. Gonna hafta disguise my best friend as my wife, n’ dresses for a six foot man aren’t cheap.”

Your mother looked like she could faint right then and there. Choking out a noise of surprise, “B-but we’ve deposited it all for the relocation- Please, can’t we pay any other-”

At the firm shake of his head, you stammer, “Now? Aren’t you some yakuza nepo baby, can’t you just ask your parents for money?”

“No.” Satoru chuckles, in a tone which told you that he probably could but might just lose his head for it. Only further supported as he muses, “Not unless I want a finger cut off for dealin’ money on the side. Seriously, sweetheart, why did you think I sent you the invitation last week?”

“Take me instead.” you father cries, trying to negotiate above Satoru’s half-joking mutters of “Ugh, I’m not into ol’ men dumb enough to sign yakuza contracts.”

It was all too much. You couldn’t take out the relocation deposit - it was a new start, possibly the only thing to save your family. Nor do you have enough in savings to pay back the loan. And if Satoru’s warning was anything to listen to, then you knew that dealing with the yakuza could be dangerous. Why you? Why you? Why you? 

“Fine.”

The moment that word leaves your lips, it’s like the whole world freezes. Everyone in the room - including yourself - unsure of whether they heard you right. “I’ll do it.” you clarify, voice hesitant but firm. Eyeing the way Satoru’s eyes begin to sparkle, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips. Raising a finger to shush your father’s protests, “But for a month, until we leave this place. After that m’going with my family and you’re never to contact us ever again. Deal?”

And oh Satoru seemed over the moon, reaching out to grasp your hand in a handshake - so warm, and softer than you’d imagined. “Swear on m’life, wifey. You can kill me if not.”

He was so intimidating - and intimidatingly exhilarating.

Only an hour more of arguing and a quick phone call later, men - yakuza, you assume - were flooding your family’s little diner. All tattooed and burly, looking somewhat comical as they carried your few packed-up suitcases outside. Well, at least they stayed for a late dinner. 

And ended up being witnesses to a very rushed, very rushed signing of marriage agreements. Evidence to really show up your alleged marriage. It barely even lasted a few minutes before, well, that was that - you were married, to the son of a yakuza head. 

You say a quick goodbye to your teary parents, soothing them with promises of “I’ll be back before you know it. One month. That’s all.” 

“And don’t worry about a thing,” Satoru sing-songs, coming up behind you. “If there’s anyone she’s safe with, it’s me.”

“You better keep your mitts off of my baby.” your father warns, raising the baseball bat still clutched in his hand menacingly. 

“I won’t lay a hand on her, father-in-law. And anyone that even thinks about it…” he cackles, breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll kill.”

Prancing off to hold the door of that shiny black Mercedes parked outside open for you. “Ladies first.”

With another quick hug to your parents, you hastily make your way inside. Feeling extremely out of place amongst the overly luxurious interior in your slightly-stained work uniform. God, the covers on these cushions themselves probably cost more than your house. 

“Like the car? I can buy you one. Or four, as a wedding gift.” Satoru grins. 

Oh, right. You weren’t in here alone - you were here with your new…husband. The word felt so strange to even wrap your head around, instead you turn to meet his easy smile. Clenching your jaw as you grit out, “So how do we act m-married?”

You swear he brightens up impossibly, scooting closer to you on the seat. Heart lurching as he raises his eyes to meet yours, dizzy with the heat of his proximity, he promptly pulls out his Notes app. 

“Well, you see. I forgot to send this with the invitation so you better memorize this before we get home.” flashing you a long, long list of likes and dislikes, “Here’s my favorite color and my favorite Digimon and-”

That car ride could not have been longer. Because in addition to arguing with Satoru about who the best Digimon was, you had to fill out your own version of his overly extensive list. “So we can be foolproof.” he’d whined. And you’d been so engrossed in the process that you barely noticed the looming estate out the window.

“We’re here, young master and madam Gojo.”

It took a second to register that the driver was talking to you as well as Satoru, immediately pushing your face against the window to take in the scenic site before you. Heavy wooden doors - probably taller than an average house - opening to reveal sprawling gardens. Koi ponds and rose bushes lining a pathway that led to a traditional Japanese house - all power and glory. You half wondered whether you were still in Tokyo. 

“Home sweet home.” Satoru grunts. “Such a beautiful hell, huh?”

Your home, for the next month. At least. 

And if you had any doubt that Satoru was in fact the future yakuza head, that all went out the window at the welcome you got. Men lining the wooden hallway, bowing at the waist while your all-new husband wraps a hand around your shoulders, pointing out the various rooms and ornaments as he led you in. 

“-and this is going to be our room.” he brings you in front of a large tatami room, one the size of your entire diner. 

“Ours.” you repeat. Walking unhurriedly to the king-sized bed in the middle - the only bed. Heart pounding as you take it all in. 

“Ours.” Satoru echoes, happily. And if he was any bit as affected as you are, then he doesn’t show it, instead pulling out a blue yukata from the closet, a golden Gojo emblem stamped on the back. Made with such a pretty, delicate fabric that it made you shiver to think how much it cost. “Now, I had these made jus’ for you last week. You can give me a lil’ fashion show tomorrow, so make sure you get some rest, wifey.”

It’s only when he says the word “rest” that you realize exactly how tired you are. Your long shift and the entirety of this having your eyes feeling heavier than usual. 

“Um…” you start, risking a glance at the bed. 

Satoru jolts, “Ah- don’t worry, sweetheart. You take the bed.” beginning to saunter outside to meet his team. “Got some work, so I’ll be sleeping in my office. Dream of me~”

And, really, you almost felt bad splaying yourself out on the crisp navy sheets. Sinking into the heady smell of fabric softener, and something so so Satoru. Addictive. Like an expensive cologne that made your head spin, one that wafted through your mind as you dreamt of summer weddings, and blue, blue skies.

“Ichiji.”

“Yes, young master.”

“See to it that the madam is safe. Anyone try anything funny and you bring them back alive. I wanna be the one to play with them, okay~?”

“Of course, young master.”

---

Admittedly, you probably have the best sleep of your life at the Gojo estate- or, it would’ve been if your husband didn’t burst in every morning at 7am. Handing you a ridiculously big bouquet of white roses, straight from the garden, before dragging you outside. 

Milling about the estate, Satoru was never too far behind, chattering away. Letting you hold onto his strong arm crossing the bridges, occasionally having you show up to yakuza meetings as his plus one. Relishing in the rumors spreading all through the yakuza syndicates in Tokyo. Gojo Satoru, and the commoner wife he’d do anything for.

Weirdly enough, some strange little part of you thinks he puts in a lot more work than necessary for some pretend relationship…

“I think that stupid plan is really working, y’know.” you muse to him after a few days of this. Dipping your fingers into one of your favorite koi ponds with a nod at the figures watching you from a distance - Gojo clan elders, you assume. “Those old coots hate being within a five mile radius of me.”

Satoru huffs out a laugh, “That so? S’probably the method acting then, huh? Taking good care of me, wifey?” he wiggles his eyebrows, nudging you from where he was holding an umbrella beside you. 

Furrowing your brows mockingly, “S’funny for you to say, they don’t even look at me. But they follow me around everywhere.”

“Do they annoy you, must I do my duty as a husband and gouge their eyes out?”

He…didn’t sound like he was joking. 

Rolling your eyes, you pointedly ignoring the way your heart lurches at the word “husband.” Still so jumpy at the idea. “Speaking of, your parents give up the marriage proposals, yet?”

At this, Satoru clenches his jaw. “Still nagging, but they’re finally considering you as my actual bride rather than some hijink.” he spits out, seemingly recalling whatever conversation they’d had before. “And they want to have some family ‘dinner’, but it’s going to be awful and you don’t-”

“Let’s go.” you interrupt, nodding determinedly. “The realer this marriage seems, the faster we can divorce, no?”

He blinks at you slowly, “That’s…true. For the divorce, then?”

“For the divorce.”

And, well, that was settled - you were to meet your new in-laws. The ever-elusive heads of the Gojo clan. Also one of the most powerful yakuza in all of Japan, but, semantics really.

You spend the evening cooped up with Satoru in the library, poring over the bloody history of the yakuza - with the Gojo’s heading them all. The only time he actually leaves your side is a few hours before the dinner. 

“For you.” he’d murmured, lips ghosting your ear, slipping something cold onto your finger. You look down to see one of the most beautiful rings you’ve ever seen - gold, with delicate blue and white diamonds encrusting it, cut in the shape of roses. “Can’t be married without a wedding ring, huh? Think of it as a good luck charm for tonight.”

And with that he’s swept away in a flurry of bodyguards and ruffled men, and you’re left standing there all alone. Cheeks burning, wondering how the hell he knew your perfect fit. 

You worry longer about the dinner than you spend actually preparing for it. Though, that’s probably because of the group of stylists that come into your room to help you dress. Wordlessly fussing around you despite your weak attempts at conversation, eyes averted. Almost like they were…scared of you. 

But there wasn’t much time to think of that - not when you’re being marched off in the direction of what you remember Satoru had called the family dining room. “More like a fuckin’ meeting room for those hardasses.” he’d snarked.

The moment you step in, all eyes turn to you - the only ones you recognize being Satoru’s, who immediately stands with a smile. “Ah, wifey! Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” pulling you into a tight hug. His voice drops into a low, raspy murmur in your ear, “Ya look fuckin’ gorgeous in my colors, y’know.”

Traitorously, jolts of electricity run down your spine. Especially at how fucking gorgeous he looked in traditional wear. Whispering back, “Playing up the doting husband bit, huh?”

“Only for you.”

Pulling away, you drink in his dangerously handsome state. Hair so effortlessly styled, tattoos winking at you from just above his yukata - blue, to match yours. So pretty.

Stammering out, “Corny.”

“Only for-”

“Now that the girl is finally here, may we begin with dinner?” A stained voice sounds from behind Satoru, old and tinged with a tone that years of customer service told you did not bode well. Craning your head, you look over his broad shoulders, meeting the eyes of several disapproving elders. 

Shit. Some of the most dangerous people in this country right now. 

Gathered here - for you. 

Automatically, you knew which ones were his parents - painfully upright, and hauntingly beautiful in a cold, calculated way. Sat right at the head of the long table. With a jolt, you realize that you two are seated right opposite them. 

“So.” his mother starts, as you take your seat with a bow. Satoru doesn’t waste any time on niceties, plopping down right next to you, scooting closer than necessary. “Congratulations on the…wedding, my son.”

My son. You ignore the way both parents pointedly avoided looking at you. Your husband, however, does not. “What~ Not gonna wish my dear wife as well?”

It’s a silent staredown - one that has the entire room on edge. You don’t realize that you’re clenching your fists in tension until Satoru untangles them, slipping his larger hands into yours. Gaze still alarmingly intense and locked on the other side of the table.

He wins.

“Congratulations. Let us begin now.” 

You breathe out a sigh of relief, the tension only slightly broken as butlers stream into the room, carrying decadent trays of food. Well, at least the food might make up for how appalling this dinner is going to be.

It’s only 15 minutes in that you realize how very, horribly wrong you are - because the elders of the Gojo estate really don’t hold back, do they? Thank God you memorized every part of that stupid likes and dislikes list.

Besides picking apart every aspect of your relationship that they could manage to squeeze out of you between the appetizer and the main course, the main scrutiny tonight seems to be you. But in that icy, subtle way that has Satoru’s jaw clenching tighter each second. 

Lips curling, Gojo senior eyes you over his wine glass. “So, dear,” voice dripping with underlying venom despite the pet name. “Is it true our Satoru missed an esteemed marriage meeting with the Zenin group to ambush you at some rundown old diner?”

You fight to keep the smile plastered onto your face, painful and cracking under the pressure. A hand squeezing under the table to stop Satoru from opening his mouth to retort, you answer instead, “Well, ambushed wouldn’t be the word. You could say we fell in love over the counter - at my family’s diner.”

“A waitress, she said?”

“Now we know why it was this rushed. Probably pregnant.”

“The scandal. How far the Gojo name has fallen.”

The few stifled gasps from the other end of the table are so dramatic that you could almost laugh. But you don’t. Breath hitching as Mrs. Gojo chuckles, “Marrying the daughter of a lowly diner owner? How... quaint.”

“Mother, be quiet or-”

“What?” she throws her hands in exasperation. “Can’t I say anything around here. Honestly, Satoru, I’m just trying to make conversation with your new wife.”

Before either you or Satoru can react, his father speaks up, apparently not done with the interrogation. “You understand that we’re just worried, right, dear? Especially with marrying into prestigious families, of course.” The emphasis on “prestigious” is not lost on you.” And it drives you insane. 

Steeling yourself, you train your eyes on the untouched food below you. “I understand.”

Plowing on as if trying to infuriate you, “And you understand that this position is dangerous? You’ll be targeted.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? Don’t be swept up in our Satoru’s charm and wealth, dear, my son just wants a way out of duty.” tone dripping with disdain, Satoru’s grip becoming tighter and tighter on yours. “The Gojo syndicate owns half of this city, we could bulldoze over that little diner of yours with only one phone call”

“My wife and I are leav-”

“I said I fuckin’ understand.” Your words hang in the air like a foul stench, and you raise your head to glare. If looks could kill, all the elders in this room would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on their graves already. “Neither me, nor my husband would ever let that happen because he knows a thing or two about respect, unlike you.” Lacing your fingers tighter with Satoru’s. “So shove your mighty family up your wrinkly asses. I don’t give a flying shit.” 

Eyes wide, jaws dropped, the old couple opposite you finally seems stunned into silence. And if it was any other situation you could’ve almost laughed at how similar they looked to Satoru when he found out you thought his proposal was a prank.

His father adjusts his glasses. “Perhaps that is so.”

Ah, if only the rest of the table would be quietened just as easily. 

“Not only is she a slut she’s a-”

Thud!

It all happens so fast you’re not even sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. Because in a split-second, the knife that was at your side is suddenly embedded, deep into the wooden table - barely even an inch away from the elder that had spoken up. 

“You’re lucky I’m matching with my wife n’ didn’t want to dirty this new yukata.” a voice sounds from your side. Melodic and so so eerie that you don’t realize for a second that it’s Satoru - your Satoru. 

He loops an arm under your legs as he stands up. Easily maneuvering you into a princess carry, forcing you to cling onto his robes for dear life as your feet dangle from the floor. You look up - maybe to snap at Satoru to put you down - only for the words to die in your throat at how absolutely fucking feral your husband looked. Eyes wide, aura menacing. A grin gracing his features, not the familiar one which had your heart racing, no - something so dangerous and cold. 

“Now,” he hums. Turning his back to the room, gaze still locked with the shocked heads inside, “My lovely wife and I will be retiring. Won’t you all say goodnight to your future madam?”

You don’t know what shocks you more - the way everyone in that room mumbles out a disdainful little “Goodnight, ma’am.”, or the way Satoru cackles as he carries you to your shared bedroom. Laying you gently on the mattress with a quiet, “Be right back, sweetheart.”

What the fuck happened?

He could’ve killed that man. And looked like he wanted to. 

Your brain yells at you - run away run away run away- But you weren’t…scared? In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever been less fearful in your entire life. Especially not when Satoru stumbles back into the room, clearly rushing. Something warm spreading in your chest at the trays of food in his hands.

“Dinner’s better without a bunch of fossils on my kill list.” he grins. Settling right next to you on the bed, setting out the dinner he’d brought for you. And, well, you didn’t doubt that they really were on his kill list. 

“Hey, wifey.” Satoru speaks up after a few moments of silence, satisfied with the food laid in front of you. “M’sorry for putting you through that. No more family dinners from now.”

You inch closer to lay your head on his sculpted shoulder, a hand bringing up the food to his pretty lips. He smelled so good, faintly like pine, and clouds. It made you so dizzy. “Eat, Satoru.”

That’s all which is said, because maybe that’s all that was needed. And for a second there, you almost forget that this is all pretend.

---

“Hey, uh- mister. You alright?” you call out, voice barely audible over the rain. 

The sullen figure didn’t react at first, soaked through and eyes trained on the ground. Unmoving, even when you hesitantly drew closer, umbrella quivering in your hands. 

You should turn around - walk away like everyone else on the sidewalk was doing. But no, something about the way he sat alone, stoic to the storm around him made you inch closer. “Here.” you hold out your umbrella. “S’our diner’s, but you look like you could use this more than I do.”

He jolts, as if hearing you for the first time. A flash of blue, so quick you almost think you miss it. Still not raising his head fully, the man’s snowy hair tousles as he jerkily closes around the handle. Pretty. And so so sad.

“It’ll be alright.” you nod. 

And with that, you turn, running back in the rain to the haven of the diner, where your father was waiting impatiently - he’d just bought the boxes to start packing up for relocation. Fingers still burning ever-so-slightly where his hand had brushed against yours. How strange, you wondered his name.

---

Satoru stayed true to his word over the weeks that followed. His parents seemed well and fully intent on avoiding you. And, well, other than a few disdainful remarks, the elders mostly scurried away in fear at your very sight. 

The only thing that made your skin prickle was that the housekeepers had a penchant for peeping in on the two of you. Increasingly following you - they always did, but now…honestly, it was a bit disconcerting. 

But other than that, it was almost…peaceful. You wake up every morning to a large bouquet of burgundy roses at your bedside table - and a husband. Because Satoru had taken to sleeping on the little couch at the corner of your room every night - saying something about not wanting to rouse suspicion because if he actually had a wife he’d be “taking her to bed every night”. Somehow, you didn’t doubt it. 

“Funny how it’s getting close to a month of being married, but you haven’t even kissed me yet.” you deadpan. Looking down at where he was resting his head in your lap, sprawled across the soft grass in the garden.

Something else also happened - something different.

Because Satoru was a bit touchier, a bit closer. Like right now, preening into your fingers carding through his soft hair. “Oh~? Why, wanna take me to bed, wifey?”

“You wish.”

“Maybe I do.”

Your hands still, pulse racing as your eyes bore into Satoru’s, trying to figure out what sort of bad joke this was. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning down closer - too closer. Close enough that you could count every shade of blue in his hungry gaze. But by the grace of whoever was above-

“Young master, please excuse the intrusion but you have-”

Sitting up abruptly, addressing the newcomer in a stone-cold tone. “How many fuckin’ times have I not told you to never bother me when I’m with my wife?”

The servant bows apologetically, sputtering out apologies as you move to get up. Flashing a smirk at Satoru’s dramatic pout, “I have to catch up on some reading anyway. See ya, Satoru.” 

“Noo~ my sweetheart don’t leave me~” 

You stifle a laugh at his little tantrum, so different from when he was serious. He was so….dizzying. “You’ll be okay, Satoru.” Glancing up nervously to meet the servant’s intense stare, studying the scene before him, how different his master was. “I’ll be at the library now.”

And Satoru notices - of course, he does. He sees that tiny flash of concern in your eyes. One that you might not have noticed yourself. He lowers his voice as you walk away, so you don’t hear him speaking behind you. Words dripping with a similar venom he always heard from his parents, “Now, tell me who you’re spying for. Names, first and last.” 

Satoru doesn’t join you in the library that day, the first time in weeks. And you find yourself missing him more than you should. It’s dark out by the time you’re raising your head from the books, joints aching from poring over them for hours. The house seems a lot quieter. Somewhat bigger. 

Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Something was wrong. 

Scratching the back of your head, you wander through the wooden hallways to your bedroom - wondering what was amiss. Your feet take you there as if on autopilot, thankful for Satoru’s meticulous tours. 

“Hey,” you smile softly at a servant making your bed, “Where are-”

Your question dies in your throat at the way she yelps at your words, hurrying down the corridor with a jerky bow. Weird. Leaving you all alone, and confused, muttering to yourself, it’s only then that you notice the flash of red by your bedside table. 

Not a bouquet. Only a single, red rose - a note tied around the stem, something you’d never gotten before. 

“The marriage proposals have been revoked, your contract is fulfilled, my ex-wife.”

Oh, reading that hurt more than it should’ve. You should be happy at being free, a few days earlier than expected at that - but it was over - just like that. You didn’t want to leave him. You didn’t want to leave him.You didn’t want to leave him.

 Were you going insane?

Clutching the flower like a lifeline, heaving out a sigh, “Maybe Satoru knows…”

“Thinking of me?”

Startled, you whirl behind to face your husband. In the dim-lighting, making out the stoney expression on his face, eyes wide and a little duller than they had been earlier today. 

“Satoru?”

His eyes light up at the mere sound of your voice - then you’re engulfed in him. Wrapping you in his arms, bowing his body into yours, so tight that it almost hurts. But you let him, fisting the fresh yukata in your hands - and that’s when you realize, he’s changed his robes since this morning. “Are you okay?” you whisper into his shoulder. Drinking in the smell of his cologne, and something faintly metallic. 

Every cell in your body is screaming at you to take the opportunity - to run away from this yakuza and his slaughter and whatever this was. But how could you? Staying rooted to the spot, not even a speck of fear.

Satoru heaves out a heavy breath, tickling the hairs at your nape as he pulls you impossibly closer. “Those nosy elders won’t be bothering you anymore, sweetheart. You’re free to go.”

A shudder runs down your spine at his words, and you didn’t want to think too hard about what they meant. Instead, you guide him to your bed - and, surprisingly, he allows you to. Letting the two of you sink into the plush mattress. With Satoru still in your arms. He repeats, “You’re free to go.”

Run away. Run away. Run away-

There it was again - that strained little manta. You stare right into his eyes, voice thick at the sinking feeling in your stomach. “My 30 days aren’t over yet.” 

“Leave. Please.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, like your hands drawing patterns down his back had broken some dam. “M’not a good man.” 

You press your lips to his forehead, searing and a desperate attempt to soothe the man. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

“I’m yakuza, sweetheart. Doomed to follow my parents here.” he mutters, strained and voice more unsure than you’ve ever heard. And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into your skin, “I hate it here, and you should, too. All these fuckin-”

“So go with me instead.”

“What if-”

“Toru.‘ you cut off his words, slurring and spilling out of his mouth. Gently, you pry him away from his little haven, reeling back to take a good look at the face he’s been hiding for so long. Hair mussed, curtaining his whirling eyes - all disheveled and vulnerable where he was once so suave. 

Your eyes bore into his, unwavering. “It’ll be alright, Toru.”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. Only when his lips meet yours, soft, and so so sweet, do you realize that this is everything you ever want right now - possibly these past few weeks. “Y’can kill me if you don’ want his.” he mutters into your open mouth.  

It’s so desperate - a messy clash of teeth and saliva, Satoru was drinking you in like you were the last drop of water on Earth. He tasted so sweet, like candy almost, and the gentle caress of a lover. You were addicted like you could do this forever and ever and-

And then he’s pulling away. A disappointed little whine leaves you involuntarily as he parts, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the space between you two. Satoru’s mouth drops into a soft oh! at the noise, surging forward minutely like he was about to kiss you senseless again. Only to halt with a pained grunt, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. 

“M’sorry.” Claiming your lips once again, like a man possessed. Drinking in your breathless gasps. Like he never wanted to let go. “F-fuck, sweetheart. Y’don’t know how crazy you drive me.” he pants.

“Why did you pick me?” you blurt out, a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind every time Satoru slipped his hand in yours, introducing you as his loving wife. “Was it just the debt?”

He’s kissing your pulse now, canines hovering over the erratic little cadence. Breathing you in like you were intoxicating. “No.” he’s licking a long, languid stripe up your neck. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down every inch of skin he could reach. 

“Then why?” your words come out in almost an embarrassing plea. But by the way his breath hitches, you know that Satoru loves it. 

“Because.” he breathes, “You treated me like a human.”

He’s capturing your lips with his again, nipping at your bottom lips. You squeal as he pulls, suddenly wanting him to tease you like this everywhere. To have him absolutely ruin you like you know he could - treat you like the wife he claimed you were. 

But Satoru wasn’t done yet - far from it. He chuckles, kissing down your neck, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Remember that night? You probably don’t, was rainin’ so hard I thought I’d drown out there.” Worshiping the valley between your breasts as he hastily unbuckles your bra. “That night was when the marriage proposals had come in. They said I’d either carry the legacy or be forced to leave the family. Kicked out of my own home.” 

And you’re reeling from both his words and the way Satoru was rocking his hips into yours now, something hot, and so achingly hard pressing in the damp area between your legs. “Thought I was gonna take ‘em all out that night.”

“Take them all out?” your breath hitches.

“Every. Single. One.” Fingers dancing across the hem of your panties. “Wouldn’t have felt bad about it either.” 

Satoru’s licking down your navel now, humming in confirmation into your skin. “But then…” he groans, taking in the first fucking sinful sight of your drenched panties. So flimsy and already dripping for him - and after just a few kisses, really? You were heaven on Earth. “But then along came you. So pretty and all worried f’me. The daughter of that diner owner I’d loaned money too.”

You watch, heart racing as Satoru swallows in awe. Darkened gaze locked on the way your slick beads out of your pussy, bare thighs trying to close - give yourself some semblance of dignity. But no- how could you? When Satoru’s holding them apart.

“And then I knew…” he’s sliding his index underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertip before popping it into his mouth. Eyes fluttering shut at the taste, and you’ve never seen him look so blissful. “I just had to have you.”

Rip! 

The cold air brushes against you before you even know it - only when you feel Satoru’s hot breath against your dripping cunt does it hit - this bastard just ripped your panties off. And he was dangling it like a badge of honor, breathing in your juices so animalistically. 

Your lips wobble as he just admires your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. “Hah- please.”

“Please what?” he grins, and you can feel him licking little circles around your inner thigh. So close. “The wife of a yakuza boss has gotta know how to use her words.”

“You’re awful.”

“And yet you married me.”

With such a cute lil’ whine that makes Satoru’s cock twitch so painfully, you buck your hips closer to his hot mouth. “Wan’ your mouth on me, to eat me out. Please, Toru.”

He lets out a shuddering breath, “There’s my girl.”

You gasp when he surges forward, burying his pretty face nose-deep in your pussy. Holding your breath as he lazily licks up your folds - long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Swirling deftly around the sensitive nub. 

Drunk off your pussy with the way he’s so messy - seemingly unable to decide between sucking harshly on your poor, ravaged clit to dipping into your sloppy hole. And it’s driving you mad, keening and pulling at his soft locks. You haven’t been touched this good in ages, and Satoru was well and fully intent on ruining you. 

“Shhh, don’t worry, wifey.” words muffled into your cunt, “Your husband’s gonna take care of you.” He’s throwing your legs over his broad shoulders.

“Real good care of you.” Then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, the tips of his long fingers massaging your plushy walls. Messy enough that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Roaming for that one spot he knows will have you moaning deliciously. Pressing down, hard.  “Found it. Gonna have you screamin’ my name til’ the entire estate hears.”

You tug on his hair, urging Satoru’s mouth towards your cunt - partially because you wanted him there, partially because you really needed him to shut up right now. 

And shit how could he ever say no to his pretty wife?

Satoru is grinning, you can feel it on your throbbing clit as he wraps his pretty pink lips around it. Pumping his fingers in and out, hitting that little spot each and every time. Looking like he was absolutely in heaven as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over and-

“Sh-shit. Toru-”

“Mmm, yes- fuck, love it when you call me that.” he groans. And oh he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you - eyes half-lidded, such a pretty blush disting his cheeks - and making out with your pussy just as much. Tilting his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Feels good? Ya like when m’ruining your pretty pussy?”

“Yes!” you squirm. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. “Wanted it s’bad.” 

He’s becoming frenzied now, drinking in your cute little whimpers like he was addicted. But it wasn’t enough - it never was and fuck Satoru wanted more more more-

“Move your hips, yeah- jus’ like that.” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Letting you pull and angle him just as you please. 

“Gonna be the best fuckin’ husband you’ll ever have. N’ anyone that says otherwise, m’gonna fuckin’ kill.” The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Make you cum harder than y’ever have. C’mon, say yes.”

And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and bullying his tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal. “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes-”

“Beg for it, beg for your husband.”

“Wanna cum- Ah! Please, wanna cum, Toru.”

One hand so messy toying with your dripping entrance - not having the patience or the sanity to even draw circles anymore. Just quick, hurried patterns to get you off. The other digging into your hips, so hard you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. Making you drag your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. Using him. 

“Hngh- Toru! Ah- fuck fuck Toru Toru T-”  You’re shaking - crying out as you cum. A guttural, strangled moan of your husband’s name. So violent, and hard that you don’t even realize at first. Just that you’re rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears.

And he doesn’t stop - not even once. If you were in any better state of mind you’d wonder whether it hurt - whether his fingers were cramping up, and his tongue was tired. If they were, he didn’t show, only letting you chase your high as roughly as you want. 

Greedily lapping up all your juices. Even when you’re blinking your vision back, chest heaving as you try to regain our breath. “S-Satoru.” you mewl, stars behind your eyes with each flick of his tongue. 

“Jus’ a bit more. Wanna taste all of you.”

You weren’t going to make it out alive.

Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation as Satoru finally rises from what you almost worried would be his favorite seat. “All done. Now, keep that pretty lil’ cunt on display f’me, my girl.”

And your cunt is clenching in- fear? Anticipation? As your husband finally unties his yukata, letting it slide off those milky, toned shoulders. And shit he was such a fucking masterpiece. The dim-lighting bouncing off every curve and dip of those carved abs. Delicate swirls of his tattoo inching from his collarbone, down, down, down, hugging Satoru in a way that made you so half-lucidly jealous. All the way till the last inky thorn meets the neat tufts of white hair peeking up from the hem of his underwear. 

“Touch me.” he groans into your ear. The words barely leave those pretty lips before your hands are everywhere. Dancing down his tattoo, groping at this pecs - too much to worship, not enough time. 

“Toru…” you trail off, hand reaching out to brush his waistband. Tugging just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, fat tip weeping down his length, already so soaked in precum. He was so intimidatingly long - longer than anyone else you’d had before. Thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. 

And he sees right through you.

“Now now, none of that.” he tuts, pushing your bare thighs as far apart as they’d go. He spreads your cunt so shamefully with his thumb. Spitting once, twice. Some of it splatter against your thigh as Satoru mixes his saliva with your slick. “Don’t worry, wifey, m’gonna make it feel good for ya.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he drags his fat head down your folds. Wetting himself, all the preparation he was going to give you because fuck Satoru needed to be inside your pretty lil’ pussy right now. 

Then you feel like you’re being split apart - as if Satoru’s cock was pushing all the way to your lungs as he presses through the first ring of muscle.

“Ah! Ngh- Toru, s���too big!” you yelp, eyes locked on the way your lips were stretched so lewdly around his tip. Clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in, inch by fucking inch. No mercy. Absolutely none at all. 

And while he sounded like he was on cloud nine, you were having your head spin, torn between wanting to run away from his massive cock and just push yourself down for more more more. His lips claim yours - absolutely animalistic because God he needed to shut up your pretty whines or else Satoru was going to cum right here right now.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breath. Ngh- You can take it.” Satoru pants into your mouth, fucking into you in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to fit inside your snug cunt. Sounding like he was losing his sanity each time your heavenly walls milked him. “So fuckin’ tight. Jus’ relax f’me. Oh yeah, jus’ like that. You can take it you can-”

You gasp for air when he finally bottoms out inside you, tears streaming down your face and clawing at his back. 

Satoru only coos, letting you mark him up all you want. Pace increasing relentlessly, “Aww, my good lil’ wife. Taking me so well, huh?” Starting to rock his hips just a bit faster into yours, “Always knew y’would.” 

“Can y’feel me, right-.” Balls smacking against your ass, his finger tracing an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “-here?” Thumb stroking where he could feel himself bulging inside you, pressing down. Hard. 

You almost sob at the pressure, jolting - you should’ve expected that the yakuza boss would fuck so mean.

And shit you can just do nothing but take it, hips jerking wildly as Satoru pounds into you with reckless abandon. Clutching at his shoulders, the sheets, his hair - just anything. 

“C’mon~ Don’t run away from me,” he grunts, strained like he’s struggling to maintain restraint. Lacing his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper onto his cock. “Jus’ fuckin’ got you, so don’t you dare run away.”

You can only nod. Eyes glazed, cockdrunk and letting him thrust so sloppily. “Won’t run away Toru…” you babble, “Wan’ you to make me yours.”

“Mine? Gonna be all mine?”

“All yours, Toru.”

And maybe you were an idiot, maybe you were a mastermind - because with a choked out little moan of what sounded like your name, Satoru’s pulling you both to sit up. The gravity makes you bury his cock deeper and faster into your tight pussy.

With the new angle, your husband’s hitting all the right spots easily, almost as if he knew your body better than you did. Veins rubbing so deliciously against your walls, shifting around your hips to fuck up into that poor, abused spot. 

“Ya like this, huh?” he groans, fingers now toying with your ravaged clit. Rolling it around harshly between two fingers. “Always knew this cute pussy could take me s’well. Just didn’t know it would feel this fucking heavenly.”

Faster, sloppier. Bouncing you on his rock-hard cock  like he was claiming you from the inside. So, so desperate and debauched.

And exactly where you wanted to be. 

You leave delicate pink bites down this pale neck, alongside those roses - marking him in your own way as you edge closer and closer. It was too much. Everything was too much. 

“Toru-” you sob. And he already knew what that meant. With how your voice breaks so adorably and the way you’re clenching around him hard enough that it’s almost difficult to ruin that cute pussy. 

“Close?” 

“Mhm…”

“Well then.” thrusts getting sloppy, with no reason or rhythm now. Grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Cum f’me like a good lil’ wife, then.”

And that makes you throw your head back in ecstasy - it makes you cum. Thighs quivering, jolts of electricity running down all the way from your overstimulated cunt to your hazy mind. It has you chanting Satoru’s name like a lifeline while his teeth dig into your flesh. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood.

Letting out low, muffled moans into your neck while he cums as well. Hot ropes of seed filling up your poor, bloated pussy, painting your walls such a sinful white. Cumming and cumming so hard you wondered whether you’d make it out alive.

And because of the obscene position, you could feel the way it dribbled down your legs. Thick globs landing in a pool on the overpriced sheets below, smearing so lewdly between you two. Hips still fucking up into you - not even thinking about it as he pushes his seed deeper and deeper. 

You managed to raise your eyes, still dazed to meet his - exhausted, and dark with lust and something else that you really weren’t in the right mind to decipher right now. 

And then Satoru’s lips find yours again, biting and tugging lazily. Tasting so unfairly of candy and sweet, sweet trouble. Body melting into you like all the worries have been lifted from his shoulders. He’s looping his arms tighter around your waist, crushing you into an almost-painful hug against him. 

Something soft. Something new. Something that makes a little part of your heart twinge to break the kiss and pull away mere millimeters. “We better not divorce after this.”

“Of course not.” He chuckles into your lips, resting his forehead against yours like he was trying to map the constellations in your eyes. “I haven’t even given you my wedding gift yet.”

Smirking, you lock your legs tighter around Satoru’s toned waist as he lets the two of you fall back into the mattress. Sinking into it - and each other - with both exhaustion and something of a quiet, unspoken little fondness. Batting your lashes up at him, “Mhm, I remember someone talking about giving me four mercedes as a wedding gift and I’m leaving if not.”

“Well then, better get to it. Four for my in-laws to get on their good side, too,” he nuzzles the bite mark on your neck. “Because I plan to stay like this for a long, long time.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[dreamertrilogys]

^^^ this is how i feel about sharing food <3 :-)

[pucksandpower]

Made with Love

Charles Leclerc x amateur baker!Reader

Summary: in which Charles would rather risk the entire paddock getting food poisoning (again) than break your heart by telling you that your baking is horrible

You hum to yourself as you pull a tray of freshly baked cupcakes out of the oven. The sweet, chocolaty aroma fills Charles’ kitchen, making your mouth water.

This batch is sure to be perfect! You’ve been practicing your baking skills for months now, determined to get it just right.

Charles wanders into the kitchen, drawn by the scent. “Mmm, something smells good in here!”

He peers over your shoulder at the tray of cupcakes. They’re a bit misshapen, with cracked tops that deflated the second they were taken out of the oven. The frosting is glopped on unevenly.

To you, they look absolutely mouthwatering. To Charles, they look … well, he loves you too much to say.

“Try one!” You urge, holding out a cupcake. Charles flashes you a hesitant smile before taking it. He peels back the liner and takes a bite. His eyes widen and he forces himself to chew and swallow.

“Well? How is it?” You ask eagerly.

Charles clears his throat. “It’s, uh, it’s great. Your best batch yet,” he lies. In truth, it’s dry and dense, with a strange bitter aftertaste. But the delight on your face makes the fib worth it.

You throw your arms around him in a hug. “Yay! I can’t wait to share them with the team this weekend.”

Charles’ stomach drops. The thought of the entire paddock pretending to enjoy your baking makes him cringe internally. But he plasters on a smile. “What a nice idea! I’m sure they’ll love them.”

The two of you arrive at the circuit and you can barely contain your excitement as you carry a large container of cupcakes into the paddock. Charles trails behind you, backpack slung over one shoulder, his other arm wrapped around your waist. He presses a quick kiss to your temple before you flit off to distribute your baked goods.

You first approach Max Verstappen, holding out a cupcake with rainbow sprinkles. “Here Max, have one!”

Max eyes the treat dubiously but accepts it with a polite smile. “Thanks Y/N, that’s really nice of you.”

You beam and turn to Charles, missing the look of apprehension on Max’s face. Charles catches Max’s eye and draws a finger across his throat in warning. Max’s eyes widen but he nods in understanding. Charles won’t let anything ruin your mood today.

You make your way through the paddock, handing cupcakes to mechanics, engineers, PR reps, reporters, team principals, and drivers. Charles hovers behind you, keeping a watchful eye on each recipient.

Daniel Ricciardo visibly gags on his first bite when you turn away. Charles glares and shakes his head sharply. Daniel rearranges his face into a smile and gives a thumbs up.

Lando Norris takes an overly large bite and Charles has to pound on his back as he chokes it down.

Esteban Ocon discreetly spits his cupcake into a napkin when you’re not looking. Charles lunges forward and grabs his arm, squeezing tightly until Esteban wheezes out “Delicious!”

You remain blissfully unaware of the chaos that falls over the paddock in your wake, oblivious to Charles’ desperate interventions. All you see are your friends and acquaintances enjoying your baking.

When you finally offer a cupcake to Charles, he takes it and eats the whole thing without hesitation. Because even if it tastes like sugary sawdust, the delight on your face makes it the best treat in the world.

“Wasn’t that fun?” You gush to Charles afterwards. “I can’t wait to try out a new recipe soon!”

Charles just kisses your frosting-smudged nose and says, “I can’t wait either, mon amour.” As long as you’re happy, he’ll choke down all the questionable cupcakes you offer. Because your smile is the only thing that matters.

***

The paddock is bustling with activity as you and Charles arrive for the next race weekend, yet another batch of fresh baked goods in hand. You’re eager to share your latest creations — classic chocolate chunk cookies. You spent hours carefully following the recipe, determined to get them just right.

As you make your rounds distributing cookies, the reactions are the usual mix of forced smiles and discreet spitting. Charles trails behind you, glaring at anyone who doesn’t immediately rave about how delicious they are. The drivers and mechanics quickly catch on, showering you with praise and shooting Charles grateful looks when he turns you away.

You finally offer a cookie to Graham, a mechanic from the Mercedes team. He takes it hesitantly, eyeing Charles standing behind you. But Graham is new to the paddock and unaware of the baked goods situation.

He takes a bite and immediately grimaces. “Ugh, these taste terrible!” He blurts out.

You gasp, stumbling back as if struck. Tears well up in your eyes. Charles is at your side in an instant, pulling you into a comforting hug. Over your shoulder, he shoots Graham a look of absolute rage.

Graham realizes his mistake too late, shame washing over his face. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean ...” he stammers. But you’re already pulling away from Charles and rushing off, sobbing.

Charles turns on Graham, eyes blazing. “How could you? All she ever wants to do is make others happy!” Graham cowers before him, other mechanics backing away nervously.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” Graham says miserably.

“Sorry isn’t good enough,” Charles snarls. “You stay away from her, you hear me?” Graham nods shakily. Satisfied the message is received, Charles races after you.

He finds you behind the garage, face buried in your hands. “Oh mon ange,” Charles murmurs, wrapping you in his arms. “Don’t listen to him, your cookies are perfect.”

You cling to Charles, sniffling. “I just wanted to do something nice for everyone. But I’m so horrible at baking!”

Charles tilts your chin up. “You listen to me. You have the biggest, kindest heart. It doesn’t matter if the cookies are a little, er, overdone. What matters is you put love into making them. Don’t let someone like Graham get you down.”

You smile tremulously. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best boyfriend ever?”

Charles grins. “Hmm, I don’t mind hearing it again.” Laughing through your tears, you tell him again, punctuating it with a kiss.

After ensuring you’re okay, Charles seeks out Graham. “I trust you’ll be more considerate going forward?” Graham nods meekly. “Good. But just so we’re clear, if you upset her again, you’ll be out of this paddock for good.”

The next day, the news breaks that Graham has been dismissed from the Mercedes team for “attitude issues.” You feel a bit guilty, hoping your cookies didn’t cause him to lose his job. But Charles seems strangely satisfied, so you don’t dwell on it.

From then on, Charles redoubles his efforts to protect your feelings whenever you provide baked goods. The paddock falls in line, fawning over your overly salty pretzels and dry banana bread.

The brightness of your smile makes it all worth it to Charles. Because keeping that joy and kindness shining in you is what matters most to him.

***

You step out of Charles’ Ferrari, the engine purring as he puts it in park. Taking his hand, you smile excitedly — today is another fan meetup organized by the team, and you can’t wait to connect with Charles’ supporters again.

“Are you ready, mon cœur?” Charles asks, squeezing your hand gently. His green eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at you adoringly.

“Absolutely!” You chirp, patting the large picnic basket hanging off your arm. “I made lots of treats to share today!”

Charles grins and leans in to kiss your forehead. “I’m sure they will love everything you made, as always.”

You beam, bolstered by his encouragement as you both make your way to the event. The meetup is being held in a local park, with tents and tables set up amongst the lush green grass and towering trees. You spot a long line of fans waiting eagerly for Charles’ arrival. Most are dressed in the familiar rosso corsa of Ferrari, holding posters and memorabilia for him to sign.

“Charles! Charles!” They chant excitedly when they see him. You hang back happily, letting him have his moment with his dedicated supporters. Charles takes selfies, signs autographs, and chats animatedly in Italian, French, and English. The fans are thrilled to interact with their racing idol.

After some time, Charles waves you over. “I would like you all to meet someone very special to me,” he announces, wrapping an arm around you. The fans erupt into cheers and applause. “This is Y/N, my love.”

You blush at the attention but manage to give a little wave. “Hi everyone! I’m so happy to be here today.”

Charles addresses the crowd again. “As some of you know, Y/N loves to bake and has brought some special treats to share with you all today.”

This is met with more enthusiastic cheers. Though none of them particularly enjoy your baked goods, the fans appreciate the effort and know Charles likes to reward them for humoring you.

You open up your large picnic basket, beaming with pride. “I made my favorite oatmeal raisin cookies, some lemon squares, and my famous rocky road fudge!”

The fans try not to visibly cringe, lining up politely with plates held out. You happily distribute your overly dry, burnt cookies and gooey, cloying fudge. The lemon squares are mushy and saccharine. But the fans accept it all with smiles and encouragement.

“Mmm, delicious!” One teenage girl forces out through a mouthful of your fudge.

An older man gives you a thumbs up as he chokes down a cookie, eyes watering. “So good!”

You beam, pleased that they enjoy your baking so much. As you chat with each person, you don’t notice Charles discreetly handing out autographed photos, caps, and other prized memorabilia to reward the fans for their efforts.

After you’ve handed out all your baked goods, Charles suggests a stroll through the park gardens. As you walk hand-in-hand admiring the flowers, he says softly, “You have such a big heart, Y/N. The way you care so much about connecting with the fans means the world to me.”

You squeeze his hand gratefully. “It’s the least I can do — they support you in everything, so I want to support them too.”

Charles stops and turns to you, his expression tender. “You are amazing, truly. I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He leans in and kisses you sweetly. Your heart flutters just like the first time your lips met.

When you return from your walk, the event is winding down. You say goodbye to the fans, who thank you profusely for the treats and making their day so special. You tell them you can’t wait to bake for them again soon!

After the last fan leaves, it’s just you and Charles. The late afternoon sun casts golden light on the empty picnic tables.

“Did you have fun, mon amour?” Charles asks, caressing your cheek.

“The best time!” You say enthusiastically. “I just love baking for your wonderful fans and seeing how it makes them smile.”

Charles’ eyes are full of love. He kisses the top of your head. “As long as it makes you happy, that’s all that matters to me.”

You snuggle into his chest happily. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“I don’t think so,” Charles teases. “Why don’t you remind me again?”

You grin up at him. “I’ll tell you over dinner … I have a new donut recipe I want to try out.”

Charles fights down a grimace as he reminds himself that your love is more than worth suffering through another dreadful dessert. “I can’t wait!”

***

“Mate, you have to stop her before she poisons someone,” Max whispers urgently to Charles as you step out of the room.

Charles furrows his brow. “What are you talking about?”

“Your girlfriend. Her baking. It’s … it’s just terrible. I’m sorry, but it has to be said.”

Charles lets out a dismissive chuckle. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” Max raises his eyebrows incredulously. “I chipped a tooth on her brownie last week!”

Charles rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as he avoids making eye contact.

“Look, I get that you don’t want to upset her,” Max continues, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “But we can’t keep lying and pretending it’s good! One of these days, someone is going to end up in the hospital.”

Charles sighs deeply, running a hand through his tousled hair. “What do you want me to do? If I tell her the truth, she’ll be devastated.”

You return to the room then, a bright smile on your face as you carry a plate of freshly baked apple tarts. “Who wants one?”

Max cringes almost imperceptibly while Charles shoots him a warning look. “They look great, ma belle!” He says with forced enthusiasm, taking one and bringing it to his lips.

The apple filling is gelatinous and tastes faintly of soap. Charles forces himself to swallow it with a strained smile. Max quickly declines when you offer him one.

Later that evening, Charles finds Max alone outside his apartment building. “I need your help,” he admits defeatedly.

Max looks at him expectantly.

“With Y/N’s baking … how do I get her to stop without completely crushing her?”

His friend contemplates this for a moment. “Well … you could try convincing her to take up a new hobby instead?”

Charles shakes his head. “I’ve suggested that before, but she’s dead set on baking. It’s her biggest passion.”

“Okay, then you’ll have to take a different approach.” Max strokes his chin thoughtfully. “What if … you told her a bunch of us were going vegan or something, so she couldn’t bake for us anymore?”

Charles raises an eyebrow at the suggestion, but then slowly nods. “You know, that could actually work …”

The next day, you eagerly bring a fresh batch of blueberry muffins to the paddock to share with everyone. Charles takes a deep breath before pulling you aside gently.

“Hey, can I talk to you about something?” He starts, trying to keep his expression neutral.

You blink up at him curiously. “Of course. What’s up?”

“Well …” He clears his throat. “I was talking to the guys and … Lewis has actually convinced a bunch of them to go vegan. Lando, Max …”

He lists off a dozen more names, watching as realization dawns on your face. Your shoulders slump slightly.

“Oh … I see.” You glance down at the muffins in your hands. “I guess that means I can’t really bake for them anymore.”

Charles feels a pang of guilt at the disappointment in your eyes. But then, your expression brightens again.

“I’ll just have to start baking vegan treats instead!” You declare happily. “This is so exciting, I’ve been wanting to experiment with more plant-based ingredients!”

Charles’s shoulders tense as the plan epically backfires. Of course you’d take this as an opportunity to bake even more.

Over the next few weeks, you gleefully embrace the vegan baking lifestyle. Charles has to smother his laughter when Max nearly chokes biting into one of your “chewy” vegan brownies. Lando spits out a mouthful of your gritty vegan chocolate cake when you’re not looking.

You, however, remain blissfully unaware of how dreadful your creations are. No matter how many hints Charles tries to drop, the problem only seems to be getting worse.

One evening, you set a plate of fresh-from-the-oven vegan peanut butter cookies on the coffee table, plopping down on the couch next to Charles with a proud grin.

“Try one!” You insist, picking a cookie up and holding it in front of his lips.

Charles hesitates for just a second too long. Your face falls and he scrambles to take a bite, barely suppressing a wince as he chews on what feels like a solid lump of chalk mixed with peanut shavings. He forces himself to swallow it down with an enthusiastic grin.

“Wow, these are incredible!” He lies through his teeth. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

You perk up immediately, the dejected look vanishing. “You really think so? I tried a new recipe I found online.”

“Definitely a winner,” Charles affirms, trying his best to sound convincing. “We should bring some to the paddock for everyone to try.”

Your eyes light up at the suggestion and guilt twists in Charles’s gut. The last thing he wants is for the other drivers to have to suffer through these … confections. But he could never be the one to shatter your baking dreams.

The next day at the track, you eagerly pass around the plate of peanut butter hockey pucks to the drivers and crew. Charles discreetly pulls Max aside with a pained look.

“Please, I’m begging you …” he murmurs under his breath. “Just smile and nod, no matter how bad they are.”

Max grimaces as he takes an experimental bite of one of the cookies, his expression doing little to mask his revulsion. But he meets Charles’s pleading gaze and forces out a strangled, “Mmm … great!”

One by one, the others follow suit — fake smiles and strained praises as they choke down your baked atrocities. You remain obliviously pleased, unaware of their suffering.

Over the next few weeks, the vegan baking experiments only seem to get worse and worse. The paddock has become a silent circle of culinary martyrs — all sworn to an unspoken code to preserve your feelings at all costs.

You proudly present a tray of charcoal-colored muffins that leave the entire garage coughing from the plume of burnt flour. “Tried a new recipe for dark chocolate avocado muffins!” You explain brightly.

“Can’t wait to dig in,” Lando is close to crying, his eyes already watering.

Charles has to bite back a laugh as Max takes a heroic bite, barely managing to keep it together. He pats the Dutchman on the back firmly as the poor guy fights back a gag reflex.

“Two more words about her baking and you’ll be racing with three wheels next season,” he warns Carlos in a low mutter after witnessing the Spaniard nearly vomit up a slice of your “moist” vegan zucchini bread.

The sheer willpower it takes for the entire crew to maintain the facade is almost impressive. Technique and strategy meetings have now become immense displays of unspoken fortitude — everyone driven by the simple goal of not letting you catch on that your baked goods are, in fact, completely inedible.

Charles has started bringing backup protein bars and shakes to every race just to make sure nobody accidentally lapses into baked good-induced delirium.

He really has no idea how much longer this can possibly be sustained. But he also has no idea how to safely extract the situation without demolishing your passion and self-confidence in the process.

For now, his main objective is to ensure your bright smile and cheerfulness remain unchanged — no matter how many mouths he has to personally silence to make that happen.

At the end of the day, having you by his side, radiating that infectious joy and following your heart’s desire, is worth enduring all the subpar vegan muffins in the world.

He’ll take a bite of your latest abomination with an adoring grin, because that’s what partners who truly love each other do — they support each other through the good, the bad, and the burnt-to-a-crisp.

***

It’s the start of a new season, and Charles has been racking his brain for a solution to the ongoing baking saga. As much as he loves indulging your passion, the charade is becoming increasingly difficult to maintain. The entire paddock is at their wits’ end trying to choke down your vegan torture devices week after week.

That’s when he has an idea — one he hopes will be a win-win for everyone involved.

“Surprise!” He says with an excited grin, presenting you with the envelopes. “I got us signed up for this baking course. I thought it could be fun for us to take some classes together!”

You’re beaming as you throw your arms around his neck. “That’s such a thoughtful idea! I would love nothing more.”

Of course, Charles being Charles is hardly fully forthright about his motivations. “To be honest, I’m the one who really needs the help,” he fibs sheepishly. “We all know I’m a disaster in the kitchen. But with your talents guiding me, maybe there’s hope!”

Over the next few weeks, you and Charles diligently show up for your baking classes. The instructor walks you through fundamentals like properly measuring ingredients, controlling oven temperatures, and mastering technical skills. Slowly but surely, your creations start emerging looking (and smelling) better and better.

One evening, you return home with a fresh tray of beautifully baked chocolate chip cookies — the first delicacy you’ve felt confident enough to bake since the lessons. You present them to Charles with bated breath.

He takes one tentative bite, his eyes widening in surprise. These are actually ... edible! More than edible — they are legitimately delicious! The dough-to-chip ratio is perfect, the texture is chewy but not dry or crumbly. He quickly stuffs two more into his mouth with an appreciative moan.

“Ma belle … these are incredible!” He gasps out between bites.

You clap your hands over your mouth, eyes shining with glee. “Oh my gosh, you really think so? I was so nervous!”

“Are you kidding? I could eat this entire tray all by myself!”

The two of you dissolve into celebratory laughter and hugs, the sweet taste of success quite literally on your tongues.

“I think it’s time for the real taste test,” you declare one day, rolling up your sleeves as you start prepping an array of fresh baked goods. “We’re taking these bad boys to the paddock!”

The next race weekend, you stride in carrying bakery boxes of your fresh chocolate chip cookies as well as some decadent fudge brownies.

“Fresh out of the oven!” You announce proudly, setting them down with a bright grin. “Who’s hungry?”

For a long beat, nobody moves. The drivers exchange wary glances, their self-preservation instincts kicking in as they recall the many baking debacles of the past. Lando bravely reaches for a brownie first, his face scrunched up preemptively-

Only to blink in surprise as the rich, fudgy flavor hits his taste buds. His eyes widen comically as he takes another bite. “Bloody hell ... this is actually good!”

The words seem to shatter the suspended tension. Soon the entire paddock is swarming the trays, devouring the fresh baked goods with delight. Charles watches on in disbelief, his own taste buds experiencing flavors he didn’t even know were possible from your former creations.

He sees Max take a bite of one of the cookies, freezing in place as his eyes slip closed with an expression of pure bliss. When they open again, Charles is alarmed to see they’re glistening with unshed tears.

The Dutchman wordlessly holds up the cookie, gazing at Charles reverently as a lone tear trails down his cheek. Then, to everyone’s astonishment, he brings the baked good to his lips and takes another sensual bite, savoring it like it’s the first good thing he’s ever tasted.

From then on, it’s like a switch has been flipped. The paddock that once dreaded your baking now seemingly can’t get enough of it. Every race weekend, they await your fresh creations with unrestrained enthusiasm, like kids on a sugar bender.

Charles has lost count of how many times he’s caught drivers and crew sneaking off to wherever you’re prepping the latest batch, nostrils flaring as they try to scout out that heavenly aroma.

It’s gotten to the point where Max’s performance coach has had to implement strict rules about his treat consumption to prevent indulgences from derailing his season.

“Easy there, Max!” Rupert calls in a booming tone, swooping in to physically restrain the Dutchman as he makes a mad dash toward where you’re unpacking that week’s fresh delivery. “You know you have a limit on those.”

Max strains against his performance coach’s grip, eyes zeroing in on the platter of goodies being unloaded with unrestrained longing. “I don’t care, she brought triple chocolate cookie dough brownies this time! Let me go!”

Rupert grunts in exertion, struggling to keep his driver in check. “This is for your own good! Think of your diet!”

“That’s irrelevant!” Max practically snarls, pupils blown wide like an addict suffering from withdrawals. “Do you have any idea how long I waited to have real baked goods again?”

It’s a battle of wills and metabolism that quickly becomes a weekly sight. Charles can’t help but chuckle fondly as he watches Max and Rupert’s familiar tug-of-war happen like clockwork every Sunday.

As much as he’d love to intervene, he knows better than to come between Max and your heavenly baked creations. He’s just thrilled that this baking journey took such a delicious turn — both for your invigorated culinary passion and for the safety of everyone’s tastebuds.

Honestly, he’ll take the sight of a feverish Max drooling over freshly baked goods any day over having to choke down burnt muffins and brittle biscuits. This is the sweet upgrade everyone had been dreaming about.

The true recipe for happiness was sticking by each other’s side through all those halfbaked stumbles.

[youryanderedaddy]

Dark Is The Night

Summary: A late night encounter with a patroling soldier changes the trajectory of his life - and, unfortunately, yours too.

tw: female reader, obsessive behavior, non - consensual touching, threats, thoughts of non - con, mention of war, patronizing behavior, slight misogyny, hinted kidnapping

All he could think about was you.

It was a damp linden night, one of the very few old fashioned ones - as if time itself had stopped. The old colonel was laughing in short sharp breathes, skin spotting in red along with his sweaty neck, tearing into a letter he had received this very morning. The young soldiers were all over the tavern - some crying, some cheering over a beer and calling each glass their last, losing themselves in the rich foam that covered their fresh military mustaches. Christoph was alone, though.

He had no wife to write back to - no home to call his own, no friends or family to celebrate his final battle with. He also wasn't a rookie - so he couldn't drink himself blind in the pursuit of ideals, of empty promises of greatness to come. Truth was, his troops had won their fair share of battles, and today they had signed a treaty that would certainly benefit the district - the one he had lost his youth fighting for. He knew the capital would attempt at invasion, those greedy fucks wanted to bite more than they could chew - but that was no longer his problem. Today his contract ended. Today he was a free man.

And yet.

And yet all he could think about was you.

It was funny - he had spent more nights than he could remember wishing he could burn this half - dead village to the ground, all together with the maidens and the elderly still stick fending for themselves after the war. He presumed he'd be doing everyone a favor - he'd rid himself of the memories that haunted his dreams, and they wouldn't have to suffer any longer, not when all that winter would bring once again was even more hunger and decay.

After all, the victory changed nothing. The starving populace wouldn't starve anymore - it would simply die, having lost fathers, sons, daughters, farmers, merchants, healers. Nothing less than the very foundation of society. So maybe it would be far less cruel, far more humane, to burn everything and let them die with dignity.

But then you too would burn with the miserable souls of the damned. The man pictured it all - your beautiful skin still damp from the rain blistering in red and orange, and eventually black, those gems of yours trembling beneath your long eyelashes as the smoke swallowed your last breath.

The thought made Christoph irrationally angry - jealous even. Not only because he just imagined you dying, but because it was someone, something else stealing your final moment from him. Something else bruising your skin and forcing your lips to swell, something else causing you pain and suffering. No, he couldn't let you die. Not like this.

He couldn't help but recall your first meeting two years ago. Unbeknownst to you he had memorized it, citing each line by heart - envisioning it in his memory over and over each time he needed an escape, an outlet. The soldier wasn't one for softness, never one to dream and hope - but deep down he knew that this simple encounter had swayed the bullets. It had made him grip his rifle just a bit closer, made the biting wind just a bit warmer. He was a killing machine undeserving of humanity - yet you had saved him without even realizing it.

It was a cold winter night - quite opposite to this one, in the middle of Hell. The county your village was part of had been surrounded for a few weeks. Food was running low, and even clean water was scarce. All the men had been displaced a long time ago, sent off to fight in the eastern territories. Christoph was stuck at the Iron hills, a region so poor they didn't even bother to send additional armies to. If it lost, it lost. It held no special resources, no cultural or economic significance, no sea or forest roads to profit off of. All in all, no one wanted to serve here. No one but him.

Not that Christoph was too fond of the hills - it was more so that he didn't care where he was going to die. Whether it was on the eastern front, the western or even on the other side of the ocean, it didn't matter. And he had made peace with that fact - but before death took a toll on him, he was going to earn enough buck to buy good cigarettes for once in his miserable life. With real tobacco, none of that cheap imported trash they sold in his hometown.

And that's exactly how fate let him meet you. He was patrolling the border bridge late into the night - a thick cigar in hand (a parting gift from the general Murphy), humming to an old melody he couldn't quite remember the name of. He was alone that night - his friend had been injured so he needed to rest. The man was trying to stay alert, although the fatigue had long settled in between his tired bones and it refused to let go. The lack of sleep and the sheer paranoia was making him jumpy, ready to point his gun at the slightest of sound. He almost shot you that night.

"Colonel." You had whispered through gritted teeth, slowly raising your hands up as you approached him with a hesitant step. He blinked twice, unsure if he was still awake. Surely there was no way a young woman was out alone so late during wartime. "Colonel!" You repeated, putting a bit more force into your otherwise soft, calm voice. This seemed to snap him out of his trance and he finally raised his head to look at you, his sharp, intense gaze measuring you up from top to bottom. Just like a predator seizing his pray, like a soldier trained to keep his eyes on the target, he knew no other way to introduce himself other than with a silent, unspoken threat.

"A bit young to be calling me that, no?" The man snapped back, voice coming out more raspy than he intended - but it was hardly his fault. He rarely had visitors nowadays - no one wanted to expose themselves to the front lines, to risk becoming smoked meat, which meant he had little opportunity for chatter. So his voice had become rough - almost unnecessary cruel.

"I'm sorry." You mumbled, blurry eyes focused on the weapon resting oh - so snuggly against the soldier's heart as if guarding it. "I'm not familiar with your many titles, sir." You explained with a certain bite. Christoph squinted, growing amused at your little jab, yet the black mask covering his mouth hid it from you. The man knew exactly what you meant. You were not used to so much surveillance on your step - on everyone's step, so many eyes set on you as if you had a massive red target on your back. You were not used to armed forces ghosting around your small homely village with a gun resting at an arm's length just waiting to be loaded.

He wondered if it was your first time running into a soldier since the beginning of the occupation. He wondered if you were scared - if your heart was beating against your chest like it was trying to break through the skin. After all he was indeed intimidating - with heavy combat boots and a black uniform that did little to hide his rough figure, the lineage of lean muscle and battered blistered skin that undoubtedly belonged to a man. A man whose hands were still covered in dirt and blood. He could kill you. He could push you around - get some entertainment out of you. He could shove you down and use you like a cheap village whore - and no one would care because that's just how war is. He was serving his country, he needed an outlet, and you just happened to be there. No one would blame him.

He couldn't bring himself to come closer to you. He didn't trust himself to hold back when faced with something so fragile after months of letting his fists and his teeth do the speaking.

"That's lieutenant to you, miss." He barked in a tone that felt familiar - a tone that used to wake him up every morning at 5 for weeks on end. A tone that he could still hear every time he loaded his rifle and let go of the trigger with shaking fingers.

He couldn't be nice to you. He couldn't be nice to anyone in this bloodshed. And yet he heard himself asking you for your name. It hadn't meant anything - it was a long night and he was bored. Lonely, maybe, he couldn't tell his feelings apart very well. You hesitated for a second too long before you finally gave him a clear answer. It was the most beautiful sound he had heard - not just now, but ever.

"Would you mind explaining why you're here so late, miss?" The man tilted his head, trying to understand your unreadable expression - somehow you looked lost in time, striken by fear and grievance. "I believe the general gave direct orders this morning. No one should be out after ten." He paused to take a long, dramatic puff off his cigar. "It's too dangerous. Especially for a pretty little thing like you to be roaming at night." He knew his boldness was making you uneasy, and that he shouldn't derive such obvious pleasure from your discomfort, but he just couldn't help it. He was lonely. He was sick. And most of all, he was a bastard who had already given up on life. He had nothing to lose.

"Truth be told, if you were mine I wouldn't let you out of sight, miss." He grinned, feeling just a bit disgusted with himself. He wasn't sure why, but he wanted to scare you. To creep you out so bad you'd never go out alone again. Why he had got so invested so quickly, he also couldn't tell.

"I... I needed a breath of f-fresh air, l-leutenant." You responded quickly, eager to leave this conversation as soon as possible - completely ignoring anything he said. Your initial confidence had evaporated as the wet cold crept into your thin coat. It didn't fit your frame - it was too big on you and it reeked of a man's first proper cologne. The thought of it filled the soldier with unreasonable, hot -red fury, imagining you next to some nameless brat with his hands wrapped around you.

"That's all?" The corners of his lips stretched mockingly as he let his smoke blow into your face - and you had to fight the urge to immediately wave it off.

"Are you, are you implying something, sir?" You fiddled with your fingers nervously, looking anywhere but at Christoph. He found it pathetically adorable. "Just curious." He took another long puff - his breath coming out frozen - white as it hit the icy air. "You don't seem like the brave type to me." His eyes narrowed to two pitch black slits. He must have looked terrifying to you in that moment, and he loved it. "So just what-" He pulled you in by the collar. "Are you doing here, huh?"

You froze in place as if he had pointed his gun to you yet again. You swallowed loudly, trying to come up with an explanation - but nothing came to mind when you were so obviously scared. The soldier could feel your heartbeat - he could hear the blood pumping to your ears as you looked around hopelessly for help that wouldn't come. And just like that the wolf had the rabbit dancing in its own trap.

"Are you just looking for trouble, hmm?" The man reached in to curl his finger around one of your loose locks. He didn't want to make you feel so awfully small - but everything about this situation, from the tremble of your lips to the sheer panic in your eyes was going straight to his cock. "I'm sure that with a face like that you never lacked attention, no?" He tilted his head with predatory malice. "But now all the men bending over backwards for you are off somewhere, dying as we speak. Poor little you - I can imagine just how lonely you are." He pressed his body closer to yours. "The thing is, I am more than willing to play with you in their pl-"

"Please, lieutenant." You couldn't stand to listen to him any longer, a thousand warm pleas already falling off your desperate lips. "Please let me go." Your eyes softened, trying to hide the first sign of hot wet tears. "I need to go home to my siblings. I need to bring them fo-"

"Why should that matter to me, dollface?" It was his turn to interrupt you - voice full of childish glee as he kept up with his petty torment.

"Because - because," You started off, hands shaking into little fists that you knew, realistically, could do the soldiers no damage were you to push against his chest. "Because you're a good man." You mumbled after a while, looking for the right words to say. "And I know that deep down you're kind and brave. That's why you're here now, fighting for all our lives."

You were such a pretty liar, Christoph thought. He could listen to your sugary sweet fairytales all night long, silently praying that they'd become true if he was only able to capture his own little fairy - his own miracle.

"What if I am not the hero, doll?" The man whispered darkly in response, leaning against you until your back hit the tree behind you, trapping you between his stiff body and the pillar. "What if I am here for all the wrong reasons, huh? Just think about it." He lowered his head so it would match your eye level - you were so quiet he wondered if you had forgotten how to breath.

"We're in the middle of nowhere. I have a weapon and a direct permission to shoot at will. I can do whatever the fuck I want." He made sure you could hear every single word clearly. He wouldn't let you faint before he was through with you. "I can fuck you right here in the open - or I can drag you to the barracks and keep you there for as long as I need to. Do you really think anyone would care about some insignificant girl going missin-"

"Please." You repeated, suddenly getting stirn with your pleading, as if you too had nothing to lose. "Let me go - I'd do anything."

His eyes darkened - then lit up with sick, perverse desire. He wanted to echo your words back to you just like a classical villain would - to really drive the point across that he was out for blood. Anything, you say? Anything at all? But he couldn't contain his excitement enough to voice those sadistically banal thoughts. Besides, he could already feel the adrenaline running through his whole body. His heart was beating rhythmically, pumping and alive for the first time in days, weeks, months. He wanted you more than anything. It was that moment he knew he was going to live - he was going to fight and win, and then come back for you as a hero. As your hero, even if in your eyes he would be more of a villain.

A nightmare you'd try to forget - and just when you think you have erased his fingertips off your waist, your face, your neck, he'd come back to steal you away forever.

"Kiss me." Christoph all but snarled, some unfamiliar, needy - greedy ball of emotion settling into his loins as your delicate face twisted into a petrified grimace. You began trembling in his arms, looking around yet again. It was pitch black, no soul in sight. You inhaled deeply, trying to steady your movement to no avail. "A-alright. I-I..." You whispered with difficulty as if simply saying the words was causing you a great deal of pain. And maybe it was, but the soldier could care less. He already knew you were made for him - made to serve him, made to make him happy. "I'll d-do it."

The man growled in satisfaction, taking a small step back. You looked at him, puzzled - your confused face was just as cute as your scared one. He couldn't wait to explore all your reactions - the way you'd squirm and writhe underneath him as he fucked into you restlessly, filling you up with his love over and over again until you were crying for mercy. But that had to wait, he had a war to fight. For now he could settle for a little taste of you to keep him warm during the cold nights. And just like that he tapped his lips, guiding you silently. You felt your cheeks heat up once you finally understood what he meant by that. He wasn't going to kiss you. He wanted you to put in the work.

Your eyes filled up with tears, and you felt silly for becoming so upset over a little kiss - but this was your first kiss, and you had to give it to a monster. It was certainly better than the alternative, with the alternative being rape in a filthy military cottage, but it still made you feel dirty all over. Yet, you had no choice. You took a step towards the man - you could feel the suffocating warmth radiating off his body towards yours, and if the situation wasn't so grim, you might have been grateful for another human's heat in the freezing cold. But now all you could feel was dread.

You stood on your tip toes, a shaky hand reaching out to cup the stranger's face. Cristoph smirked, complecent at your obedience. You licked your lips and slowly, hesitantly pressed them against his, just barely touching at all.

He groaned, unable to keep his hands to himself any longer. He grabbed you and pulled you in roughly, squeezing you like a plush toy. He deepened the kiss, forcing his tongue deep into your mouth, finding heaven between your soft, sweet lips and broken whimpers. You were so innocent. So lost. He wanted to take you into his arms and never let go. He wanted to keep kissing you until your lips turned blue, until it hurt to speak.

And then you pushed him off just like that, using your own body as a distraction. He tripped backwards, too shocked and lost in sensation to stop you. He smiled at your final act of defiance. It was, of course, adorable and so painfully you, yet it didn't really matter - not in the long run. You had only suceeded in making him want you more.

But that was two years ago. Now the war was finally over. Now he had enough to start a new life. Now he was a free man.

And he was coming back for you.

[01zfan]

delusional | j. sc

ex-bf!sungchan x fem!reader | 5k words

this was originally a request but i lost my mind somewhere along the way. i hope this is to your liking

contains: weed smoking, consensual high sex, unprotected sex, cheating, sungchan is lowkey toxic till he meets his match. basically you and ur ex are in the middle of an idgaf war.

“i can’t believe she hangs out with him now.” sungchan points from his lunch tray to you and the man you’re walking with. 

sungchan would’ve never taken you for the type to date someone after him. sungchan had that thought with all of his girlfriends. eventually the girls would move on and each time sungchan would be flabbergasted. how could any of his exes ever find someone that would put up with their attitude, pay for everything, and fuck them like he did? sungchan would always be the one to end things, making girls crawl back to ask him to be on their roster. he would always oblige of course, all of his exes were gorgeous and amazing in bed. but he just was never ready for commitment.

you were different from them. when sungchan gave you the same rehearsed lines he told the girls before you, all you did was shrug your shoulders. you didn’t beg him to stay, or ask what you did wrong. you didn’t try to bargain, which is what the girls usually did first. instead you just left his dorm and never came back. sungchan waited by his phone for your desperate late night text or a sobbing voicemail. it never came. he even embarrassingly waited after one of your classes to see you disheveled, not caring about your appearance after going through such a hard breakup. but you were shining and smiling, dressed well. sungchan ignored the pang he felt in his chest when he saw how happy you looked. that pang, however was quickly replaced with anger when he saw your new boy toy trailing behind you.

“she’s always been friends with haechan.” eunseok doesn’t even have to look behind him to know who sungchan is talking about. you and your lab partner have been the topic of every conversation since he saw you two together last week. without even meaning to, sungchan found a way to incorporate you and your new boyfriend into every conversation.

“they were always in the same group, there’s a difference. now he follows her like a fucking lost puppy everywhere on campus.” sungchan sets his food to the side.

“he’s lost his appetite.” shotaro laughs and eunseok has to hide his smile behind another bite of food.

“i’m full.” sungchan said, dropping his fork on his plate. his two friends are no help in consoling him. he sees them try and hold their composure, to take him seriously. sungchan has of course brought girls over to their shared apartment. shotaro and eunseok bared witness to the steady stream of women sungchan surrounded himself with. when they’d bring them up in conversation, sungchan always had to be reminded of which girl they were talking about.

“oh the girl from biology? yeah she was crazy.” sungchan said nonchalantly, clicking through shows on netflix.

shotaro and eunseok have told sungchan multiple times that he was the problem. they even made a rule where sungchan could no longer bring over girls. the pair were confused when you started popping around the apartment in the daytime. usually sungchan had his sexcapades at night, trying to sneak his girls out in the morning before his roommates woke up. but suddenly you were there and sungchan would bring you up, not needing any reminders on who you were.

eunseok covers his mouth with his hand trying to hide his laugh.

“oh it’s real serious.” eunseok says.

shotaro joins in. sungchan looked at you and your new man. you two were coming towards his table. sungchan straightened his posture and cleared his throat. shotaro and eunseok looked behind them. when they saw you two coming towards the table they turned back to sungchan wide eyed and tight lipped, still holding back laughs.

sungchan shot them a look that said behave, but you walked by them like it was nothing. you barely spared a glance in his direction. you had a certain pride in your walk, or maybe it was a bounce brought on by not having to carry your books. haechan trailed behind you, holding your things underneath his tray. sungchan wanted to scoff at haechan–to laugh at him for becoming your errand boy. until sungchan remembers you having him the same way. he held everything of yours. sungchan would take them from your hands wordlessly, he hated seeing you carry things when his hands were free. but that was different from haechans’ situation. he did it in a chivalrous gentlemanly way. haechan did it in a pathetic and desperate way. 

you sat with haechan at a table in the back corner. sungchan recognized your friends, but he couldn’t name them. maybe they were your other friends. why would you let haechan meet your friends so fast? it took you months before you let sungchan meet your friends.

“that’s tough dude.” shotaro said.

“real tough.” eunseok agreed.

although shotaro and eunseok were talking to him, sungchan wasn’t looking at them. he was too busy looking at how you were sitting next to haechan. whatever someone said made you laugh. nobody is more funny than him so why were you laughing so hard? you had your hand on haechan’s shoulder and pinched it. the same thing you used to do to him. sungchan wanted to get up and go over to your table. he was starting to feel like he didn’t even exist to you anymore. then you looked at him.

you leaned back in the chair and locked eyes with sungchan. he was expecting you to look away, the way girls would look away when he caught them staring. instead you held eye contact, your look was neutral. sungchan’s eyes widened and now he was the one compelled to look away. when you waved at him, it took less than a second for sungchan to wave back. sungchan half expected you to start crawling over to him, refusing to stand your ground any longer. but you just look at him and smirk, going back to your conversation. 

“she’s got you good.”  shotaro said.

“real good.” eunseok said.

sungchan gave his friends the most intense glare of his life. this had no effect on the two while they continued to eat their food. he didn’t even get to tell his friends the worst part of it all. you had made your instagram a private account and locked down your twitter. you were hiding yourself, locking your heaven away from your snooping ex. sungchan wanted the ability to still look at your face and see your thoughts, but it was no longer possible. eunseok and shotaro would just tell him he’s lucky you didn’t block him, but sungchan wondered if blocking would’ve been better for his peace of mind. soft blocking and removing him from everything was like putting you just out of reach from him. you being so close but so far away made sungchan the most desperate he’s ever felt. it was sick, but late at night he would wonder if the girls he broke up with felt the way he did.

after eunseok and shotaro were done eating, sungchan was finally able to leave. he couldn’t leave without his friends walking beside him. that would only make him look more like a loser. so now sungchan walked behind his friends, trying to seem as cool and mysterious and nonchalant as possible while he walked by your table. sungchan felt someone’s eyes on him and he hoped they were yours.

sungchan went on the rest of his day with you on his mind. he kept waiting for a follow request, a text, an email, anything. he just kept thinking about how annoying it was that you weren’t feining for his attention like all his girls before you. sungchan passed by your dormitory on his way home. he looked up the tall archaic building, staring at what he believed to be your window. he thought about the nights he would spend there when your roommate was gone. 

sungchan remembered being cuddled up to you underneath your sheets. he liked when you made him be the little spoon. sungchan would always protest but he loved feeling you behind him and your arms around his large frame. he wondered if you made haechan be the little spoon too. he wondered if haechan was sleeping in your bed while you did your homework. he thought about you sleepily climbing up the ladder of your lofted bed to see him waiting for you. sungchan couldn’t stop thinking about your new man curled up next to you. he wondered if your hands drifted over haechan’s body while he felt you up. before sungchan could get a hold of his thoughts, he was opening the door to your building.

your RA didn’t even look up from her desk when sungchan came in. he went to the hallway your room was in and walked down the hallway. 

sungchan used to be proud that he knew his way around this all girl dormitory. he thinks about the hushed whispers of girls sneaking him in, or reading directions off his phone. he couldn’t tell you were half those girls’ rooms were now, but he still remembered yours.

sungchan stood in front of your door. he couldn’t bring himself to knock. sungchan knew he stuck out like a sore thumb. anyone opening the door would question him, and he could get in big trouble if the RA found him wandering the halls of the all girls housing like a ghost. but sungchan didn’t care. he suddenly felt antsy, imagining you on the other side of the door. before he could knock, his phone started going off in his back pocket. maybe it was divine intervention. sungchan grabbed his phone and nearly dropped it when your photo and caller ID took up the whole screen. 

he quickly looked around the dorm hallway, completely empty except for him. did he know you were here? did your RA let you know your crazy ex who is completely over you was waiting outside your door? 

sungchan started tiptoeing down the hallway through a back entrance where he wouldn’t have to see the RA. he didn’t answer your ring until he was in the courtyard outside of your building.

“hello?” sungchan was out of breath. he pulled the bottom of his phone away from his mouth. he had to seem as unaffected as possible.

“were you working out or something?” 

“why are you calling me?” sungchan mustered all of his strength to sound curt, but he was walking around in circles with a hand in his pocket. he kicked a rock around with a smile on his face as he heard you thinking on the other end of the line.

“i left my pipe at your place.”

“i gave it to eunseok.” sungchan says. which is partially true, he gave your glass pipe to his friend for safe keeping.

“can you bring it to me?”

sungchan wanted to tease you for reaching out to him first. he was no idiot, he knew that the pipe was just an excuse to call him. 

“what’s in it for me?” sungchan asks.

“maybe i’ll let you inside my apartment so you don’t have to wait outside my door like a fucking stalker.”

sungchan hangs his phone up immediately. how’d you know he was outside your door? he thinks back to your RA, how she looked kind of familiar. realization hit sungchan like a freight train when he recognized the RA as one of your closest friends. despite his embarrassment, sungchan was ecstatic to get a semi invitation into your apartment again. so he ran the half mile to get to his apartment.

sungchan was grateful that neither of his roommates were home. he was in and out in a flash, stealing a joint from eunseok’s collection. he left a ten in the place of the joint, and a text for the pipe that he was going to run to his ex like an errand boy. this was so unlike him, to be at someone beck and call. but he couldn’t help it, not when he was thinking about being in the warmth of your apartment.

sungchan walked back into your dorm the same way he did prior, this time the RA was staring him down. he gave a wave, trying to save face. sungchan was sure they were laughing at him in whatever groupchat you had, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

when he knocked at your door, you left him waiting. when you finally opened it, your eyes went to the pipe and the joint first.

sungchan walked into your dorm. it felt like a century since he had seen your place. 

“you can sit down. you look like you ran a mile.” you say, shutting and locking the door behind you.

sungchan obliges, he was tired from running around campus doing your bidding. when he sits at your desk he sees various weed paraphernalia, ranging from a vape to a bong. he sees a miniature pipe. before he can chide you for having too much stuff, you come to him with two cups of water.

“get on the bean bag instead.”

sungchan got up a little too quickly from your desk to sit on the bean bag. it was next to your seat but a lower. his long legs had to be bent so he could sit up right. he felt your shag rug underneath his feet. it was soft and he picked at it with his hand.

“is this new?” sungchan pointed at your shag while you packed the bowl.

“present.” you said simply. sungchan wanted to trace over the slight frown you had from concentration.

“it’s soft. i like it.” sungchan says.

you look up from packing the bowl and smirk.

“haechan picked out the color.”

sungchan tried his best to control his expression but he couldn’t help frustration that flashed across his face. you basked in him trying to show you he didn’t care. he was really too easy. you put the bowl into the bong and prepped yourself.

“your RA just let me walk in, you know. she should be fired.” sungchan laughed.

“you know she’s my roommate right? she saw you come in and texted me.” you say matter of factly. atleast sungchan was right thinking he knew her from somewhere.

“you ready?” sungchan held his lighter to the base of the bong, ready to ignite the bud sitting in the bowl. he wasn’t normally this chatty when smoking a girl out, but he found himself wanting to say as many words to you as possible.

with your lips to the mouthpiece you nodded, and sungchan lit the left side of the bowl. it was something random he remembered about you, how you always said the left side was the best side. you looked at sungchan and smiled. he could feel you looking at him and had to clear his throat to stop himself from smiling. he was too easy sungchan thought. maybe him and haechan weren’t so different after all.

you took the hit from the bong like a champ, breathing in the smoke till the pipe was clear. once you pulled away, you sucked in an extra puff of air, to really get it in your lungs. 

“attagirl.” sungchan said softly as he watched your chest raise up, staying there for a moment. you let the air out, staring at sungchan as you did so. he looked a little different. was he wearing a different shirt than when you saw him in the dining hall?

eventually the hits started getting to you. you considered yourself lucky to be a lightweight when it came to weed. just from two bong hits and the joint you felt floaty. you looked at sungchan’s hooded and bleary eyes, wondering if yours looked the same.

“you still smoke?” you asked sungchan. he nodded, holding back a cough while he handed you the joint.

“taro and eunseok rubbed off on me. i don’t do it as much as i used too though.”

“eunseok rolls the best joints. thank him for me.” you cough after taking another hit. you were definitely high now.

“how do you know eunseok rolled this?” sungchan looked at the joint in his hand. he was pretty high already and he could tell you were too. his tolerance had been lowered since you two stopped seeing eachother. sungchan now only smoked when his two roommates did. 

he held up the ashtray to you. you took in one last drag then knocked off the ash. it was half gone, but that’s more than enough for you to enjoy later. instead of answering sungchan’s question, you motioned for him to come in front of you. he obeyed you almost immediately, sitting in front of you. you bent over until your mouth was ghosting over his. focusing on his lips, you slowly pushed the smoke cloud into sungchan’s mouth. he took all of it while looking directly into your eyes. his eyes were open so wide you could see his sclera was red and bloodshot. when his hands reached up, you put your hands on his shoulders. it stopped him from reaching up to your face and pulling you in for a kiss, the thing he’d always do when you two smoked together. sungchan instead let his hands rest on your knees. when all the smoke was out of your mouth you pulled away like nothing happened.

“he put mullein in here. to help with the irritation and everything.” you handed the joint to sungchan for the final time. he put out the joint and placed it in a small plastic cylindrical container. 

sungchan knew that you put your weed in the tiny wooden box that was next to him on the rug. he had seen you do it a million times before. but sungchan also knew he needed to feel you in his space while you leaned over him to get to the box. so he handed the container to you, and you entered his orbit smelling like vanilla and something else, maybe something new that you put in your hair. you linger there for a moment and he’s tempted to lean in and kiss your cheek, to pull you on top of him. sungchan has to close his eyes when you put your hand on his knee to push off of to get in a comfortable position back in your chair.

after you placed the joint in the desk, you leaned fully into your comfortable chair, feeling like you were going to become one with the cushion. you looked at sungchans’ hand, that had moved up from your knee to your thigh. thought about tracing the veins on his hand. you thought about putting your hand on his and dragging it further up your leg. you were definitely high now.

“that’s nice of him.” sungchan pretended like he remembered what the hell you guys were talking about. “should we open your window?”

“just stay right here.” you said, leaning even more into the chair. sungchan let his hand trace shapes on your thigh. 

you try to think about how cruel it is of your ex to breakup with you and expect you to come crawling back. sungchan’s reputation preceded him, you had been warned about his behavior. you try to think about how he loved you and left you fast, trying to remember what you did wrong. instead all you can think about it why you stuck around for as long as you did. you try not to think about how nice it would feel to fuck him on your new shag rug.

“i’m guessing your roommate won’t be back for awhile?” sungchan has a look that sends shivers up your spine. you nod.

“haechan is coming over in like thirty minutes.” you add. 

“you gonna cancel on him?” sungchan’s hand creeps higher and higher up your leg. 

you get off the chair, pushing it out of the way and you sit in front of sungchan, looking him in the eye.

“no, i’m telling you that you have thirty minutes.”

almost instantly, sungchan pulls you closer to him. your hands find his chest, fisting the fabric of his tee that is keeping you from seeing his abs. you clumsily find the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up for him to get the hint. 

sungchan pulls away from you to take his shirt off. it’s thrown somewhere in the room and he pushes back into you, lips finding yours quickly. usually when you guys had high sex it was different. it wouldn’t be any less intense than it was currently—with sungchan pulling your pants down and pushing your bra up to reveal your boobs—just slower. if sungchan wasn’t under a time constraint he would’ve loved to draw out your pleasure, making you cry out his name for your whole building to hear. he wanted to spend the day kissing you, leaving marks on all your body parts he hasn’t been able to see. to make you come crawling back to him, to beg him for more. but now he had to settle for a quickie before your new boyfriend came knocking at your door.

sungchan pushes you down to lay on the shag rug. your bottoms and shirt are gone, only leaving you in a sports bra that is pulled down. you see your ex do a once over of your body. you don’t know if it’s because of your high but it takes forever until sungchan touches you. it's just one finger and a light touch. he drags his finger from the valley of your breasts all the way down to your navel. you’re twitching just from this, brought on by a certain horniness only weed gives you. your gasp is depraved and desperate as sungchan spreads your legs by your thighs.

“you fucking haechan now?” sungchan asks. he looks up from you from between your legs. you want to push his head down, so he will shut up with his stupid jealousy and do what you called him here to do. you prop yourself up by your shoulders to look at him.

“if i am, it's none of your business.” you bend your knees, debating on closing your thighs around sungchan’s head.

“that’s a yes?” sungchan kisses the soft skin of your thighs. he looks you in your eyes as he sucks harshly on your skin. “there’s no way he is fucking you right.”

you let out a sigh and lean your head back.

“oh yeah?” you say, trying to egg him on. sungchan was always chatty during sex but the jealousy dripping from every sentence made you squirm.

“there’s no way he knows how you like it. or how to handle you” sungchan kisses your clit. you hate how affectionate he’s being with you, especially after breaking up with you. like he’s still your boyfriend or something. you move your hand to the back of his head and lightly push him into your heat.

“you’re wasting time.” you say lightly. sungchan looks at the digital clock next to your bed. he ducks his head into your heat, instantly getting to work. you let your body rest on the shag again. already you feel like you’re losing your mind. as much as you hated to admit it, you weren’t getting fucked the way you needed to. having sungchan in between your legs devouring you made you realize how depraved you really were. the weed in your system also made every sensation feel new and exciting. you were moaning, body lifting off the bed when sungchan started fucking you with his tongue. when he picked up your bottom half to bring even closer to him, you were done for. within five minutes, sungchan pulled from you with slick covering the bottom half of his mouth.

“such a good girl for me.” sungchan said to your lower half, leaving one final kiss. sungchan moved his body up yours. before he could give you a kiss, you flipped over, sticking your ass in the air. you decided he doesn’t get the privilege to kiss you in between moments of intimacy.

“so mean to me baby. after i just made you cum too.” sungchan fake pouted as he took off his pants. you said nothing back to him. when sungchan returned behind you, he roughly pulled you back so your ass was touching his dick. when he was high, sungchan’s intrusive thoughts always won. that’s why he started slapping your ass with his dick, fixated on how your ass jiggled with each hit. 

“i haven’t fucked any girls since we broke up.” sungchan murmured. he was moving your ass around now. you were so pliant for him while simultaneously refusing to give him the validation of being your ex. he wanted you more than anything.

“you don’t have to wear a condom.”

“awww you won’t give haechan any pussy? still hung up on your ex or somethin’?” sungchan’s hands rested on your ass. he tried to sound indifferent as he teased you, but hearing that news made him undeniably happy. haechan wishes he could see you like this. 

sungchan slowly spread you out one last time. he held his dick in his hand and summoned all the spit he had in his dry mouth. after a glob of spit landed on his length, he did a few quick pumps. when he slid into you, you both let out prolonged whimpers and moans. something about the way you were already clenching around him made him dig his teeth into his lip.

when he was fully inside of you, sungchan moved one hand to the small of your back to press you down. his other hand spread your thighs more so he could slot in between him. with each movement, you sucked in a little bit of air. you purposely clenched around him just to revel in the fact that he was inside of you completely. sungchan slowly pulled out just to go back in just as slow. you reached out a hand to him and he held your hand, pinning it against your back.

sungchan could barely control himself as he looked at you in your current state. your walls fluttering around his dick while you had a vice grip on your rug. he thought about how you had such a pretty backside while he ran his hand down your spine. sungchan wanted to say he missed this view, that he missed you. instead he gave your ass a light smack.

“still as big as you remember?” sungchan smirked. you clenched around him again. he was obsessed with teasing you in bed. you always would react to whatever he’d say and he loved the fact that you had a mouth on you too.

“i’ve had bigger.” you say, biting your lip to hold back a moan. sungchan gives you another slap.

“i think she disagrees.” he says while picking up his speed. “i can barely move she’s holding me so tight.”

sungchan looked at the clock again. he had about ten minutes. it was strange how time passed when he was having fun. he wanted to get lost in you, but he had to focus on making you feel as much as he could in the next ten minutes. he moved a hand down to your clit. he rubbed slow circles. he laughed because it was hard to multitask, the weed making his brain fuzzy.

“what’s so funny?” you moaned. you tried to sound rude but the spot that sungchan was hitting made you fold. before you knew it you were rocking your hips back into him, whimpers falling from your lips.

“just wanna make you feel good, baby. i can tell you haven’t done this in awhile.” sungchan said. he was starting to get lost in the feeling of you too.

“thank you.” you moaned. you had no control over what you were saying and thinking anymore. the slapping of skin and moans filled the room and the view of sungchan fucking you filled your mind.

“such a sweetheart.” sungchan intertwined your fingers with his. 

he gripped your hand tightly, increasing his speed. you were at his mercy, other hand searching for something to stabilize your body. you tightened your grip on his hand. sungchan leaned over, pushing you down to a position that had him hitting deeper than before. you turned to jelly underneath him, moaning louder than before. he brought a hand over your mouth while he brought his lips to your ear.

“you hear that?” sungchan said, biting your earlobe. you didn’t have to listen hard to hear the squelching. the lewd wet sound filled your ears. “she’s saying she misses me.” sungchan smiled against your ear. him talking to you like that had you seeing stars, whole body on fire.

“i’m gonna cum.” you say, muffled behind his hand. sungchan understood you perfectly, cooing to you while he picked up the pace of his hips and fingers.

you came undone while sungchan sucked on your neck. he continued his ministration on your clit as you said his name in broken cries. sungchan came shortly after you clenched around him. his thrusts went from hard and slow, trying to give his all to you. he continued to thrust even after you were both done with your high, enjoying the overstimulation. when he was done he didn’t pull out, but instead collapsed on top of you.

you let him stay like that. it felt nice being surrounded by sungchan again. his body was sweaty and warm against yours, and his arms wrapped around you made you feel secure. even though you could feel yourself getting crushed, you reveled in it. this would be the last time in your life you’d ever see sungchan so you let him stay like that, even after hearing knocks on your door.

[spdrvyn]

i'll be lonely with you — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: with the passage of time and whispers from your acquaintances at the spider society HQ, you've found out that your boss has a habit of sneaking out of his office during the dead hours of night to eat dinner. completely alone.

NOTES: new formatting for fics !!! do you guys like it? :3 i decided to include summaries that way it would be easier for people to understand the general jist of the plot without me spewing nonsense in the notes. anyways enjoy !!!!! thanks for the support on my recent works as well ^_^

You didn't consider yourself the most introverted person.

Even when it came to hundreds of Spider-people, you tried to get to know who you could and become acquainted with as many of them as possible. How could you not?

However, there were few that you knew on a more personal level. People that you'd keep close to your side whenever you visited headquarters. People that you'd enjoy having an exchange of gossip with during lunch in the bustling cafeteria.

Miguel O'Hara wasn't exactly one of those people.

It's not like you didn't want to develop something more than a boss-coworker relationship. Though, conversations with him were always difficult, to the say the least. Most of the time, he's talking about work and anything that goes past that boundary goes unspoken.

Quite literally. You've forgotten the amount of times that you've built up the courage to mention anything about your other (not deceased) relatives or your friends and the amount of times that the room was filled with a silence so awkward that crickets are on the same volume as missile launchers.

Though, you didn't want to lose hope. You sort of understood where he was coming from. People go through grief and mourning in different ways, Miguel's was probably just isolation and a complete avoidance of discussions of personal life.

He was a leader. A good one. A trait of a good leader is to connect with their subordinates, establish relationships. So it really made you think.

How messed up was he that he missed that one quality?

"Hey. Your food's getting cold." There it goes, the sound of your train of thought leaving the station. Sometimes, you were grateful for Jess being there for you. She could snap you back to reality you like nobody else could.

You mutter an apology before stabbing your salad with your fork and taking a bite, Jess rests her head on her palm. Raising a brow at you, "So, did you want to eat lunch with me for fun or are you just using me to get info about Miguel? Again?"

Nervously, you shake your head. "It's nothing like that!" She leans in a little more, waving her other free hand in the air in a circular motion.

"...But if you have anything that you'd like to share then I'm not going to refuse entirely—"

"Oh my god. Fine, fine. What do you want to know?"

With that question, it felt like your mind blanked. You fidgeted with your fork, twirling a leaf of your salad against the plate as you pondered on what question to ask.

Jess responds with a deep sigh, "If you're trying to find a way to talk to him more, he doesn't leave that office of his much unless it's for work. He's in there most of time. Although..."

"Although?"

"Although, I've seen him come here normally somewhere around midnight to get a very late dinner alone. The place is less crowded, most are just in their own universe or sleeping or working."

Your face falls a little upon hearing that. "So I can only catch a non-serious conversation with him... in the middle of the night?"

"Exactly. Besides, there's a good chance he's going to just— continue talking about work with you whether he's in his office or not. You know that, right?"

You drop your utensil in defeat, burying your face shamefully in your hands. "I know..."

You quickly wrap up your lunch with Jess, as she shares bits and pieces about him. You had really wondered how she was able to learn all of these things about him anyway but before you had the opportunity to ask her, she told you to not.

Respecting her wishes, you keep your mouth shut. Respecting her even further, you decide to pack up both of your plates and wave her a goodbye before picking up those thoughts that you were left a while ago.

Admittedly, you didn't know why you were so persistent for something like this, for someone like him.

Determination was a strength of yours but that didn't mean that you didn't know where your limits rested and you would back off when you needed to.

There was just something. A swirling feeling in your gut that was telling you to keep going.

That it would be worth it.

So, you follow everything that Jess told you. Around midnight, he'd be alone, in the cafeteria, and looking for an empanada to snack on before heading back into his office. A very small fraction of his time left for personal conversation if you tried hard enough!

This most likely wasn't a good idea. You didn't sleep at all through the day but the thrill kept you alive and thriving. You confidently stride up to the counters of the cafeteria, picking out a small bag of chips for yourself and the last empanada for your soon-to-be snack companion.

Now, you wait.

You surveyed your surroundings and as you were doing that, you realize why he particularly emerges during these kinds of hours to eat. There was a significantly less amount of people.

Whenever you came here during the day, it was a miracle to be able to find completely empty seats. At times, you were forced to sit with a group of people.

You weren't entirely ungrateful for that though, you've made a lot of friends that way. Sure, it was awkward at first but the more you were forced to interact with people that way, the more you adapted to making small talk.

Even then, there were a lot of tables that were taken here save for one completely empty one at the far end.

Then, you finally see that navy and red suit.

Deciding to observe him just a little bit more, you watch him curse under his breath seeing the display case for the empanadas empty. Before he walks away any further, you tap him on the shoulder.

His mask was on, his eyes widen a little bit before you hand him the small box. "I saved the last one for you."

With a soft huff, you see the muscles in his shoulders and back grow loose once more, he hestitantly takes the container from your hands. Looking at it then looking back at you, "Thanks."

You two share a few seconds of awkward silence, you felt a little exposed. You decided to unmask for this because you wanted him to feel more comfortable talking to you rather than who you were as a Spider-person yet there's still that same awkwardness in the air.

Clearly without nothing to do and no idea on how to makem something better out of this, Miguel's about to walk off before you stop him once more.

"W— wait," A little piece of yourself dies inside as you hear yourself stutter but nevertheless, you keep going. "Uh, there aren't any other spots so is it alright if I sit you? I don't know any of the people here."

The way that you see the eyes through his masks narrow ever so slightly once the question escapes your throat makes your heart quiver like crazy.

You wanted to get to know him but damn, if you said that he didn't scare you sometimes then you would be lying.

You cry on the inside with sweet victory as he says...

"Fine."

That was it. That was all you got but you gladly take it! You have to catch up to him though because once you're done mentally celebrating, he's already a little bit far from you.

You try your hardest to keep your head straight but you can't help but look up and spare him one glance, the fact that you even had to look up at him really only emphasized your height difference with him.

Another factor that made you just a little bit more intimidated by him, his physique. You considered yourself to be of average height, you weren't the tallest person in the room but you were never the shortest as well. Just average.

The way he practically towered over you, his hand nearly being the size of your head. It made you feel something.

The moment that both of you have a seat, you take your opportunity.

"So, is there anything that you plan on doing after this?"

You get a little distracted once his mask comes off, he raises an eyebrow at you, crimson eyes that feel like they're looking straight into your soul. Though, side-tracked as he bites into the dough and meaty goodness of his empanada, with a shrug— he replies,

"Not really. Unless there's an anomaly I haven't heard of yet then I have no plans. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothing. Was just curious is all." Why was this so hard?!

The conversation goes as what you expected. You'd ask a question every moment or so and he'd give you a short response before going back to his food. He wouldn't ask you anything back, wouldn't add any 'unnecessary' comments. Just bask in the silence.

You simply couldn't take it anymore, you didn't know how to express your interest in him without asking him more questions about himself which he seems to avoid trying to answer.

You couldn't ask him about his hobbies because he'll most likely say that he's too busy working to actually spend time gaining and branching out to different interests.

Dejectedly, you sigh. "I'm sorry for imposing— on your alone time, I mean." It was like everything that you wanted to say just kept spilling out of your mouth.

"I didn't want to eat with you at this hour because I pity you or— or I found you lonely or whatever. I just thought that whenever you weren't talking about work, we'd be able to get along."

You stand up from your seat, eyes mindlessly darting arounf the labels of the bag of 'Spider-O's' in your clutches.

"I'll, uhm, let you eat in peace now. Once again, I'm—"

"Wait."

Which ever brain cells died from that interaction certainly reignited now. "Sit back down," It comes off an order. An order you certainly obey.

"I wouldn't have actually said yes to you if I didn't want to talk." He starts. "I know a lot of people but it's not in the same way that you do. I know their names, their faces, their canon events. You know their feelings, their mindscapes, and their troubles—"

"—And those are the exact kinds of things that I can't comprehend most of the time. We understand people differently, is what I'm saying. I still have no idea why exactly you sought out me of all people but I will... try to gain this new perspective of things."

You want to tamp down the smile that creeps up on your lips as you hear those words but you can't. What he said, it all made sense now. You couldn't see the full picture still, but you were willing to find it—

"I understand. It's fine."

"So? Do you have plans after this?"

Together.

[strawbrryval]

✦ ── “SIPS OF REGRET”

ᯓ★ SUMMARY: you got drunk with your bff and accidentally revealed some.. intimate feelings about your boyfriend's best friend. word got back to him and he decided to make your dream a reality.

wc: 1.1k click here to join the ice cream shop! not proofread

Oh how you fucking hated drinking. you swore you were never gonna drink again after this. This was your last straw, your 13th reason, your-

you snapped out of your little trance at the sting of your boyfriend’s hand connecting with your ass.

“Listen to me when I fucking talk. you didn't answer my question. are you supposed t’be saying that shit about any other man but me?” fuck.

you and lea were giggling while playing truth or dare. you invited her over for a girls' night to chat and catch up. you decided to record yourselves playing this since you wouldn't be seeing each other for a while after this.

“truth or dare?” “truth.” “girl boo, you’re boring as hell. but anyway. hm... if you had the chance to fuck any guy, who would it be? and you can’t say satoru, that's cheating.” she teased.

you thought about for a brief moment before blushing and giggling. “maybe suguru? i love ‘toru but he’s hot as fuck.. if i was single i’d hit that for real.” you slurred. “oh? shit, i can't lie i’d probably do that too.”

about two weeks after the incident lea's alcoholic ass went drinking with suguru. the two were laughing and talking before he asked a rather interesting question.

“oh shit, you didn't tell me about you guys’ sleepover. how was that?” your so-called “bestie” giggled in her drunken state while pulling out her phone. “it was goood, we played truth or dare, shit, look what she said about you!”

he watched the video and was astonished, to say the least. he silently grasped her chin and tilted her head forward before asking. “can you send that t’me princess?”

and of course, her dumbass said yes.

when he got home he forwarded the video to ony without any context.

sugupoo: [forwarded a video] Seen at 10:23 PM

Satoru watched it before gazing over at you, cuddling up to him as you were sleeping. You appeared very innocent compared to how you acted in the video.

He opted not to tell you what he knew just yet. He wanted to offer you an opportunity to admit it.

The next morning, he kissed your lips before serving you breakfast. You suspected he was happier than normal today, but you chose to brush it off.

“How was your sleep baby?” You whispered a small ‘it was fine’ before taking a bite of the food before you.

After you had finished, Satoru took your plate away. He started to wash your dish before asking you a question that made you choke on your coffee.

“I invited suguru for dinner tonight, that okay with you?” When you choked on your drink before responding to him, he glanced at you, concerned. “T-that’s fine.. just a bit sudden.”

He gave a humming sound, then dried the plate before placing it back in the cupboard. “Is there a problem?” He tried to give you a somewhat worried glance but his eyes darkened instead, scaring you.

“N-no! of course not.. he can come over..” “Great! thanks babe!” then his seemingly dark expression brightened into a smile before he kissed your cheek and returned to your shared bedroom.

sugupoo: she mention it?

satoru: nah. u still gonna come ?

sugupoo: fuck yeah.

You curled your hair with increasing anxiety, knowing suguru could show up any moment now. You decided to wear the same dress satoru bought you for your most recent anniversary.

The doorbell rang, sending shivers down your spine as you glanced through the bedroom door to see your boyfriend welcome his bestfriend.

You immediately finished getting ready, putting the final touches on your makeup before going outside to welcome suguru yourself.

You stepped out nervously, muttering a small ‘hi’ before becoming flustered and taking your seat at the table. Suguru gave a quiet giggle before greeting you back.

You all sat down to eat the dinner you finished preparing not too long ago. Afterwards, Satoru proposed that you guys should chill in the basement.

You loved this idea since it was recently remodeled. As soon as you were down there, Satoru dragged you onto his lap. Fingers grazing your thighs before speaking.

“Y’know baby, suguru here sent me a little video we wanna talk t’you about… I was just wondering what on him you wanna ‘hit’?”

—

Suguru gave you a little pout, “Why’re you running from me, baby? you were so brave in the video.” A grin spread across his face as he split you open, making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Nngh— sugu-” you immediately got cut off by a harsh slap against your ass. “Not Suguru tonight baby.” “S-sir! f-feels s’good sir!”

“Good.” he hummed with approval. Satoru took you by surprise as he groaned into your mouth, grabbing your hair in the process.

You stared up at him with wet lashes, while he just smiles and takes his cock out, tip leaking with precum as he smears some on your lips.

“C’mon pretty... open” You did as told, opening your mouth to allow him to thrust into it. A small gag left your throat as he forced himself in. The sight was mesmerizing, You, on all fours getting your throat fucked as his best friend pounded into you from behind.

Still maintaining eye contact with you as he grabbed your hair and began fucking your face. Letting out horrible moans and groans while watching drool fall onto your tits. Eyes blurry with tears as you struggled to breathe.

You whimpered when he suddenly pulled you off of his cock and forced you to look at him. “Last time I checked you aren’t supposed to be enjoying this honey and I think it’s been long enough...”

Satoru silently spread you over his lap before slowly caressing your ass. “Now darling, let’s reflect on our actions for a bit. Are you supposed t’be saying that shit about any other man but me?”

He waited a little while for your response, but all you were able to give him was a string of incoherent babbles. You snapped out of your little trance at the sting of your boyfriend’s hand connecting with your ass.

“You’re supposed to listen to me when I fucking talk. you didn't answer my question. Are you supposed t’be saying that shit about any other man but me?”

The sting caused you to ache in pain, tears streamed down your face as you managed to formulate words and answer him.

N-no! m’s-sorry! I can’t take anymore 'toru please!” He smirked down at you before focusing his attention on Suguru, who’s been watching this entire scene play out.

“What do you think Sugu? Think we should give her a break? Think she learned her lesson?” Suguru gave a sinister look before answering.

“I think we should teach her again to make sure she fully understands.”

a/n: this took so LONG omg im so sorry??? im a huge procrastinator and school ate me alive im so sorryyyy. but regardless i hope you guys enjoyed!!!

© strawbrryval, 2024. do not copy, steal, or repost my content without permission.

the ice cream shop: @lickmyglockk @peachyminx

[beybaldes]

open the blinds, let me see your face

masterlist

Sejanus plinth x gn!reader

summary: befriending Sejanus plinth was a choice you made, falling in love with him wasn’t

warnings: one use of y/n, I make Arachne crane out to be a high school mean girl, little bit angsty but it’s most fluffy, miscommunication, overhearing something, Sejanus being a little self deprecating :(( protect my baby boy

an: thanks for all the love on my Sejanus fics so far!! Here’s another one <33 tag list ~ @celestialstar111 <33

Sejanus Plinth sits two seats to the left of you on the curved bench in the classroom and he always has his head hung low like a wounded dog; hunched over and trying to protect itself, ready to bite if provoked enough.

There was a day last spring when Festus Creed was mid conversation with you as you entered the classroom, and moved to sit with you so he could carry on talking to you until the lesson began. You got to your usual seat and carried on, moving one seat over and letting Festus sit in your usual seat, but when you’d arrived for your learning the following day you didn’t move back, sitting in the seat one to the left of where you usually did. Though you can’t quite remember when the one seat gap between you and Sejanus became the inch that stopped your arms from pressing against each other, you can remember when other people started to take notice.

The first had been an all-too eager Arachne Crane, who’d tried to make some scene about it over lunch, to which she’d very promptly failed. Although she’d made it perfectly clear just how weird she thought it was. “Are you two… friends?” She’d leaned across the table asking you in a loud whisper, totally oblivious to how her blazer went straight into her food in some kind of instant Karma. Her gaze flickered to where Sejanus sat, at a table for two yet still by himself, head hung low. Arachne’s face scrunched in disgust. “He isn’t the kind of person you should befriend, y/n.”

In her mind, she was just looking out for you, but in yours she was being unnecessarily mean. “And whose friend should I be, Arachne? Yours?” Silence took over the table as you scoffed, a genuine look of hurt crossing Arachne’s face for a split second and then passing, and Festus reaching for your shoulder, patting it gently as if to say ‘you took it too far this time.’ To hell with all of them, if anyone had taken things too far it was Arachne when she felt the need to make fun of sweet Sejanus Plinth for no reason. You stood from the table, half eaten lunch in hand. “That’s what I thought.”

It isn’t difficult to see where you’re going, the whole table watching as you headed straight for the seat opposite Sejanus. Arachne gets more and more appalled with each step you take, refusing to believe that you’re willing to sit with Sejanus over her, yet, you seem to ask him something, and then pull out the seat with a softer smile then you’ve ever given her and get straight to talking to the brunette. She can’t believe her eyes.

“Is it okay if I sit here?” Sejanus looks up at you with wide eyes, his whole body stilling at the question. Of course it was okay, but why would you want to sit with him? At first he thinks it’s some kind of cruel joke with the way a table full of senior academy students are looking at him with Arachne at its head, but then he thinks about everything he knows about you - you’ve never been anything but kind to him, you sat next to each other in class and made pleasant enough small talk, and though he doesn’t think you’d remember, on his very first day of attending school in the capital you came and sat with him under the big oak tree in the yard, asked him what living in district 2 had been like and shared his sweets.

He quickly rules that your question is sincere and pulls his tray closer to his side of the table, nodding. “Please do.”

“Thank you.” The two of you last about 5 more seconds without either of you saying anything before you speak up. Even facing him, Sejanus keeps his head hung low. “You’re very kind, Sejanus.”

He likes the way you say his name, the way it seems to roll perfectly and fluidly off your tongue, like it was meant to be said by you. What’s worse is he knows he likes the way you say his name so much that he’s blushing, so, he ducks his head and try’s to bore holes in the table top. “I don’t know about that.”

Once more, Sejanus Plinth was hiding away from the world, or in this case you, and you were having non of it. Tapping his hand with yours, you waited until he looked up at you before you spokes. “Really? Because I know for a fact you’re the kindest person I’ve ever met.” If his face wasn’t already flushed the same red as his clothes, it would be now. “I mean, have you met half the people in this room? Kind isn’t exactly their forte.”

His smile widens so much he has dimples prominently on show that you’re not sure if you’ve ever seen before. Sejanus’s face was made for dimples and smiling, you’re sure of it. “Well, if you say so.”

From then on, not only do you sit directly next to each other in all your classes, you begin to each lunch together too, and eventually it escalates to Sejanus walking you home everyday after having lessons at the academy.

The first time he walks you home it’s pitch black out and the two of you have been sat in the academy’s library for hours upon hours studying for an exam. At the bottom of the steps you go to part ways, but Sejanus turns in the same direction as you and carry’s on walking. It’s takes three streets in the direction of your house for you to be brave enough to say anything about it.

“You do know you live in the opposite direction, right?” Sejanus’s gaze fell to the floor and he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Obviously he knew that, but he wasn’t able to outright admit he’d simply wanted to walk you home either - for some reason he could easily became a blushing, stuttering mess around you, and when you consistently looked at him like that, it didn’t make things any easier. “I know.” He didn’t know what else to say, but in an attempt to not blow his cover, he practically admitted it. “I just like talking to you, wasn’t ready to stop yet. I’d quite like to carry on walking this way, if you don’t mind.”

For the first time, it was you who became the blushing mess, looking anywhere but at Sejanus as you nodded, trying desperately to not let your hand brush against his. “Yeah, no, yeah. That’s- that’s more then okay. I don’t mind at all.”

When you finally reach your doorstep later that evening, you’ve brushed hands with Sejanus at least ten times and thought about just going for it and holding his hand twice. Three times if you count the fact you want to reach out and squeeze it as a thank you right now. “I like talking to you too, by the way. Like, a lot.”

“Oh, that’s good, that’s- yeah, wow, cool, cool.” Sejanus was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, hands still tucked stiffly into his pockets and still avoiding you gaze. If he’d look at you more, then maybe he’d see just how much were growing to like him, like really like him.

In a moment of bravery, you stood on the tips of your toes, pressing a fleeting kiss against his cheek then running up the steps to your front door. “Goodnight Sejanus, thank you.”

Sejanus stood frozen on your doorstep for a long moment, his shaking hand coming up to ghost over where your lips had just been pressed against his cheek, a dazed look in his eyes. Only hearing your door close behind you started him enough to get him moving again, and on his way home before he spent all night stood in a stupor on your doorstep.

The next morning, Sejanus felt as though he was as light as a feather walking through the academy, a skip in his step that had heads turning to look at him. Even Coriolanus had stopped him to ask what was going on, the brunette only able to respond with a bright smile and an airy promise that it was ‘nothing.’ He was sure this attitude would’ve continued all day - and perhaps even forever, getting renewed each time you pressed a kiss to his cheek again - if he hadn’t walked into the main hall to hear you and Arachne in the middle of a heated argument.

“You know it’s not like that, Arachne.”

“Well, If you’re not with him for his daddy’s money, I can’t see anything worth while. After all, he’s barely Capitol, district scum, so the only thing that would make sense is if-“ A wicked grin curled onto Arachne’s perfectly painted lips and it knocked you sick. She hasn’t even said the words yet and you knew she was about turn your world upside down, tell everyone what you’d been trying so hard to keep. “You love him.”

“No, no, that’s not-“ Your voice shook as you spoke and it was obvious to anyone that you were lying, well, anyone except Sejanus, who took your nervousness as embarrassment and felt his heart shatter. Of course it had been too good to be true. More fool him, he thought, for thinking one little kiss to his cheek meant anything.

But it wasn’t just one little kiss, it was so much more. It was thinking about holding his hand every time you were near him, it was getting two different things at lunch and having half and half each, it was knowing he’d always rather have a glass of apple juice, and that his Ma made the best baked goods in all of Panem. It was bumping your arm against his whenever one of your classmates said something stupid, it was him offering his blazer without you asking like he just knew how cold you were, it was curly hair that you wanted to run your fingers through and arms you wanted to step into and never move out of.

“You love him.” Arachne repeated, her words dripping with disgust the more she dwelled on them. Of course you would fall for the district boy, she’d only wished she’d been a better friend and stopped you before things got this far. “Poor thing, falling for a boy from the districts.”

“I’m not-“ Sejanus had heard enough, turning on his heel and heading out of the hall, not caring for the way the door slammed shut behind him. Turning to the noise, you noticed the flash of brown curls and Coriolanus stood by the closed door. “Sejanus…”

“Oh no, did I hurt lover boys feelings?”

The sound of your palm struck flat and fast against Arachne’s face resounded around the room, everyone staring at the scene in shocked silence. “Do you ever stop being a vindictive bitch? Or do you have nothing better to do?”

Pulling your bag further up your shoulder, you turned and ran for the door, wanting to catch up with Sejanus before he got too far. “Sejanus!” Dread filled your stomach as you realised it might be too late, Sejanus no where in sight. You started making a mental list of all the different places he could be heading for when the main doors closed with a hard thud. It had to be Sejanus. So, you were quick to follow, sprinting down to the opposite end of the corridor, and out into the pouring rain, not willing to lose him over something said by someone as cruel as Arachne Crane. “Sejanus, please, wait up!” Running down the marble steps without the care of slipping, you finally caught up to him, reaching out and grabbing onto his arm, causing him to still. “Let me explain, please.”

Sejanus turned to face you but kept his head hung low, something you hadn’t seen him do in months, and your heart clenched. Poor, sweet Sejanus Plinth curled into himself like a kicked dog, and it was your fault. “What is there to explain?” His words came out in a whisper, Sejanus trying his best to keep his calm as even if you were embarrassed by him, he’d never treat you wrong in anyway. Not even now. “You made it pretty clear how you feel about me.”

“Sejanus, please, Arachne was being cruel. You’re my best friend.” As you moved your grip down his arm to try and take his hand in yours, he pulled away from you, taking a step further back on the steps as well. “Sejanus please just let me explain, you have no idea-“

“You’re embarrassed of me.” He said firmly, as if it was the objective truth and you both just had to deal with that fact. He didn’t know how far from the truth it was. Sejanus’s hands curled into fists as he spoke and his voice trembled, like he was about to cry. “You’re embarrassed to be friends with the district scum who somehow made it to the Capitol, and you’ve spent the last few months becoming his friend because you pitied him, or to make fun of him, or something.” Sejanus was stumbling over his words as he got more and more upset, the rain against his face stopping you from figuring out if he was crying or not. “I get it, it’s fine, I just wish it hadn’t felt so real.”

Stepping closer to him before he could stop you, you cradled his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze and wiping away at the rain that coated his cheeks and matted his hair to his forehead. “It was real, it was so real, all of it, every single second. I promise Sejanus, I promise.” He was completely dazed by the feeling of your hands cupping his face and he only wished they’d been placed there in a different scenario. However you had taken his silence as disbelief in what you were saying, promoting you to continue, clutching his face tighter. “I’m not embarrassed of you, at all, ever. How could I be? God, I’d shout it from the rooftops just how much you mean to me if I didn’t know how much you’d hate everyone looking at you when I called your name.”

Sejanus was silent for a long moment, but leaned into the warmth of your touch, closing his eyes for a brief moment while he took in what you said. “You would?”

You tilted his head down so that his forehead pressed against yours in desperation. “I’d do anything for you, Sejanus, please.” His lips were centimetres from yours, so much so you could feel him breathe against them. It’d be so easy to kiss him right now. Instead, you slide your hands back around his head to cradle the back of his neck, pulling him into a hug. “Please… please believe me.”

Sejanus was hesitant, but wrapped his arms around you; one pressing into the small of your back and the other cupping the back of your neck. You’ve never been anything but kind to him, and he highly doubted that you’d decide to stop being now, so out of the blue. But as much as he wanted to move on from this, believe you and pretend nothing happened, Arachne’s words can’t stop echoing in his mind.

Daddy’s money, barely capital, district scum, you love him, you love him, you love him.

“Is it true?” He asked, grip on you tightening slightly incase it wasn’t and this was the last time he’d hug you. For all the months that Sejanus didn’t know if you returned his feelings or not, he lived in blissful ignorance, like you were so far out of his reach that the confession of his feelings was something he’d never have to worry about. But now that Arachne had brought it up, he needed to know for sure. As selfish as it was, he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle staying just your friend. “Do you really love me? Like, love me, love me?”

There was no point in trying to hide it now. You’d spent weeks trying to be brave enough to hold his hand, and last night in a daze you’d kissed him on the cheek, and even though you would’ve rather done it of your own accord, you were about to shy away from the opportunity to get it off your chest. “Yes.” You whispered, tucking your head deeper into the crook of his neck, muffling your words. If this was the last time you were going to be able to hold him, you wanted it to last. “And if you don’t want to be friends anymore then I’m okay with that. I’d rather lose you because I loved you too much then lose you because you think I didn’t love you at all.”

Sejanus stayed silent, processing and digesting each of your word’s individually. A small voice in his head was telling him that this was all a dream and he was going to be woken to reality any second, but the rain against his face and your hands at the nape of his neck told him otherwise. Pulling away from you enough to look at you, Sejanus made sure to meet and hold your gaze, cheeks flushing red at the idea alone of what he was about to say. “I love you.” Nose slotted against nose, the words were said against your lips, the breath he released after he made his admission fanning against your skin. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please do.” You answered, nodding your head slightly and leaning forward, meeting Sejanus in the middle in a gentle kiss. Though a little awkward and unsure, neither of you knowing where to put your hands or how to actually kiss, what you lacked in experience you made up for in enthusiasm, trying to drink up as much of each other as possible in one kiss. His lips against yours were firm, but still loving and gentle in a way unique to Sejanus, and he let you guide the two of you through it, kissing you harder when you pulled him closer and waiting for you to end the kiss.

Finally breaking away from each other, you could feel the rapid rise and fall of Sejanus’s chest against yours. The boy in front of you now was more like the Sejanus you knew so well, his head hanging low, and a hot flush coating his cheeks that he was trying to hide form the world, from you. However, his flustered facade didn’t last long, as you placed a hand against his jaw, titling his head up to look at you. “Can I kiss you again, Sej?”

[loveandmurders]

You belong to Ambrose I (poly!Sinclairs x f!reader)

Hey everyone, I'm happy to finally post the first part of this imagine.

I really hope you'll enjoy it <3

Warnings: no proof reading, a few strong words, angst, dangerous!Lester, mentions of violence, blood and murders, morally grey reader.

“Hey, mom, what do you think Ambrose looks like now?” you heard yourself asking your mother without even meaning to.

The woman sent you a quick glance before her attention went back on the food she was preparing on the kitchen table.

“Why?” she sternly asked back and you tried to shrug it off, no matter how embarrassed you were starting to feel about the whole conversation you just brought up.

“Don’t know. I’m just planning a road trip with friends and we’ll go close back to where Ambrose is…was. I noticed it wasn’t even marked on maps anymore” you explained and your mother hummed

“Then you got your answer. Ambrose must be gone.” she said “Like the brothers you used to love so much” she replied and sent you another look, as you glanced down at your lap, in shame.

You should have known better than to talk about Ambrose to your mother. The woman had always wanted to pretend it had been a terrible nightmare.

“Mom…” you whispered

“I’ve never understood why you were so fond of them. Your dad either. They were a terrible influence on you. I’m happy you decided to burn the bridges with them and that you never went back to Ambrose. There was nothing for you there. And those people were troublesome and violent and… freaks. You deserved way better than them.” she continued and you resisted the urge to take their defence. They weren’t freaks, they were… a great part of your life and now a great hole inside your chest. “What was their name again?” your mother asked.

“Sinclairs” you instantly replied before biting your tongue

“Ah yes. Well, I’m glad you didn’t become one” she continued and you frowned at that.

“What do you mean, mom?” you wondered with a tilt of your head

“The eldest one, when he came back to Ambrose after his mother died and that he was sent away for a few months, and before his dad died that same day, he looked for you. He knocked at our door. Thank God you were away with your dad then. I told him to go away and he assured me that he would never go away from you, and that you would become his wife one day too.”

“His… wife” you whispered, your heart aching.

Bo was indeed often speaking about marrying you and sharing you with his brothers, but you always thought there were only words; the Sinclairs never really planned out their future. Bo was too obsessed with cars and getting free from his family to care about anything else. Vincent was too focused on his art. Lester was just a lost kid wandering into the woods late at night. You hadn’t thought they were actually seeing you as their future. You always appeased Bo, you always brought Vincent back to reality, you always helped Lester feel like he was part of something.

“To be honest” your mom resumed and your attention went back on her “with the amount of time you were spending with him and his brothers, I was really worried you would agree on doing something that stupid. And even though you left Ambrose heartbroken and sobbing, I’m happy something happened between you, him and his twin, that day. I don’t know what it is, but I knew it convinced you to leave.” she continued and you didn’t answer. The memory of that day was still burning you to the core.

You had been so happy so see Bo and later on, Vincent. You had run into their arms and they had hugged you with fierce love. You were all planning on getting Lester back too. 

And then, Bo killed his dad and Vincent told you he was going to continue the House of Wax, the way his mother always did. You knew about the murders, you knew people were beneath the wax, but you never said anything because you loved the boys. And despite how an awful mother Trudy was, she liked you. You were a girl, and she could finally chat around with what looked like a daughter to her. Victor was also a little more careful around you. You were loved by the Sinclairs, and they couldn’t explain it; it just happened.

But their love was dark and violent, and you couldn’t agree to live like that; you couldn’t stay in Ambrose when everything was dying around and you couldn’t live from murders. You promised yourself to never betray your boys, but at the same time, you left with your parents without a goodbye. You knew that if you decided to go see the twins one last time, they would convince you to stay and it couldn’t happen. You never recovered from the fact you didn’t see Lester again before leaving and you hoped Bo had been able to bring him back home. You were certain he did though, because his people were the only thing that mattered to him.

You were about to leave the kitchen when your mother called your name and you turned around, with a raised eyebrow, silently asking her what she wanted.

“Do me a favour and stay away from Ambrose during your little road trip, okay?” she said with a hint of concern in her voice

“You said yourself that there is nothing there anymore anyways” you replied, a little bit surprised by your mother’s attitude

“I know but… I don’t want you to tempt the devil” she replied and you only found yourself nodding. 

You wondered if by the devil she meant Bo.

Bo knelt in front of a woman he just killed. She was the last one of the group and he was glad about it because he felt quite tired now. It was too hot today to play hide and seek with assholes. At least, the night was already casting its shadows around Ambrose and bringing with it a little bit of fresh air. Bo looked down at the woman, tilting his head to the side as he watched the pretty necklace she had around her neck. It was slightly covered in blood but he was pretty sure he could wash it without trouble. It looked expensive; he was certain the glitter coming from beneath the blood was a little diamond. He took it off her body without a care and pocketed it before Vincent could use this jewel on his next wax statue.

“Y/N would’ve liked it” Bo hummed to himself before sadly sighting. His throat tightened as always when he was saying your name out loud.

Whenever he was spotting something that reminded him of you, he was always grabbing it and putting it away, in a box filled with gifts for you. He never stopped hoping that one day he would be able to give you this box. You would realise how much you were loved then; but so far it only happened in his dreams. And yet, he was thinking about you everyday of his life and he still believed you would come back home one day. He was certain you were meant to be a Sinclair; even his parents were liking you so it had to mean something. He missed you so much, he missed your laugh and he missed the way you loved his brothers and himself. Ambrose was empty without you. Life had always been shit, but your absence was torture. He had thought that after a few years, the pain would subside, but it really didn’t. It often felt like it was actually growing up inside his chest. You left with a piece of themselves, you left with the only sun and happiness the boys truly felt. He knew his brothers were feeling the same, because everytime they were all eating together at night, the conversation always ended on what you became. And on why you never came back.

They could guess you were disapproving of the killing, but they couldn’t stand the idea that maybe you got scared of them. They couldn’t even say it out loud; you were the only thing they would never have hurt.

Bo sighted again as he grabbed the woman by her ankles and he started to pull her to the house. Vincent came upstairs when he heard a body being dragged on the floor and he helped his twin out. Vincent could tell by the look in Bo’s eyes that he was thinking about you. It was the only moment Bo was utterly silent too, lost in thoughts.

Vincent couldn’t blame him. He had hundreds of books filled with drawings of you. Whenever he thought that he would never hear your voice again, never feel your touch on his skin anymore, Vincent was drawing you. He was certain you existed that way, and he was certain he would never forget about what you looked like, even if he knew your figure and face were carved inside his chest and brain. You used to caress the bad side of his face and to remind him he was handsome, even in front of Trudy or Victor. You had never been afraid to show yourself with “the freak”. And his skin felt so dry and painful now your fingers hadn’t traced it in years.

The twins worked in utter silence and none of them felt hungry that night, so they went to bed earlier than usual. None of them slept actually, simply staring at the ceiling or at the wall, wondering where you were and if you were happy… without them. They wanted you to be happy as much as they wanted you to be miserable without them, because it was their only chance you would one day come back home.

Lester wasn’t better than the twins. And if Bo fucked with some girls, Lester just couldn’t even think about touching someone else than you. It felt wrong to him. He promised you he was yours and only yours after all. He had always enjoyed how a little bit possessive you were with the three of them. Lester wasn’t certain of a lot of things, but he knew he belonged to you. You had always loved them equally, giving them the love they were all craving so much.

You were always in Lester’s mind. He was always hoping to find you among a group of tourists, to be fair. He never stopped looking for you and hoping to see you again. You belonged to them too, so he couldn’t understand how you could live away from them. And he knew that if he ever found you again, he wouldn’t hesitate to lock you up somewhere if it meant keeping you by his side. Forever. 

And he was certain that the twins were thinking the same. They lost you once, they wouldn’t allow it to happen again.

But for that… he needed to find you first. 

And every morning and every night, he promised himself he would. Out of the three, he was the one who was the most certain he could get you back home, no matter if you wanted it or not. You were his little goddess, so he was certain that at some point you would come close to Ambrose again… and he would stumble upon you… and he would get you home. You would become the divinity of Ambrose once again, and everything would be alright.

One day, luck seemed to be on his side.

The closer you drove to Ambrose, the more you recognised the roads. Your mother’s words never stopped echoing inside your head and at some point, you turned the wheel so you wouldn't get too close to the place. A part of you wanted to drive right back to it; you even felt a little pang when you took the opposite path. You wanted to be back home more than anything, but you were too afraid of what would await you there. You even believed that the twins would be so mad at you, they would kill you and turn you into a wax statue so you couldn’t leave anymore without saying goodbye.

You found a little campsite and you all decided to spend the evening and night there. You forced yourself to focus on your people so you could forget about the Sinclairs. Another part of you was begging you to leave this place and to drive as far as possible away from Ambrose. You had no idea which parts of you were stronger.

You realised you didn’t have enough food for tonight so you and another girl took the car to find a shop nearby. It was late so a lot of them were close and you had to admit, you shivered in fear when your friend showed you the only store open 24/7 in the area. It was very close to Ambrose; little did you know that it was actually the town Lester was living in. You tried to not show anything as you drove to the store. You crossed your fingers to not run into any of the Sinclairs before you thought how stupid this was. The boys wouldn’t be there, and they might even be dead because of their way of life. And you were a lucky girl, something like that couldn’t happen to you.

Even if something inside of you was bubbling in excitement and hope.

As you entered the store, a man was leaving it. He moved to the side to let you come in and as you were about to thank him, your eyes met his and widened.

Lester.

You tried to move past him, hoping he wouldn’t have recognised you or that he would hate you enough to let you go easily. But you were a fool. He instantly grabbed your wrist as he whispered your name, bringing you back to him. He was in trance. He couldn’t believe the day finally came. Your friend frowned, wondering what was going on. She placed an arm around your shoulder to show you support

“Can you let go of her, buddy?” she calmly said and Lester instantly obeyed, not wanting to cause a scene. He put his hands in front of him in defence.

“Sorry. Hi, Y/N, ‘s been a long time” he hummed, looking for your eyes.

“Hi, Les. Sorry, but we’re a bit in a hurry here, we’ll chat another time, hmm?” you said, hoping to get out of this discussion as fast as possible. Goosebumps littered his skin at the sound of your voice calling him by his nickname.

You were surprised when Lester simply smiled and nodded. You noticed his grin didn’t reach his eyes though and you suppressed a shiver. You knew you were in trouble, especially with him letting you go so easily. Even more when he cheerfully said as you turned your back to him “See you soon, darl”

Lester settled in his truck and waited for you and your friend to get out of the store. He dialled his big brother’s number with a light in his eyes. It was the first time in so long he felt like he was finally alive. He was certain things were finally going to be good.

“‘S up, Les?” Bo hummed at the other side of the line, always answering his phone very fast whenever his brothers needed him

“She’s here.” Lester simply said because he was too happy and excited to say anything else.

“What are ya talkin’ ‘bout, kid?” Bo asked, not wanting to get some false hope.

“Y/N. She’s at the store. She’s with a friend. Gonna follow them, I’ll send ya their location… And we’ll bring her home tonight”

It was a promise.

And a threat.

--

Taglist : @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21

--

PART II

[the-roo-too]

not my fault -> plastic! oh haewon

-the trio owns the school, but you own the queen bee’s heart

warnings: loosely referencing mean girls; basically making out in the closet lol; more of a short drabble than an oneshot tbh

genre: secret relationship; fluffish

notes: i might be in love with reneé rapp

⌦ .｡.:*♡

as your lunch tray hit the table with a soft thud, you became aware of how quiet your spot in the cafeteria was compared to the other tables.

while you wouldn’t necessarily call yourself a loner, you wouldn’t be caught dead talking to someone without a reason. it just felt like none of the cliques were for you.

taking a small bite out of your food, you could feel a pair of eyes burning into the back of your head. even from across the cafeteria, the sensation was unmistakable.

the table in the middle of the room was occupied by the most influential trio in the whole school—the plastics. not to be mistaken with an environmental group, the plastics were a very closed off clique, like a teen royalty.

there was bae jinsol, an actually nice girl. she just wasn’t on the brightest side. rumour has it she tried to spell orange with a ‘d’ once.

then there was seol yoona, more commonly known as sullyoon. she knew everything about everyone and had connections basically everywhere.

at last, there was an apex predator. the queen bee of the school. the devil in human form.

oh haewon. the girl who’s eyes were currently burning holes in the back of your head.

one secret not even sullyoon knew about was the one that you shared with haewon.

despite all the rumours of her hooking up with this or that jock, she was very much not interested in men. you were the only one she had her eye on.

⌦ .｡.:*♡

haewon let her eyes linger on you for a little longer before she turned her attention to her friends with a bored sigh. sullyoon was yet again talking about some boy she had in her gym class. no one worthy her attention.

“what’s his name again?” she asked in a dismissive tone.

when sullyoon looked at her, slight hurt flashed in her eyes. the queen be rarely ever listened to them.

“jake.” she said before smiling stiffly. “the one i’ve been talking about for a week.”

“yeah, i remember now.” a bored sigh escaped haewon’s lips before she turned her attention to the third girl in their clique. “say, jinsol, wasn’t he invited to your party this friday?”

“who, jake?” bae glanced briefly at yoona as she nodded. “i think so.”

“great. i’ll help you talk to him then.” sullyoon looked at her in shock before a small smile broke out on her face.

“thank you, haewon.”

“it’s whatever. you guys wanna skip the rest today?” she got approving nods from her friends, making her grin softly. “i’ll meet you two by my car. i have to go see minjae before we leave.”

sullyoon smiled at her, as did bae. they both thought she was dating one of the jocks—she did let him be seen with her sometimes. he thought she was just playing hard to get, while in reality she just kept him around for appearances.

haewon typed a quick text to the contact ‘my baby 🩷’ before she stood up from the plastics table and left the cafeteria.

⌦ .｡.:*♡

“i missed you…” she whispered, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, keeping your body close to the wall. “you looked so pretty today, my baby.“

“i missed you too, haewon…” you mumbled back against her lips, gently kissing her. those intimate moments in the janitor’s closet weren’t ideal, but it was all you could get in school without being caught.

“i told jinsol and yoona i was seeing that jock again… does that make you jealous, pretty girl?” the grin she sent you made you feel weak in her hold. she knew damn well what she was doing, and boy did she enjoy it.

“you know it does… i hate that we have to hide.”

“awh.” her soft pout didn’t ease your nerves as much as she hoped it would. “i’m sorry, babe. you know i can’t have people knowing i’m gay. do you know how much it would cost me?”

“yeah.” you gave her a weak glare before kissing her pink lips yet again. “you care about your reputation more than you care for me.”

“i wouldn’t be sneaking into this dirty closet with you during lunch time if i didn’t care, would i? you knew what you were getting into when i told you this had to be a secret.”

of course she was right. when was oh haewon ever wrong though?

“it’s not my fault you fell for me, silly girl.”

“i hate that you’re right.”

she grinned at you, her free hand sneaking to your waist. “course you do.”

⌦ .｡.:*♡

[forever-rogue]

Could I request something with the prompt, “that’s a mighty sexy costume you’re wearing” with best friend!Eddie seeing bookworm!Reader in a skimpy costume for the first time? Maybe a lil smutty, if you want, but no pressure! - @munson-blurbs 💚

AN | Ooh, this is a great idea! I feel like Eddie would just short circuit! 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3.9k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I have bad news," you walked into the trailer without ceremony or announcing yourself, dumping your purse near the door and kicking off your shoes.

Eddie looked up from the couch, where he was sprawled out, nose buried in his book. He quickly set it down and gave you his full attention, raising an eyebrow.

“The absolute worst,” you flopped down on the couch where he had made room for you, huffing dramatically. Eddie snorted in amusement as you made yourself comfortable on the opposite, positioning yourself so that your feet were touching his. You relaxed slightly now that you were back in his presence, his magnetic warmth and charm washing over you. 

“And just what are these horrible, terrible, very bad news?” he nudged your foot with his and offered you a small, encouraging smile. You could have easily melted into a puddle from that alone, “lay it on me.”

“I…” you leaned in, playing up the theatrics as you knew from years of being his best friend that he often did. He mirrored your position, the two of you looking at each other with matching grins.

“You…”

“I…don’t have a Halloween costume,” with that, you leaned back and threw your arm over your eyes, making a sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan, “what am I supposed to do now?”

“Oh. My. God,” he reached for your hands and pulled you closer, a deeply concerned look on his face, “this is the worst. What are we going to do? I think…I think we might have to cancel Halloween this year.”

“NO!” you closed your  eyes and clutched at your heart, “no. It’s our favorite holiday. You must go on without me!” 

When you looked at Eddie again, the two of you broke into a fit of giggles. He loved when you were like this, so free and open and utterly yourself. He knew you were shy and more quiet around others - until you warmed up to them - but there had always been something special, something different about the bond the two of you shared. You were…everything to him, even if you, or he, didn't know that.

"C'mon sweetheart," he stood up and gestured toward the kitchen with a crook of his head, "pizza got here just before you did. Let's eat and then we can figure out this little conundrum."

"What kind did you get?" You bounced after him, stomach almost grumbling as you took in the mouth watering sight of the pizza boxes.

"My favorite and yours," he stated as though it was the most obvious thing into the world, "didn't really think I'd let me girl go without exactly what she wants, right?"

"N-no," my girl. Your head was buzzing with those two simple words. He'd said them so many times over the years that sometimes you even allowed yourself to think that they held more meaning than they truly did, "I should have known better."

"Yes you should have," he reached into the fridge and pulled out a few beers, "now dig in so we can start our movie and then solve all your problems!"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"So," the two of you were sitting on the floor of the trailer's living room. The space was always cozy and inviting, especially towards the colder months, always overflowing with blankets and good food. You took a big bite of pizza and chewed it thoughtfully, "what led to this coming to an issue?"

"Ugh," you swallowed thickly before wiping your greasy fingers on a napkin, "I went to a couple of stores and halloween shops to look for costumes with Nance and Robin. And there was practically nothing there!"

"Nothing of interest? Nada? Zilch?"

"There were some," you admitted sheepishly, cheeks growing warm as you thought to the costumes you did see. Eddie seemed to sense your hesitation and motioned for you to go on. His big brown eyes were concentrated on you and that made your mouth run dry, "but they were umm…they were sexy."

You whispered the last part so softly that Eddie almost didn't even hear you. But once he processed what you said, his face went through a copy of different expressions before settling on curiosity, "sexy?"

"Sexy," you repeated gravely with a nod, "like sexy nurse, sexy witch, sexy pirate, sexy everything! The only costumes that weren't like that were the complete opposite! I can either be a sexy scientist or a big, round pumpkin. Why can't there be a middle ground?"

Eddie had been listening, and listening intently, but his brain was currently having a moment. As soon as you said sexy, his mind went completely into the gutter. He would have been a dirty, filthy liar if he said he hadn't immediately started imagining you in said costumes. He hated that he did that but he was just a simple man after all. And you were the girl he was in love with so naturally…it went hand in hand.

"Eddie? Hello….earth to Eddie," you were waving your hand in front of his face as he blinked and pulled himself back into reality. His cheeks flushed a pretty shade of bubblegum pink as he smiled sheepishly at you, "you alright there, space cadet?"

“Y-yeah,” and he was a liar. A damn, dirty liar. He was currently trying, and struggling, not to pop a boner at the mere thought of you. Eddie shifted slightly to try and make his situation a little less obvious but it didn’t help, “so…umm, ugh - maybe we could make costumes?”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought about too,” luckily you were so worried about your own ordeal that you didn’t notice his, “I guess we could do that. Maybe as a last resort. I was thinking about going into Indy with Steve soon and looking. I’m sure I’ll figure something out. You still want to go to that big party with everyone, right?”

“Of course - as long as it’s what you want,” he was always looking out for you. It made you feel so safe and loved, “but that sounds like it’ll be fun. Can’t wait for Steve to bust out those dance moves again.”

“Seriously!” The last party the lot of you had been to had ended with a very not sober Steve who insisted he could dance. He couldn’t but it was still hilarious for the rest of you, “it’ll be fine. It’ll be fun! I just have to figure out a costume, which I’m sure I will.”

“Of course you will, sweetheart,” was it shameful that Eddie was lowkey but definitely high key wishing for you to wear something sexy? Probably, but his brain was feeling very simple at the moment, “this Halloween will be a great one.”

-─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I think I am having second thoughts,” you looked yourself over in the mirror and sighed deeply, “a lot of them.”

“You look amazing,” Robin appeared behind you in the mirror, hands on your shoulders as she pressed a kiss to your cheek, “stunning.”

“I feel naked,” you definitely weren’t but it was still way less clothing than you were used to wearing or that anyone had seen you in. Looks like you really went with sexy after all. It was supposed to be just nerdy…but it ended up being that and a whole lot more. Or less if you were really thinking about it, “are you sure this doesn’t look ridiculous?”

“Princess Leia would be proud,” She grinned at you before stepping into the bathroom to finish her own makeup. You cringed slightly…you had a feeling Leia wouldn’t inherently be proud but she was all about autonomy and you were exercising yours so…it was all fine. Right? Right.

“Let’s go before I change my mind,” you grabbed your coat off the hook by the front door and wrapped yourself up in it. There was no reason to be cold already after all.

“Coming!” Nancy and Robin were both putting on the last touches to their costumes - a couple’s costume - which you thought was already. Their relationship wasn’t terribly new anymore but you could see just how enamored they were with each other. It was disgustingly cute. You couldn’t help but wonder at times, if Eddie had ever looked at you like that. If only you knew.

“This is going to be so much fun!” the three of you were meeting the boys at the party and you couldn’t completely shake off the nerves. Especially every time you thought of Eddie. 

You supposed you’d get his response soon enough. What would happen was anyone’s guess.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Was your costume…supposed to be girl in trenchcoat?” Eddie’s voice was soft and warm in your ear as the two of you headed towards the bar to get some drinks for the table. People around you were in various stages of sobriety and costumes, but it was a good party and everyone seemed to be having a good time. You were ready to do the same…maybe. Hopefully a few drinks would help. 

“No…not really,” you turned to Eddie and couldn’t help but look him up and down again. He was dressed as a vampire, silly plastic fangs half hanging out of his mouth. He looked pretty good, but you loved the fact that he still managed to be so himself, “it’s underneath.”

“Are you gonna show me or are you going to keep it hidden all night?” he settled his hands on your waist as he stood behind you as you approached the bar. The feel of his touch on you sent electric shivers down your spine. If only he knew how close he was to touching your bare skin, “mmm, sweetheart?”

“I-I can show you,” your eyes grew wide, heart pounding as loudly as the bass pouring through the club’s speakers. You swallowed thickly, “but can we go somewhere a little more private? I’m still not sure if I’m totally comfortable with it. I guess…maybe you could give me your opinion.”

His curiosity was piqued as he blinked at you a few times before nodding, “yes, of course. Always.”

He almost died when he felt your fingers wrapped around his wrist, quickly following behind as you pulled him towards a more secluded area near the bathrooms. Once you were sure you were away from prying eyes, you fumbled with the belt holding your coat closed. 

“If it’s super terrible, be nice please. It’s so out of my comfort zone and I don’t know what I was thinking, but here we are,” before he could say anything, you unknotted the tie and let the coat fall open. After a moment to psych yourself up, you shrugged the coat off and draped it over one arm and gave Eddie a vague little ta da. 

He didn’t say anything - couldn’t say anything as he stared at you. It took every fiber of his being to remain objective and not let his more animal part of his brain take over. You interpreted his silence to mean it was terrible and that he’d never seen anything worse. You scrambled to try and put on your coat again, but he put his hand on your arm and shook his head, “Eddie?”

“That’s…umm. Wow. That’s a mighty sexy Halloween costume,” he finally spoke and his voice sounded so strained. You bit your lip and looked at him with big doe eyes; you were going to be the death of him, “sweetheart, I thought…this wasn’t what you wanted?”

“It wasn’t initially what I wanted but then I couldn’t find anything else and then I just sorta settled on…this,” you gestured vaguely at yourself, keenly aware of how much the Princess Leia bikini costume revealed - it left very little to the imagination, “umm, is it that bad?”

“N-no,” he swallowed the thick lump in his throat, “fuck no. You look amazing.”

And oh. That wasn’t what you had been expecting at all. Eddie wasn’t sure if he was really going to say that to you, but he didn’t feel like holding back either. Maybe now was the time - the time to tell you how he’d felt about you for so long now. 

“Really?” you sounded much too sweet and demure for someone looking so ridiculously sexy. He nodded so vigorously that his chocolatey curls were bouncing around, “it’s not…stupid?”

“Not at all,” his hands settled on your forearms as he looked around. There was something that came over him that caused him to feel partially possessive of you, “listen I…fuck. You look so good and I know what all those guys are going to be thinking. Because…honestly? I’m thinking the same thing.”

“What do you…oh,” your entire body felt like it was on fire from his intense gaze. You weren’t exactly sure what response you had been expecting from him, but this wasn’t what you had imagined. It felt so…invigorating and thrilling, “you think it…I look good?”

“Angel, you always look good - better than good. But this is…a whole level,” you swore his eyes got darker as he leaned in closer, his cologne washing over you, “never thought my little bookworm would look like this.”

“Me neither,” you weren’t sure if you were reading the situation right, or just dreaming that it was going the way it was, but you were definitely feeling a type of way, “I guess we should go back to everyone.”

“Hmm? Oh,” he silently cursed the fact that you were at a party. He wanted you all to himself and he didn’t care that it was selfish, “yeah. I guess we should.”

“It’ll be fun,” you nudged his arm with a small smile, “c’mon, let’s go and get those drinks.”

You were still feeling self-conscious but Eddie’s reaction gave you a little bit of a much needed confidence boost. He trailed closely behind you as you made your way back to the bar; he could see the way heads turned in your direction, eagerly looking you up and down. 

“Let’s just get this over with,” he huffed under his breath, glaring down anyone who looked at you for too long. 

He didn’t even care if it made him look like an asshole. You were his and tonight he was going to make sure you and everyone else knew that.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The party seemed to drag on and on, and Eddie knew that he was probably getting more sour by the minute. He kept an eye on you as you went out and danced with Robin and Nancy, his conversation with the guys half-hearted as he kept zoning out of the conversation. As it grew later into the evening, Eddie had had enough. 

“Sweetheart,” he found you at a table with Nancy and Robin and a few other girls that you’d befriended. He leaned in so only you could hear, “do you want to go? It’s getting late. We could-”

“Yes!” you turned to him eagerly, already waving goodbye to your friends as Eddie shot them an apologetic look. Robin and Nancy weren’t bothered, they were more than supportive of what was going on. 

“Do you want me to take you home?” The cool night breeze was a welcome change from the stuffiness of the club. He offered you your coat back and you slipped back into it, causing him to breathe a sigh of relief. 

“Can we go to yours instead?” and why would Eddie ever deny you? You looped your arm through his and leaned in close as you walked to the van, “maybe we can watch a scary movie or something. I just…I wanna hang out with you.”

“Of course,” he gave you a gentle squeeze as he opened the door to the van and helped you in. He would have done anything for you - anything you asked of him, “to Casa Munson we go!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Eddie?" The two of you were sitting criss cross applesauce on the living room floor, a big bowl of popcorn between your bodies and some random slasher playing on the television. He shoved his handful of popcorn into his mouth and motioned for you to go on. You were both still in costumes and he was struggling not to keep stealing glances at you, "can I ask you something?"

"Ofcourseanything," he mumbled through his mouth of popcorn. He swallowed it down before nodding and clearing his throat, "yeah."

"Would you have sex with me?"

Eddie choked on air as soon as he heard your question, coughing violently as he tried to figure out if you had seriously asked him that. Your own face turned so warm you were sure you could fry an egg on it. 

“I just…I meant like if you didn’t know me or if you like had any more feelings than just friends feelings,” you were quickly trying to backtrack and reiterate your question. You almost wished that you hadn’t said anything at all, “like would you have sex with me if you saw me like this?”

“I…” Eddie’s brain was short circuiting as he tried not to imagine all the ways and scenarios in which he would very much like to have sex with you. The question now was how would he tell you that yes, he would very much have sex with you without weirding you out or ruining everything. That or he could just…he could tell you how he truly felt.

“You know what, nevermind,” you were ready to stand up and run out. You’d run home if you had to - anything to avoid more of this situation, “forget I asked. I just…yeah. Sorry, Eddie. Can we just pretend that nothing happened?”

“Yes,”  he said suddenly just as you were sure you were going to die of embarrassment.

“Umm…yes to what? Yes to ignoring that this happened or -”

“Yes, I would have sex with you,” you froze, eyes almost comically wide as you stared at him. Eddie’s entire face and neck were turning to a violent shade of crimson, “I-I respectfully of course.”

“You would?” you sounded so sweet and innocent despite not even trying to, “really?”

“Yes,” he nodded fervently as you relaxed, leaning in closer to him. If it had been almost any other man you would have felt uncomfortable but never with Eddie. He’d never once made you feel anything by safe and happy and…loved. A nervous laugh escaped the boy as he scooted closer, your hands almost brushing, “I don’t just want…it wouldn’t just be sex. It’s about so much more than that. Because I…it’s never just been that. I feel…very strongly for you.”

“Eddie?” your entire body felt like it was vibrating with energy as your heart pounded in your ribcage. You were surprised it didn’t burst through your ribcage with how hard it was going. Was he seriously saying what you thought he was? Was there actually a chance that Eddie Munson felt the same the way about you that you felt about him? You leaned in so your face was closer to his, voice dropping low, “what do you mean? Tell me…please.”

"Sweetheart…fuck. I've thought about this so many times in the past. Pictured this exact moment so many times…but you're not usually in a Princess Leia costume," his little quip caused both of you to laugh softly, "I adore you. I have for so long now and I love everything about you and who you are and…I'm in love with you."

Oh. Oh. You hadn’t been expecting to hear that. Maybe you had, deep down, always known how Eddie truly felt. But hearing him verbalize it was on a whole other level. When you didn’t say anything in response, Eddie feared that he had said the entirely wrong thing. 

But then you looked at him with nothing short of heart eyes, smiling softly. That was definitely one of his favorite sights in the entire world. He hoped he'd get to see it every day for the rest of his lifetime.

"I've pictured this moment too, so many times," you moved your hand closer, letting your pinky brush against his, "and it didn't involve you as a vampire. Usually though, in these scenarios I'm one that says it first. I adore you beyond words, Eddie."

He brought his hand to gently rest on yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. You looked down at your hands and couldn't keep the beaming grin off your face. This evening had definitely taken a turn that you weren't expecting.

"Does that mean what I think it means?" His face was close to yours and you studied him. He really was pretty with those soft brown eyes and pink lips and the faint freckles that dotted along his cheeks and nose. You nodded once before reaching up and touching his face with your free hand, stroking your thumb over his cheek.

"I'm in love with you, Eddie."

He let out an incredulous little sigh as his eyes quickly shifted down to your lips. Your tummy was fluttering with butterflies by now, "may I kiss you?"

"I hope so," with Eddie there were no nerves, only sheer excitement, "we've waited long enough for this."

That was all he needed before he closed the small bit of remaining distance and pressed his lips to yours. You couldn't help the small sigh that escaped your lips as you leaned into him, wanting every bit of him. As he continued to kiss you, you crawled into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

Eddie was pretty sure he was in heaven as his hands settled on the soft, warm skin of your hips. There was no learning curve with him, it just all felt right and natural, like the two of you had been doing it forever.

He kissed you dizzy and neither of you pulled away until you were breathless. He pressed his forehead to yours and took your face tenderly in his hands.

"This is better than I ever imagined," he confessed sheepishly. You could feel that he was getting hard as you rocked yourself against him, "fuck, sweetheart."

"Don't stop," you whispered, leaning in to kiss him again, "don't ever stop kissing me."

"Sweetheart," he was breathing hard, his entire world being rocked by you, "if we keep going I'm not sure I'll be able to stop. And I don't want to push you or make you do anything you don't want to."

"I want this," you were kissing along his jaw and neck, finally marking what had always been yours, "I want you. And not just now, but always."

"O-okay," he was having a hard time not losing it and cumming in his pants like a teenager at the feeling of your lips and hands all over his skin, "me too."

"I love you, Eddie," you stopped and softly kissed his lips, "so much."

"I love you too, angel," he nudged his nose against yours, "happy Halloween."

"Eddie," your laugh was like magic. You both knew you'd remember this day and this Halloween for the rest of your lives, "happy Halloween, love."

[katskitoshi]

May I please have this? https://www.tumblr.com/katskitoshi/696416151501209600/sheepy-twisted-wonderland?source=share

But instead of sheep a Bunny and with the other dorms?

Thx Love your work!!!<3

"MY CUTE LITTLE BUNNY!" with TWISTED WONDERLAND.

synopsis: you thought you would be prepared to never let another sheepy incident happen again. however, you clearly underestimate your friend's ability to ruin your life. but this time, you turn into a fluffy little bunny rather than a fluffy little sheep.

characters: riddle, trey, cater, ace, deuce, leona, ruggie, jack, azul, jade, floyd, kalim, jamil, vil, rook, epel, idia, ortho, malleus, lilia, silver, & sebek x fem! reader

you took extra precautions to try to prevent yourself in an alchemy incident. you watched each ingredient go in, stopped horse playing and petty fights, and double-triple made sure the order of each ingredient was correct. somehow, after a miscalculation or addition of some unknown substance (grim added something without telling you), your body turns into [color] smoke and you shrink down a bunch of feet.

you're no taller than grim now, with cute floppy ears, a fluffy tail, and a cute twitching nose thats flicking especially fast from stress. and just like before, you're left in the hands of the dorms as crewel looks for a way to turn you back. let's see how they do, yeah?

HEARTSLABYUL is a pretty safe place for a bunny like yourself! nice roses, cute animal friends, and nice tea parties you get to be apart of. it's easy to get lost in the twisty-turvy halls, but it's still a pretty dorm for a pretty bunny!

riddle is a pretty suitable caretaker. you're fed each meal, which is surprisingly more than carrots thanks to trey. he'll brush your fluffy coat and keep you looking as proper as possible! a nice, long bath is due after a tiring day of hanging out with the hedgehogs and flamingos, and he's pretty good at restoring your fluffy coat to it's former glory. once bed time rolls around, he'll let you take one half of his bed and he'll take the other. if you hop into his arms while he sleeps, he won't push you away. however, if you nudge at him with cute pleading bunny eyes for a bite of his tart he will. he loves you dearly, but he will not share his tart with you while you're in bunny form. that's a treat reserved only for when you're human.

trey is your sole reason for sanity. you thought you'd be fed carrots and lettuce all day, but he's able to whip your vegetables into anything you wish. carrot cake, sugar free fruit tarts, hay biscuits. any food you could think of, trey will try and most likely succeed in making it perfect for your bunny tummy. besides his amazing cooking, trey's good at grooming and reading you. he absolutely loves your little ear or nose twitches! if you're good, he'll let you help him bake or collect some ingredients. but only if you're good, okay?

pretty predictably, cater is thrilled about your transformation! it's super cute and magicammable. don't worry, he has his phone, a brush, and a cute diamond hair clip on standby as soon as you enter his care. it's time for a makeover! he'll manage your fluffy fur into a nice style with the hair clip and take a bunch of pictures. once that's done, he'll take you out to the rose garden and just talk for hours with you. he takes notice of your every reaction and pets your cute ears in response. if you couldn't tell, he loves them. but it might be obvious due to how often his hands will gravitate towards them and just fondle them. gah, you're so cute! all these pictures might overtake his sheepy one!

ace was supposed to be beheaded for his crimes, but he seems to like punishment. somehow, he got his hands on you and you're terrified. but this time, it's all for nothing. surprisingly, ace was a much better caretaker than before. he fed you and kept you out of harms way enough the survive your time with him. but ace made his time with you special. a little dream of his was to pull a rabbit out of a hat, so he used a small teleportation spell to transport you from his bed, to be slowly pulled out of his top hat. with a "ta-da~!" leaving his lips, you begged to go again! it was fun, and ace was finally not putting you in harms way so its a win win.

sweet deuce always wanted a bunny growing up. he never got one, but perhaps this mishap was a blessing in disguise. he hugged you close to his chest gently when he first got to hold you and smiled brightly. deuce is a great caretaker. he'll bring you whatever you want, even if you shouldn't eat/have it, and he'll let you play outside for a nice long time! all he asks for in return are some cute snuggles and to let him pet your ears. his dreams will come true!

perhaps letting you stay in SAVANACLAW for a bit was a mistake. it was hot and scary. the blazing sun and dry conditions were nice, but the sand blowing in your face and wool was not. oh, and not to mention you were at the bottom of the food chain here. i mean, who's brilliant idea was it to keep a prey and a dorm full of predators?

be lucky leona values human you a bit. if he hadn't, who knows what would've happened to you? maybe a big, scary beastman would snatch you up, tun you into bunny stew, and eat you for dinner with no remorse. leona'll tell you all those things to try and scare you, but sevens forbid once of the losers in his dorm lay a hand on you. then, they'll turn into beastman stew and leona will slurp them up and go right back to bed while using you as a pillow.

how adorable could you get? ruggie will chuckle at your new form, his familiar laugh and smile making you feel a bit less stressed about the situation. as usual, leona will throw ruggie some money to take care of you, only use a bit for you and pocket the rest. he still cares, so he'll even watch you frolic and play around the botanical gardens or fields of savanaclaw.

jack is such a good boy, as always. he always takes care of you and does it pretty well. nice meals and groomings obviously. he'll also let you play around outside if you get bored, or do anything your little bunny brain wants. as long as it's in reason, he'll give it at least a thought. so, to put it short: no, [name], jack will not let you go inside the microwave to see what it feels like.

when approaching OCTAVINELLE, your best decision is to hop as far as you can and as fast as you can. but unfortunately, that cannot help your poor, unfortunate bunny soul for there are eels and octopuses that stop you from going before the fun begins.

dollar signs ring in azul's head as he hears about your form. hooray! marketing! you can either sit pretty in the eating area of the lounge or in his office for private pet sessions. for the cheap price of 1000 madol, a student can pet your cute little bunny ears. besides being a marketing tool for him, he cares for you pretty well.

jade drugs you. nothing more to say than that he wanted to give you some mushrooms and well, bunnies don't fair well with them. next thing you know, you're hallucinating carrots and [favorite food] and begin chomping away at him. jade only laughs. he's an okay caretaker. but he much enjoys seeing you woozy from just a common mushroom. he really wants to see what happens to you with psychedelics.

look, when you said you wanted to go in the microwave, you were joking! floyd attempts part 2 of attempting to cook his crush. it was crazy, honestly. floyd seemed to learn no lesson! but at least your so squeezable in this form! ah, his cuteness aggression is kicking in! he's still harsh, but at least the number of injuries has decreased. so perhaps something has changed. but let's not forget of his crimes. attempted microwave cooking, attempted drowning, yanking your ears, flicking your nose, and quite a few more that will most likely not end up on his record but should.

similar to savanaclaw, SCARABIA is a dorm with great living conditions for bunnies! most of the time, the dorm members are nice and the dry ground is fun to dig in.

kalim had changed a lot since last time. he's a lot better at taking care of you. if it's too warm, he'll make a little oasis. for you to swim in or drink out of. he'll let you hop around the desert planes of scarabia but he'll most likely lose you. and when he pets you, he's a bit rough from cuteness aggression, but he loves you and treats you like royalty nonetheless.

jamil is again your main caretaker, and again one of the best people you can end up with. nice food, well taken care of, lovely head-rubs and all sorts of affections. i'd like to believe that once upon a time kalim or one of his siblings had a rabbit and it turned into jamil's responsibility to take care of it. who would've know that their negligence would help him?

hopping into POMEFIORE was lovely. the scenery was breathtaking and it smelled of fresh fruits and apples. this is one of the only dorms you can hop around and just find food lying there. nice fields to get lost in, nice waters to swim in. this dorm is like bunny heaven!

vil is a great caretaker, and he'll carry you wherever you need to go. you know this little poodle pouch bag things, vil owns one just for you. after treating your wool, whiskers, and paws and such, he'll plop you right into his little bag and stroll around pomefiore to invoke the jealous stares of his dorm mates. now, you're the prettiest bunny with the prettiest man to carry you around!

you know those fields you like to get lost in? yeah, you're never really lost because rook always has his eye on you. he loves you as a bunny dearly. taking photos at every moment or chasing you just to see your ears and nose twitch in fear. it's hilarious to him! and insane for you to think he wouldn't just love to sneak up behind you, grab you, and hold you to his chest while giving you kisses all over your little bunny head and ears. as soon as you're back in human form, he'll give you some real kisses while he forces you to look at all the cute bunny pictures he has!

sweet epel shares his apples with you. back home, he was familiar with bunnies as they'd come into the orchard and try to steal apples. he'll cut them up into cute shapes for you so you don't have to hit the trees to try to get them to fall for you. again, he'll carve you a little apple figurine of you in bunny form. epel'll share some sweet moments of just talking as he rambles into his southern accent, like he used to do back home, but instead he's just rambling onto his crush.

IGNIHYDE is freezing! but luckily you have nice thick, fluffy wool to cover you and keep you warm. it's a refreshing change from the warm weather of other dorms, but one things the other dorms were definitely better at was their natural aspects. there was barely any outdoorsy space for you to frolic in!

idia has never considered having a garden in ignihyde, but your pleading bunny eyes and downturned ears somehow convince him. next thing you know, idia's had a small garden built for you to jump around in. he even leaves his room to watch you. when you aren't in his garden, he's sit you on his desk or lap and pet your ears as he games or something. perhaps he'll even give you some pomegranates to snack on. oops! looks like you have to stay in ignihyde just a bit longer~!

ortho is darling, really. he searches the web for how to perfectly care for you and caters to your every need. he even helps convince idia to make you that garden. he'll even take you to the gardens of night raven for you to be able to play around properly, and buy you some bunny feed. overall, good job ortho! he's a good caretaker.

DIASOMNIA is a scary place for a little bunny like yourself. oh, you thought you were being towered over in other dorms? that's funny! people are like giants here, and you haven't been this scared since octavinelle.

of course, malleus was left out of the meeting that explained that you would be passing through the dorm's care. he went to ramshackle expecting you, only to find you were at his dorm! he teleports there immediately, and smiles once he get's to hold you. he didn't think you could get any smaller! malleus was more interested in stone animals than anything, but a cute breathing bunny is fun too. especially when it's his child of man.

lillia should not be left in charge to care for you. well, at first he shouldn't. he'll play the ropes a bit and is quite rough at first. pulling your ears a bit and flicking your nose a bit too hard, but he'll suddenly flip a switch and is super gentle and sweet. nice pets, kind words, the whole kindness bundle. but then, he tries to feed you. and you're certain it was all a act to get you to trust him and for him to feed you his awful food! once you're human again, he'll wonder why you have a little grudge with him, not understanding that he's nearly killed you with his food.

silver is missing in action. not a bad caretaker or a good one. but he naturally has animals gravitate to him so he barely noticed having you hop in. once he familiarizes himself with you and realizes you're not just some woodland creature, you're his friend and his crush, he'll straighten up his act a bit and make sure you're taken care of especially. although it makes the other animals jealous, silver can't help but hold you specifically while he's sleeping. it's so sweet!

sebek is okay. he's not all that familiar with animals, but can hold his own in taking care of you. you're fed pretty nice meals but not given that much affection. his cuteness aggression might kick in, so he refrains from it. he'll also try to watch his voice, because he knows it'll hurt your ears if he's too loud.

[weebsinstash]

They often say food can be a language of love, and one of the things that started driving Suguru into a deeper depression was eating curses that tasted horribly disgusting and then also not being able to eat normal food, so I was thinking about a story concept where Reader through whatever means can actually give Geto his sense of taste back and actually ease the discomfort he experiences when eating curses, and he forms a deep gratitude/obsession/love because of it

Obviously i publish yandere stuff but it doesn't mean up in Brain Land that I don't think of other ideas, action, adventure, what not, and recently I've been thinking of -also this was kind of for yandere purposes too actually lmao- Reader having a technique along the lines of "Cursed Memory Manipulation"

You can manipulate curses just like Geto, only you do it by affecting their memories into thinking you're an ally or friend or master or whatever gets them to obey. There are limits, but if it's some mindless creature, you're basically a Pokemon trainer. But I was thinking, can you imagine being his classmate who he has way too much depression to fully pay attention to, he's eating less, he's losing weight, losing sleep, and one day you're eating lunch near him and see he's struggling to keep food down, and he leaks vague details about how he keeps thinking about the taste of curses and how food doesn't taste the same.

Here you are, genuinely wanting to help him, just casually like, "well, what if I take a bite of this food, and then when you take a bite, I put my memory of what it tasted like in your head while we eat together" and it's some spur of the moment idea that he's too tired to argue against you about, so he does it to humor you and get it over with and. It works? It actually works??? He can taste and the world is beautiful again?

Oh sure, it starts off sharing lunches with him, but he's basically unable to normally eat without you, so, he all but glues himself to you at all times so you can eat all your meals together. At his worst, a yandere Geto would just immediately outright insist on if not demand marriage, because how ELSE are you two going to share every meal together? He may even force you to cook for him to make the meals you two eat all the more special. You're just his little Patron Saint of Snacks who can actually give him an appetite again

And I guess as a bonus, the idea I was originally tacking the concept of Cursed Memory Manipulation onto was, vague but, it was the idea of, what if Reader is losing a fight and is at genuine risk of being killed and you use your technique to fill your attacker with memories of you, and maybe you don't exactly have time to think and it turns out to be something really personal, something really intimate, whatever can get this person or creature or curse or whatever to stop attacking you. Sukuna suddenly remembering you as an old flame who he suddenly has too many fond memories of fucking to simply kill you. Mahito stops himself from slicing you open when he's suddenly recalling playing all kinds of games with you, running around as kids, memories of a childhood that didn't exist yet appeals to his young heart.

It's also totally different but I've also thought about 1. What if Sukuna gets in Itadori and finds out the young man isnt all there when it comes to you with Sukuna absorbing some of Yuuji's feelings for you, and then when he jumps to, his current host, HE ALSO had feelings for you, so now Sukuna is like secondhand driven mad with yandere fever and 2. What if after Kenjaku bodysnatches Geto, he runs into you again one day and all of Suguru's repressed and Strong STRONG feelings for you start surging forth and Kenjaku just HAS to keep you around as his new pet at the very least because he just can't shake all these new obsessive thoughts and the literal goosebumps he gets when he looks at you

[pearlesscentt]

love in the little things : svt hip-hop unit

── alternatively: the times when actions whisper softly, but the love speaks volumes.

svt (hiphop unit) x reader, established relationship, fluff , 642 words

vocal unit | performance unit

꒰ 🫧 ꒱ — there's a sense of calmness that SEUNGCHEOL feels when he drives around with you right by his side. whether it's the daily commute to work or a night out with your friends, he insists on being the one to take you there. "i find peace in it," he said one time when you asked him about it.

and sure, the experience of driving beside him is a joy in its own right, but what tugs at your heartstrings the most is his steadfast commitment to punctuality. you had mentioned to him once how being made to wait on your own makes you anxious; he understood this unease, that's why he never lets you experience that anxiety. it washes you with relief and comfort to see him patiently waiting for you when you get out the door.

for more of this, check out open road promises.

꒰ 🫧 ꒱ — like the pitter-patter of the raindrops, it became a pattern on countless occasions already. it was instinct for WONWOO that every time it rained; he would subtly shift the umbrella he was holding up for the both you, so that you would get more than enough shade to keep you dry.

whether it was a drizzle or a downpour, he would position the umbrella at an angle just to give you more shelter. every now and then, he would even steal glances at you to make sure you were comfortable, without a care for the rain-soaked shirt clinging to his arm. it was a gesture he never talked about and never seem to have to think twice about — his tiny habit that means so much to you.

in the midst of the rain, wonwoo never fails to wrap you up in the most beautiful kind of warmth.

꒰ 🫧 ꒱ — with his wholehearted belief that what's his is yours, MINGYU loves to give you the best bites of every food he eats. initially, you thought it was just a simple act of sharing, which was already sweet in itself. yet, during a cozy movie night at his place, the realization hit as you both were enjoying a bag of gummy bears. it dawned on you that he had been actively avoiding your favorite colors, making sure that you had them all to yourself.

since that moment, you grew more aware of it: the cheesiest slice of pizza, the fudgiest corner of a brownie, the juiciest chicken drumsticks, the scoop of ice cream with the largest chunk of cookie dough, and the portion of the corn dog with the perfect cheese-to-dough ratio, among many others. his smile that radiates joy and fulfillment every time he does it — a wordless testament to his love for you.

꒰ 🫧 ꒱ — you smiled as soon as you saw VERNON's name flash on your phone screen. though you never know what to expect, it was a familiar occurrence in your day-to-day — his penchant for sending you the most random texts in the most random times throughout the day.

"look what i just saw that reminded me of you!" one of them read, it was then followed by a picture of puddle in the shape of a heart. this has become a delightful routine that never ceases to make your heart jump every time you feel your phone vibrate, notifying you of a new message. but it doesn't stop with images of heart-shaped objects; he sends factoids ("did you know that honey never spoils?"), casual updates of what he's up to ("babe i spilled water on myself and now i look like i peed my pants"), little reminders for you ("don't forget to eat today okay?"), and your favorite of all, his tiny confessions of love ("i love you and i can't wait to see you later!").

the spontaneity of it is what you loved about it. the thought that during arbitrary moments in his day, his thoughts are filled with you.

svt masterlist | navigation ── reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated !

© 2023 PEARLESSCENTT. please do not steal my works.

[eli0004]

Fuck me With Feelings

Pairing: Fwb!Jean Kirstein x reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: Jean and reader have been casually fucking, but Jean quickly learns that the whole no strings attached thing isn’t working for him. After confessing to reader, he’s unsatisfied with her response, but neglects to say anything and resumes their meetups as usual. He quickly finds out how badly he misunderstood, when the two of them engage in some very heavy, passionate and emotional sex on the kitchen floor.

Contains: marijuana usage, fem!reader, unprotected sex, fwb arrangement, praise, slight overstimulation, jean talks too much, biting, possessiveness, pining, jean is in love and SO soft for reader, fluffy shit, yk…the usual, no power dynamics.

“Wait…grab me the salt” You speak, lowering the cookbook to look at the tall male standing in front of you.

“Salt.” Jean announces as he sets the small white shaker on the counter beside you. You nod curtly, glancing at him out of the corner of your bleary red eyes with a smile as you turn back to the mixing bowl in front of you. Time is moving in slow motion, and all you can think about is getting some food in your stomach.

“Thanks. Now, it says we’re supposed to pour the mixture into the pan? Wait…shit, aren’t we supposed to butter the pan first?”

The two of you look at each other in shared confusion for a moment, before he begins laughing. You scoff in annoyance, rolling your eyes and shoving the cook book towards him to see for himself.

“Jesus Jean, can you be serious for 5 minutes?” You glare. The sandy-blonde stops laughing and looks at you with an unreadable expression, brown eyes glimmering with mischief before you both erupt in laughter.

As the giggles die out, he pokes at your side, causing you to jump in surprise, before stepping away from the counter.

“Alright alright, out of the way.” He sighs happily, taking the bowl from your hand. “Just leave it to the professional.” He turns up his nose, grinning playfully, as you roll your eyes and groan at his feigned arrogance. You slap his shoulder as you move away from the counter to change the music playing through your kitchen speaker.

It’s a Friday night, and the rain is coming down in sheets, slamming against your windows aggressively. Jean, dressed in a pair of grey sweats and a black oversized hoodie, had come over earlier in the evening as he has so many times before, although this time in particular, different from the rest. His demeanor had seemed slightly off, and it was clear something was on his mind, though he only seemed frustrated when you’d initially prodded.

The two of you had been seeing each other for months in secret, having mutual friends who would tease you both relentlessly if they found out you two were fucking. Because that’s all it was anyway, just harmless fucking. No strings attached, just blowing off steam. There wasn’t any need to announce it, and the both of you would’ve rather kept your business to yourselves anyway.

As time went on, however, Jean found himself hopelessly in love, having accidentally attached all the strings you’d told him to leave unattached. Your twinkling eyes, your sweet smile, the first thought he thinks in the morning, the last one of the night. Unbeknownst to him, the feeling was mutual, and you’d also quickly found yourself wanting to spend more time together outside of the bedroom. Earlier that morning, in a burst of courage Jean had texted you:

“i don’t think i can keep fucking with no feelings. I’m sorry…i just don’t know how to turn them off.”

Without much thought, you typed out a response:

“Ok…fuck me with feelings then. Duh.”

And that was that. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, stomach in knots all day, and a permanent frown etched onto his face. He felt defeated, stupid, for thinking he could stay away from you even if you didn’t feel the same.

The day progressed as usual, Jean arrived at your place 8 PM as usual, the two of you got violently high together as usual. By midnight, hungry and handsy, the two of you ended up in the kitchen trying to follow a recipe for skillet gnocchi, despite your altered cognitive abilities.

“Professional” Jean Kirstein is actually pretty good at cooking when he isn’t stoned out of his mind. But the task at hand is proving to be difficult now. The man stares at the skillet on the stove in confusion as you flip through your Spotify playlist. Recognizing the silence, you turn to him and glance over his shoulder.

“Everything ok over there?” You ask, raising a brow.

“Nothing is happening.” He states, matter of factly.

“Did you turn on the stove?”

“Oh..” He blushes furiously, thick brows pulling together as he scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Well, shit” You immediately burst into laughter, slapping his shoulder a second time, affectionately.

“Wow! So “professional” of you!” You all but shout, doubled over against the counter and clutching your stomach. He rolls his hazy honey brown eyes, unamused at your exploitative jokes.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” He grumbles, turning away from you to find the stove dial. You sigh contentedly as your laughter subsides.

“Oh Jeanbo~ you’re so fucking cute…” you hum mindlessly, gazing at him with a dopey smile.

…

Jean freezes. It’s the first time he’s ever really heard you say something like that, and the affection dripping from your words has his stomach fluttering and his mind reeling. It’s unfair, really, and it irritates him. He turns to look at you in surprise, brows furrowed, eyes meeting yours before he looks to the ceiling. His reddened cheeks puff out as he contemplates a response.

“Uh…you mean that?” He asks, suddenly feeling vulnerable. His eyes scan your face for any signs of dishonesty, wondering if you might be playing with his heart to get what you want from him. The way you’ve been speaking to him tonight is so drastically different than how you’ve been treating him for the last few months. Not that you’ve been treating him poorly, you’ve just never been this open about how you feel towards him. Your words feel deliberate and meaningful whereas before you’d only compliment him like that when your eyes were lust-blown and your hands were all over his body.

“Obviously, i thought we established that this morning” you deadpan, head tilting to the side.

“No, not really, i actually had no idea what to make of it.”

There’s a moment of silence as you two stare at each other, before the realization hits and you begin to feel guilty. Had your message not been as clear as you’d initially hoped it would be? Unsure of what to say, you close your mouth. Jean takes your silence as confirmation, and sighs, shoulders slumping dejectedly, quietly turning back to the stove to turn it on.

Thinking for a moment, you frown, drawing shapes on the countertop with eyes cast down like a kicked puppy. Wiggling out of your seat, you approach him where he stands at the stove, gazing up at him with a soft, nearly sympathetic smile. He doesn’t dare look at you, afraid his burning face will betray him, knocking down his mask of fragile-aloofness.

“Jean…” you tilt your head to the side, hair falling over your shoulder. Bringing a hand to his back, you draw slow, gentle circles there. He shivers, but his silence is unwavering. “Baby~ you know something?” You hum.

Jean glances at you and shrugs, tossing some stuff you don’t care to look at into the pan.

“I think you’re so handsome. I think you’re adorable, and goofy, and sweet. I think anyone would be lucky to be the object of your affection. I feel lucky that i get to be…” you coo at him, your hand dipping below his hoodie to scratch his bare back, how he likes it. He can’t help but smile at your words, blinking slowly as he turns to look down at you, your faces only a few inches apart from each other. “Yeah?” He whispers “go on”

You snort, rolling your eyes playfully at his blatant request for praise, and reach out to click the stove off, having a feeling about where this was going to lead.

“You’re funny, you always make me laugh…“ you whisper “You’re strong” squeezing his bicep slightly with your other hand, you rake your eyes down his body. “So sexy~”

The man’s cheeks are impossibly red, his head is spinning and his body feels like it’s burning up as he listens to you sing his praises. He glances down at your lips, nearly nose to nose with you as he grins. “What else?”

You smirk, beckoning him to turn and face you head on and pressing your body against his own. Your hands place themselves on his chest as you murmur “You’re all mine.”

Something feral snaps within him and he all but attacks your lips, pinning your hips against the counter with his own. Your hands scramble to grab onto the fabric of his hoodie, desperately yanking at it as you peel it off of him. Your lips dance together fervently, pressing against each other with such passion, as if he’s worried you’ll slip away from him if he doesn’t hold you tightly enough.

He shoves his hands under your college sweatshirt, running his warm palms over your bare breasts and brushing his thumbs over your peaked nipples. His touch draws a sharp gasp from your mouth against his lips, and he swallows the sound of it.

You lick against his bottom lip and he accepts it urgently, parting his lips and moving his eager tongue in rhythm with your own. Tangling your hands into the roots of his sandy blonde hair, you push your hips forward to grind against his erection and he throbs, soft, sweet groans muffled against your lips.

Jean grips your waist tightly, pulling you against him as he backs himself up against the counter, sliding down to the floor. Pulling you on top of him, he settles you against his lap, tossing his head back when your lips attach to the column of his throat.

“Fuck baby…fuck” he gasps, feeling you sucking bruises into the skin. All visible places, and he knows why. The possessiveness, the feeling of finally belonging to you, it sends waves of intense arousal coursing through his bloodstream. Every movement you make, grinding your hips down against his hard cock sends his mind reeling with pleasure, senses wildly heightened by the pot in your systems.

“Gonna tell everyone that you’re mine baby, i’m so…fuck- happy you’re mine” he groans, guiding your hips to move against. You gasp softly at the friction, becoming increasingly wetter by the minute.

You pull away and quickly shimmy out of your pants, as best as you can while straddling the man’s lap. He brings his fingers down, eyeing the cute panties you wear before yanking them aside to collect your arousal on his fingers.

“Fuck..you’re so wet for me, all for me” he growls as he dips his slick digits into your pussy. His fingers are long, nimble, and curl up deliciously into the spongy spot inside you. You moan softly, feeling every inch of his middle and forefinger in places that your own fingers could never hope to reach.

“Oh god..Jean~ Fuck me” you moan out, rutting against his hand. He slides his fingers out of your hole, rubbing them against your clit and covering it in your own arousal. Tossing your head back, you groan at the loss of internal sensation, but you have no time to be disappointed as you hear him eagerly yanking the waistband of his sweats and underwear down to let his aching cock spring free. He’s leaking more than you’ve ever seen, precum dripping down the slit of his sensitive head and collecting below his navel.

Leaning in for another eager kiss, you swat his hand away and wrap your fingers around his shaft. He’s so deliciously thick, you can almost feel the stretch, the memory of it causing your cunt to throb. Biting his lip gently, you give him a few languid strokes, spreading the sticky precum over the length of him and guiding him to your entrance. His mind is hazy, he jolts as the sensation overwhelms him. You feel different this time, though he can’t pinpoint why.

You slide his tip through the slick folds of your pussy, before enveloping him in your wet warmth. jean nearly chokes on the strangled moan that erupts from his chest as you pull away from the kiss to toss your head back, breathing out a soft “fuck”.

His hands eagerly grip your waist, guiding you up and down on him slow and passionate. The pleasure coursing through him is building quickly in the form of an impending, earth shattering orgasm at the very core of his abdomen. The coil in his tummy, while not unfamiliar, is seemingly more intense than it’s ever been, he won’t last long. Why is he getting close so fast?

Suddenly it occurs to him as you bring your lips back to his own, kissing him passionately, and packed full of raw, unfiltered emotion. He feels wanted, he feels loved, he feels complete. Perhaps it’s the intimacy of having himself sheathed inside of you raw for the first time, it must be. Sex with you has never felt so intense and fulfilling than it does in this moment.

Your hips are moving quicker now as you chase your orgasm, every inch, every ridge, every vein of his length stroking your insides like it was hand crafted to fit there. Feeling your legs tense up, and your stomach begin to tighten, you throw your arms around Jean’s neck and pull him close, biting down on the muscle of his broad shoulder as you cum impossibly hard, eyes rolling back with a loud moan. He snakes his arms around your waist, holding you tightly there as he snaps his hips up into you, slamming into your cervix like his life depends on it. The feeling of your teeth in his skin threatens to push him over the edge.

“Baby! Right there- oh god keep doing that, don’t let go of me!” He rasps against the shell of your ear, and as you sink your teeth in deeper, mewling softly at the overstimulation, Jean cums with such intensity, he thinks he might ascend. More and more spurts out of him, and his body convulses with every rope of it, lurching him forward to moan loudly, muffled into your hair.

The sound of ragged breaths and sharp gasps echo off the kitchen walls as you both come down from the high of your orgasm, bodies tangled together and unmoving. After a minute, Jean’s hand finds itself in your hair, running his fingers through it affectionately. Something he’s wanted to do for a long time. He gazes down at you with adoration replacing old lust, smiling softly as you pull back to look at him.

The two of you stay that way for a minute or two, just panting against each other before he speaks.

“So…uh- does this mean-“ he glances down at the floor and then back up to meet your eyes.

“You’re never gonna get away from me” you grin, plopping down against his chest in exhaustion as you giggle slightly. He bites his lip, excitement bubbling up in him like a little kid, as he holds you tightly.

“Why would i ever wanna?”

[gimmeurtmi]

routine — seungmin

pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader

tags: getting together, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, dry humping, making out, messing around over clothes, shy!reader turned brave, bestie han for a minute, cheesy ending bc i couldn’t help myself, unspecified relationship

inspo: requested by anon! Humbly requests dry humping with Seungmin👀

notes: some of you might’ve noticed kim seungmin has captured me in his spell. this is the first of many minnie fics i have to write to deal with my feelings. thank you. rbs and feedback are much appreciated 🫶🏻

{ wc: 2462 }

Your routine with Seungmin was quite simple. You’d come over to the dorm when the other boys were busy and get to spend some time alone with him. He usually put something on the TV—a reality contest about singers, but he never watched the episodes chronologically, so singers would disappear and reappear every time you watched another one. Sometimes he’d watch the finale before the auditions.

You thought it was crazy, but the truth was you weren’t there to watch the singing competition with him.

You were there to spend time with your crush.

After watching two episodes he’d order some food (almost always getting you the pork belly you liked) and then you two would eat.

Then you’d talk about things. He’d share the troubles he had at work and you’d share your stresses and then he’d crack a joke or two and then you talked about happier things and without fail, his head would end up in your lap as you played with his wonderful hair.

Once the silence settled around the pair of you, Seungmin would stretch, yawn, and ask you if he could kiss you.

He’d kiss you for a few minutes, softly, and then he’d ask if it was time for you to head home since it was getting late.

The routine was like clockwork.

And like clockwork, Seungmin would ignore the kisses you shared once they were done.

You did complain about the situation to your best friend, Jisung, who sadly was also Seungmin’s best friend. All Jisung had to say was, “but you like him, how is this bad?”

“Because I want more than dinner and some pecks,” you whined.

“Okay. So initiate that,” he shrugged back at you.

“I can’t,” you helpfully explained.

“He’s a coward,” Jisung said simply as he took another spoonful of ice cream, “he’s obviously too scared to start something. So if you want more just do it. What happened to girls can make the first move?”

“Girls can,” you took another bite of the ice cream you were sharing with Jisung, “but I can’t.”

“Then stop complaining.”

“You’re so good at advice, I’m so happy I picked you as my best friend,”

Jisung grinned at you, his cheeks full of ice cream.

“He likes you, he wants to be with you, and with the little schedule you have going on he gets that. Why would he risk it?” Was Jisung actually offering you advice? “If you want more then put on your big girl pants and start something.”

“What I want is to take off my—“

“—no! Don’t wanna hear that!”

You grinned at your best friend before you got back to your ice cream. Perhaps he was right.

**

Next time you saw Seungmin you decided the only way to get a different result would be to break the routine.

As the first episode of the show started you brought your hand in between your bodies. Slowly, you crawled your pinky across the sofa until it touched his hand.

Seungmin did not react at all.

In fact, he remained frozen for the rest of the contestant's song—only reacting when he rolled his eyes at the judge’s praise.

“That guy is biased,” he started, “that wasn’t a good cover, it sounded like karaoke.”

“You should be a judge on one of these shows,” you said, finally gathering the courage to link your fingers together.

Seungmin hummed.

“Maybe when we disband and I—“

“—Ahhhh la la laa!”

He squeezed your hand, a chuckle on his tongue. “what?”

“You’re not allowed to say that word!”

He laughed, his eyes disappearing under his bangs. “Okay.”

You held hands through the whole episode, Seungmin’s thumb rubbing against your palm in rhythm with the songs playing. You liked that a lot.

And then, after you finished the food and telling him all about your big fight with your mum, his head was in your lap again.

You ran your finger through his hair.

It was quiet.

Only this time you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. You had to break the routine. That was the only way. He was going to ask to kiss you and you would say no. You’d say you wanted more. Yes, that was the plan.

“Hey, pretty?” That was different.

You hummed.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Since when do you call me pretty?”

“Since when do you hold my hand?” He asked right back. The hand that wasn’t playing with his hair was resting by his head, and Seungmin had reached out for it and laced your fingers together.

“I dunno,” you mumbled, “I just wanted to.”

“It’s not bad, I like holding your hand,” he looked up at you with a smile, squeezing your hand.

You smiled to yourself, brushing his bangs into his eyes.

“I liked it too,” you said. Seungmin hummed.

The silence took its turn again.

“So.. about that kiss?”

“Oh, uh,” you started.

As soon as something other than ‘yes’ left your lips, Seungmin lifted his head from your lap. He turned to you, eyes wide, waiting for you to say something.

You were still holding hands but one of you had started to sweat and both your palms were now incredibly warm.

“Um, yeah,” you said after a few moments.

“Um, yeah?” He repeated, eyes squinting at you.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about something,” you nodded, “I’m here now.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He offered, almost getting back into position for Phase Three. But you were ready now for Phase Five.

“No, let’s kiss instead.”

So there went your plan to say no. But maybe you already changed too much today—holding hands was a great start and you can just build more from there.

Seungmin brought his hand to your jaw, pulling you closer and pressing his lips against yours.

You let his soft lips take control, like you always did, following his lead and asking for nothing more. He pressed his lips against yours once and then twice, and then he pulled away.

Before you even thought of opening your eyes you leaned forward—kissing him again, pulling him back towards you.

Seungmin reacted instantly, bringing his hand to your waist to keep you this close to him.

You moved against each other, your mind taken over by how soft his lips were.

You moved your hand to his jaw, feeling the way it flexed as he opened his mouth, experimentingly moving his tongue against yours. You hummed, brushing your thumb against his cheek.

When you pushed against him more, trying to get him to lay down he pulled away.

His pupils were blown as he looked at you up and down before his eyes settled on your lips.

“We should keep going,” he said, breathing heavily, “we should definitely do more of that.”

“Then why did you stop, Minnie?”

“The boys are gonna be back in like twenty minutes,” he groaned.

“So? That’s a very long time,” you smiled up at him, massaging your fingers against his scalp.

“Yeah, yeah, but it’s not enough time.”

“Enough? For what?” You asked, hopefully.

“I don’t want us to get carried away and for the boys to see you in a position you don’t want to be seen in,” he explained. You didn’t quite understand.

Well, you did. You just wanted him to say it clearly.

“What kind of position?” You kissed his cheek. When he said nothing you kept kissing him, down his jaw, down his neck, settling on a spot that made him sigh.

You sucked on his skin, grinning to yourself when he let out a groan and squeezed your hips in response. You took that as a sign to keep going.

“Pretty,” he sighed softly.

“Yeah?” You mumbled, licking over the now red spot you created.

“Don’t start something I can’t finish.” It sounded like a warning.

“And who said you can’t finish it?”

“Seventeen minutes isn’t enough,” he said simply.

“Do you always count the minutes before you kick me out?” You chuckled at him.

“No,” he countered, making the sound longer, “I count the minutes until I inevitably need to stop so they don’t come in when we’re in the middle of something.”

You shook your head at his logic. “We could just go to your room and close the door, you know.”

Seungmin looked at you with wide eyes.

Instead of saying anything else—because you made your thoughts pretty clear, you’d say—you leaned forward, grabbing his chin and tilting it upwards, enough to allow you to pepper kisses around his skin. His collarbone peaked out from his oversized shirt collar, the perfect place to plant endless kisses like you always wanted to.

When you pulled away from his skin, both his hands were cupping your head, one in your hair and one on your cheek—pulling you back towards his lips eagerly.

He kissed you with an urgency you’ve never felt from him before.

Your tongues moved against each other as the pair of you gasped, Seungmin’s hands pulling your waist even closer to him, practically dragging you over the couch.

“We have twelve minutes, Minnie,” you teased him with a smirk, pulling away slightly to catch your breath.

But he didn’t react to that. Instead, he used the opportunity to kiss down your neck.

“I’m not stopping,” was all he said, biting your skin before he started sucking on it.

“No one told you to stop,” you sighed as a tingle ran down your neck and towards your spine.

Seungmin bit the skin one more time before he faced you again, his lips wet and shiny as he kissed you for a moment.

Then he stood up. His sweats did very little to conceal the way all this affected him, and you felt a heat spread between your legs when he caught you staring at him.

He offered his hand to you and you quickly took it, standing up and following him to his room.

You’ve never been in his room before except for one other time. You were cold and he told you to just grab the first hoodie you see. That took you about three seconds and you never stepped foot in his room again.

Now, Seungmin locked the door behind him.

You easily laid onto the bed, settling yourself on the pillows as Seungmin climbed on top of you.

He rubbed his thumb in circles against your cheek as he smiled at you, licking his lips. “Hey, pretty.”

“Hey,” you smiled back.

“Can I kiss you?”

You giggled at him, rolling your eyes. “Can you please do more than that already?”

His eyes gleamed at you. “Desperate, are we?”

“Like you’re not fully hard right now?” You shot back.

Seungmin laughed, and then rolled his eyes, and before he could say whatever smug retort was on his lips you pushed your hips up and rubbed against his crotch.

He gasped.

“Yeah, what was that?” You smirked at him.

“Shut up,” he dismissed.

You decided he definitely didn’t have any right to tease you, and so you grabbed his hips and pushed him down—his body meeting yours.

His eyes fluttered shut.

You were going to say something cheeky, he knew, so instead he kissed you as you rolled his hips against yours.

Seungmin hadn’t made a move to take any of your clothes off, or his, but his hips were moving against yours in the best way.

At one point you heard the front door open, and Seungmin pulled away from you, but you quickly grabbed his face and ran your tongue across his lips.

“I don’t care that they’re here, just keep going,” you said in between gasps.

He listened, and quickly got back to kissing you as he dragged his body against yours. You moved up to meet his thrusts, moaning into the kiss as he bumped against your sensitive bud.

You were gasping, grabbing at his arms, doing anything you could to get him closer to you.

And he did everything he could to get you to make those beautiful noises again.

He ran his hands all over you, not even sure where to touch first now that he was touching you. He moved from squeezing your thighs to your arms to your waist to running up and down your stomach until he was brave enough to crawl his hand under your shirt and all the way up to your breasts.

You were wearing one of your bralettes today, which made it much easier for him to simply run his thumb against your bra until he got a reaction from you.

You moaned softly as he rubbed your nipple with a smirk.

“What are you getting cocky about?” You asked, breatheless.

“Just… that I can drive you crazy with minimal effort.”

“I don’t think I’m gonna cum from this, if that’s what’s getting you excited,” you said, bucking your hips up involentarily.

“Who said I’m trying to make you cum?”

You whined at his words, and Seungmin had to remind you the boys were home now, so he licked into your mouth again to keep you quiet.

It was fifteen minutes before midnight when Seungmin pulled away, placing his face in your neck and kissing it lightly as you both caught your breaths.

You had no idea you were going for that long, but you knew your panties were ruined from having soaked through them and that there was a stain on the front of Seungmin’s sweats from where he was leaking.

He ran his hands up and down your sides as you both just breathed.

“Do you need to go home?” He asked, like he always does. But this time it sounded more like a child asking if he had to go to bed and stop playing with his favourite friend.

“Maybe in a bit?” You offered.

Seungmin rubbed circles into your stomach where your shirt was scrunched up your middle. He kissed your cheek.

“Don’t want you to go yet, pretty.”

You ran your hand up his back and then down again, matching the pace of his fingers on your skin. “I hate when you go.”

“You’re the one who kicks me out every time,” you smiled.

“Yeah, but I told you why. I need to stop myself because now I don’t want you to ever leave. I just wanna do this for hours.”

“And what makes you think I don’t want to do this for hours, too?”

Seungmin picked his head up, looking at you bewildered. As if you just told him the most magnificent secret. “I’m…. not sure.”

“So…. can we keep doing this for hours?”

Seungmin didn’t answer, instead brought your lips together and kissed you for an undetermined amount of minutes. Or maybe hours.