#SHOW ME WHAT HE DID TO DESERVE THAT FROM YOU

[lyvhie]

omg hiii, i’ve been in my haechan feels lately, especially with him looking unreal from the seoul shows. can we get possessive haechan?? like i swear that man loves his girl down bad, absolutely in love, and he’s so possessive of her like not in a toxic weird way, but like a hot cute endearing way like a way that would make me push him into the dressing room of a clothes store and give him the most best and deserved head he’s ever gotten bc if there’s anything i love, it’s a man who’s down baddd

── .✦ moments of appreciation

lee donghyuck x fem!reader

𓂃 ࣪˖ ࣪cw: smut, fluff (?), oral (m), deep throat, public sex. 𓂃 ࣪˖ a/n: hi anon... you're so right... i think about this everyday, i meed him in every ways possible, you dont get it... please, enjoy!!! (no, i have nothing for valentine's day, maybe next year, babes 😜😜)

Donghyuck never thought he could love someone the way he loves you. He couldn't quite put into words everything that made him love you, you were simply it for him, perfect in all the right ways.

Yes, you had your imperfections, but to him, love was never about perfection. It wasn't about logic or reason, it simply was. Anyone could love something for all the good it offered, but real love, the kind that mattered, was about embracing everything, even the flaws. And that's exactly how he loved you—completely, without hesitation, without conditions.

He had thought about this before. You could break his heart, shatter him beyond repair, or commit the worst sins imaginable, and he would still love you—helplessly, foolishly. It didn't matter if it sounded irrational, maybe even a little insane. The truth was simple: he would do anything for you, no matter the cost.

But the best part? You were his. No one else's, just his. The thought alone made his chest swell with something dangerously close to obsession. Out of everyone in the world, you had chosen him, and that was a privilege he would never take lightly. You were his, and he was just as much yours, bound to you in a way that felt absolute, unshakable.

And that’s why, even after what felt like days sitting on that little couch, watching you step out of the dressing room in a different outfit each time, he still felt like he was having the best day of his life. Then again, every day felt like the best as long as you were in it.

Really, was there any better way to spend his time than watching his pretty girl try on pretty clothes?

“What do you think about this one?” You asked again, the same question you’d been repeating since the first outfit change.

Donghyuck looked up from his phone, his eyes immediately locking onto you.

“I've never seen anything more beautiful in my life,” he said with a bright smile, letting his gaze travel up and down twice.

“Hyuck, come on,” you rolled your eyes. “You said that the last fifteen times. You’re being useless,” you huffed, crossing your arms.

“How is it my fault that you look stunning in everything?” he shot back, tilting his head with a smirk.

You sighed, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “I need actual feedback, not just you being a flirt.”

Donghyuck leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he gave you a once-over, this time, with a more thoughtful expression. “Okay, fine. Turn around.”

You did as he said, giving him a little twirl before facing him again, an expectant look on your face.

He hummed, tapping his chin dramatically. “I mean… it is a really nice outfit,” he said slowly, making you narrow your eyes at him.

“But?”

“But I still think you are the best part of it,” he grinned, dodging the throw pillow you immediately launched at him.

He got up from his seat, laughing as he walked toward your grumpy figure, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Aw, don't look at me like that, gorgeous," he teased, pressing a kiss to your cheek and chuckling when you turned your face away. "Why are you so worried about this anyway?" he asked, tightening his grip slightly when you tried to pull away.

You hesitated for a moment before sighing. "It's for the reunion," you admitted, avoiding his gaze.

Donghyuck blinked, then tilted his head. "The high school thing?"

"Yes, the high school thing," you huffed. "I don't know, I just... want to look good. It's been years, and I'll be seeing people I haven't seen since we were all awkward teenagers."

His lips curled into a teasing smirk. "Ohhh, I get it now," he cooed. "You wanna show off a little, huh?"

You shot him a glare. "It's not like that—”

"It is like that," he interrupted, grinning. "And honestly? You should. You're hot. Let them eat their hearts out."

Despite yourself, you couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head as he pinched your sides playfully.

"I'm serious, baby. You're stressing over nothing. Just look at you," he said, taking your hand and turning you toward the mirror. His arms wrapped around your waist again, and he rested his chin on your shoulder. "You're breathtaking, the most beautiful woman in the universe and beyond. You could show up in pajamas and still look like a goddess."

You thought you'd be used to his endless flattery by now, but somehow, you never were. It was always sweet, never failing to make your heart skip a beat.

You glanced at him through the mirror, your worries slowly fading as he pressed a soft kiss to your neck.

"You're so dramatic," your tone warm as you rolled your eyes but leaned back into him anyway.

"I'm just telling the truth," he murmured, pressing his nose against your neck. "It's not my fault my overthinking girlfriend needs constant reminders of how stunning she is."

You huffed, but the way your lips twitched betrayed you. "Well, maybe if someone gave me actual opinions instead of just approving everything i wear, I wouldn't have to overthink."

Donghyuck chuckled, swaying you gently in his arms. "Fine, fine. If you really want my expert opinion..." He paused, pretending to scrutinize your reflection in the mirror.

You raised an eyebrow, waiting. "And?”

“Don’t wear this dress.”

“What? Why?” You frowned, glancing at your reflection. “I actually liked this one the most. Does it really look that bad?”

“I never said that,” his hands trailing up and down your waist. “You look incredible, love, but it feels a little too formal for the occasion. The second one you tried fits the vibe better. Plus, it’ll probably be more comfortable… you know, in case we need to make a quick getaway.”

Yeah, he wouldn't admit it, but he wanted you to wear it just for him. You looked too beautiful in it, almost unfairly so, the idea of anyone else seeing you like this, soaking in the sight of you, were a big no-no. Unwanted attention (read: any attention that wasn’t exclusively his) was simply not an option.

“Oh, so you’re already planning our escape before we even get there?” You raised your brows, crossing your arms. “Really?”

Donghyuck chuckled, tightening his grip on your waist as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "Baby, please. I know you," his voice laced with amusement. "You won't last more than an hour before you start getting annoyed at half the people there. You'll smile, nod, pretend to listen, and then, you'll be counting the minutes until we leave."

He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze in the mirror, a smug grin on his lips. "So, yeah, I'm already planning our escape. Just being a good boyfriend and thinking ahead.”

"Okay, maybe you have a point," you teased, rolling your eyes as you turned to face him, looping your arms around his neck. "Guess I should thank my thoughtful boyfriend for planning ahead."

"Just doing the bare minimum for my girl," he smiled, leaning in to steal a quick kiss. "Now that we've finally settled on an outfit and I’ve reminded you how perfect you are, can I spoil you and pay for everything you liked?"

You held his gaze, your heart doing that little flutter it always did when he looked at you like that, like you were his entire universe. It was almost overwhelming, the way his eyes softened, filled with something so pure, so consuming.

If love had a shape, a form, a physical presence, you were sure it lived in the way Haechan looked at you. The same way a loyal pet would gaze at their favorite person, full of unconditional adoration, unwavering and endless. His pupils were blown wide, his expression a mix of devotion and something deeper, something you couldn't quite put into words.

“Baby, please, don’t tell me you’re going to refuse again,” he whined at your silence, pouting a little. “Why do you love to ruin my happiness? It's my duty to—”

“I love you, Lee Donghyuck,” you said softly, cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss.

He was surprise by the sudden words and actions, but his shoulders instantly relaxed as he melted into your embrace. He kissed you back with equal passion, murmuring between the kisses, “I love you too,” before peppering your lips with more soft kisses as you pulled away, only for him to chase after you, craving more of your touch.

You couldn't help but giggle at the way he whined in protest when you pulled away for good, placing your hands on his chest to stop him. Biting your lip, you glanced around before tugging his hand, a playful glint in your eyes as you whispered, "Come with me." And just like that, you pulled him into the dressing room.

"What are you doing?" he asked, slightly confused, though he wasn't exactly opposed to whatever you had in mind.

"Just saying thank you for being the sweetest boyfriend ever," you murmured, sinking to your knees in front of him, your hands sliding up his thighs as you looked up at him.

Oh, he knew exactly what was happening. God, he couldn't believe it. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as his heart pounded, the sight of you like this making his pants uncomfortably tight.

"Are you sure, love?" his voice softer now, laced with anticipation. His eyes flickered to the curtain, hesitant for only a second as you unbuttoned his pants. "This isn't really the best place to—"

A low groan slipped from his lips as your hand firmly cupped his growing hardness, cutting off whatever weak protest he was about to make.

"Be quiet, Hyuck," you scolded, palming him again. He sucked in a sharp breath, biting his bottom lip to stifle any sound as a dark spot began to form on his underwear.

“Fuck, hurry up,” he hissed, any previous hesitation now completely forgotten.

You smirked at his impatience but didn’t tease him, at least, not too much. Slipping your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, you tugged them down just enough to free his cock, standing hard and eager, a bead of precum already glistening at the tip.

You wrapped your fingers around his length, stroking him slowly, savoring the way his breath hitched with each movement. His chest rose and fell in uneven rhythm as he leaned back against the wall, his gaze locked onto you, dark with need. His cock twitched in your grip, another bead of precum spilling from the tip, proof of just how desperate he already was for you.

You merely smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his tip before running your tongue along his length, savoring the way he tensed under your touch. His head fell back against the wall, his breathing growing heavier, his thighs trembling slightly as you took him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and sucking him in deeper.

"Shit—" He bit down on his fist to muffle the groan that nearly slipped, his other hand instinctively threading through your hair, not to control your pace but just to feel you closer, to ground himself in the pleasure you were giving him.

The muffled sounds of the store outside felt like a distant hum, completely drowned out by the way your tongue moved so perfectly against him. His not-so-soft moans filled the small space, each one making your core tighten with satisfaction. You sucked on the tip of his cock before slowly pulling away, letting it slip from your lips with a sinful pop, but your hand never stopped stroking him.

"Hyuck, you're being too loud," you scolded in a hushed tone, glancing up at him with a mix of amusement and warning.

“Don't stop,” he whined, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with desperation. His hips jerked forward instinctively, chasing your warmth. Even the slightest brush of your lips against his tip had his knees trembling.

You let out a soft chuckle, watching the way he was falling apart just from your touch. His fingers tightened in your hair, his knuckles turning white as he fought the urge to push you down onto him the way he so desperately wanted.

“You’re so needy,” you teased, your breath ghosting over his sensitive tip, making him shudder.

“And whose fault is that?” he shot back, his voice strained, breathing heavily.

Instead of answering, you wrapped your lips around him once more, taking him in deeper this time. His head fell back against the wall with a soft thud, a broken moan escaping his lips as his grip in your hair loosened for a moment, only to tighten again when your tongue flicked over his slit.

Was he dead, and this was paradise? If not, it had to be the closest thing to it. His legs nearly gave out when he felt your throat tighten around him, the sudden sensation ripping a loud moan from his lips. Your nails dug into his thighs in warning, silently telling him to keep quiet. He bit down hard on his lower lip, his breathing ragged as he fought to control himself, but with the way your mouth worked on him, it was becoming nearly impossible.

He looked down at you, and what a sight. The way your lips stretched around him, the glint in your eyes as you took him deeper—it was enough to make his head spin. The pleasure was overwhelming, pushing him closer to the edge. His hips moved on their own, chasing that high, silently begging you to go faster, to take him there.

You gave in to his desires, quickening your pace, sucking with more intensity, while your hand skillfully massaged his balls, each movement pushing him closer to the edge. The rhythm of your actions seemed to drive him wild, his breath ragged as he struggled to hold on.

His body tensed, his head spinning as he reached his peak, hot spurts of cum filling your mouth. His fingers tightened in your hair, urging you closer as his hips jerked forward, riding out the last tremors of his climax, unwilling to let go.

You pulled his cock out of your mouth, knowing he would have kept you there if he had his way. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, glancing up to see his face in pure satisfaction, eyes shut and head leaning against the wall. His hand now gently ran through your hair, his breath still heavy as he mumbled how good you were, the words dripping with praise.

You let out a soft giggle, adjusting his clothes as you noticed how disoriented he looked. As you stood up, he finally met your gaze, his eyes dark with desire. Without warning, he leaned in, pulling you into a kiss that was intense yet tender. “God, I love you so much, baby,” he whispered against your lips.

“Me too,” you replied, a playful smile on your face. “I think the whole store heard you,” you teased, gently biting his lower lip before pulling away to meet his gaze.

“Then I guess they know how much I love you now,” he shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, making you laugh. “Maybe I’ll be quieter next time.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Next time? I think this one was enough, don’t you? We could have gotten caught.”

“But we didn’t,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Next time, I’ll make sure you're the one making all the noise.”

↝ taglist: @yizhrt, @sinisxtea, @peterm4rker.

[dreaminguponlilypads]

HOLY FUCK!!! I absolutely adored “punishment”!! You did really well writing it, had me HOOKED

Would love to see a part 2, please (no pressure tho! I appreciate whatever you decide to post <33)

ofccc!!

PUNISHMENT PT.2

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

pt.1

The days that followed were unbearable.

Simon had faced impossible odds before. He had survived missions that should have been his last, endured horrors that would break lesser men. But nothing—nothing—felt as gut-wrenching as the way you now looked through him like he wasn’t even there.

You weren’t avoiding him, not outright. You still showed up for training, still ate meals with the others, still followed orders with the same precision and focus that made you an asset to the team.

But to him? You had gone silent.

Every glance you used to give him—soft, full of warmth—was now vacant. Every touch, every whispered joke between you both, had vanished. If he spoke to you, all he got in return was a clipped nod or a quiet hum of acknowledgment.

He was losing you.

And it was his own damn fault.

Simon tried everything.

At first, he kept it simple—small gestures, reminders that he wasn’t giving up. He’d leave a cup of coffee on your desk the way he used to. You never touched it. He’d linger beside you during training, offering help or pointers. You’d take instruction from anyone but him.

He hated it.

Then, one night, he found himself standing outside your door, his fingers hovering just above the wood.

He had rehearsed what he wanted to say over and over. Had tried to figure out how to fix what he broke. But for the first time in years, words failed him.

So he knocked.

Silence.

He tried again. “Love.” His voice was quiet, rough with emotion.

Nothing.

Simon exhaled sharply, resting his forehead against the door. “Please.”

Still, you didn’t answer.

But he could feel you on the other side.

His hands clenched at his sides. He could walk away. Give you space. But the thought of losing you, of letting this fester, made something cold settle in his chest.

So he did what he had never done before.

He let himself be vulnerable.

“I never deserved you,” he murmured. “I know that.” He let out a slow breath. “And I sure as hell don’t deserve another chance after what I did. But I need you to know… it stopped being a joke the second I met you.”

Silence.

Simon pressed on. “I was an idiot. I thought I didn’t need anyone. That I didn’t deserve anyone. But you—you came into my life, and you made me want more.”

His throat tightened. “You made me better.”

He swallowed hard, his fingers grazing the ring box in his pocket.

“I was going to propose.” His voice was barely above a whisper now. “Not because of a bet. Not because of guilt. But because I love you. Because I want a life with you.”

A long pause. Then—

The door didn’t open.

But he heard the quietest hitch of your breath.

It was enough.

For now.

-

The next day, Simon didn’t push. He didn’t hover, didn’t force conversation. He gave you space.

But during a morning briefing, when he passed by you to take his seat, he caught the smallest thing—

A cup of coffee.

Placed beside his usual seat.

Your silent way of saying you had heard him.

And maybe, just maybe, you weren’t ready to let him go either.

Simon knew better than to rush things.

The coffee had been a small olive branch, but it didn’t mean everything was okay. You were still distant, still guarded, but you hadn’t completely shut him out—and that was enough to keep him from spiraling.

He took it slow. Kept his distance but made sure you knew he was there. When you needed extra ammo at the range, he was the first to hand it over. When you stayed behind after training to work on close-quarters combat, he was the one holding the pads, letting you take out your frustration in controlled strikes.

And when you finally—finally—looked at him without that hollow expression in your eyes, he knew there was still hope.

It was nearly a week later when you finally spoke to him.

You found him sitting outside, mask pulled down, a cigarette burning between his fingers. It was late—most of the base had already settled in for the night. The sky stretched above, dark and endless.

You hesitated.

He noticed.

“Didn’t think I’d see you out here,” he murmured, flicking the ash from his cigarette. He didn’t look at you, didn’t push—just let you decide how much space you needed.

You sat down beside him, leaving just enough distance that he felt the absence of your usual warmth.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Then—

“I don’t know how to fix this.” Your voice was quiet, raw.

Simon inhaled deeply, exhaling a slow stream of smoke before finally turning to look at you. “I don’t either,” he admitted. “But I’ll do whatever it takes.”

You swallowed, your fingers curling around the fabric of your fatigues. “I trusted you.” Your voice wavered slightly. “You made me believe I was worth something, that I—” You exhaled shakily. “And then I find out it started as some bet?”

Regret twisted in his chest. “I know.”

“No, you don’t.” Your voice sharpened, but not with anger—just pain. “You don’t know what it’s like to finally feel wanted, only to realize it was never real to begin with.”

Simon clenched his jaw. “It was real,” he said firmly. “Maybe not at first. And maybe I was too much of a coward to tell you sooner. But everything after that first date? That was real.”

You searched his face, eyes flickering over every inch of him like you were trying to determine if he was telling the truth.

And then, so quietly he almost missed it—

“I don’t know if I can trust you again.”

The words hit harder than any bullet.

For someone who hardly trusted anyone, it sure hurt more than it should've.

Simon exhaled, his grip tightening around the cigarette before he finally put it out. “Then let me earn it back.” His voice was steady, unwavering. “However long it takes.”

You didn’t answer. But you didn’t leave, either.

Instead, after a long silence, you leaned just slightly against him, the smallest shift, barely noticeable—but he felt it.

And Simon knew.

You weren’t ready to forgive him.

But you weren’t ready to walk away, either.

[leeknowsnot]

SKZ when you suddenly call them with their full name

I am posting every entry I have written in my notes app to make it up to you guys. 😭😭😭 Anyway, happy hearts day to everyone!!

CHAN

— his eyebrows are immediately raised and he's looking at you like "Did you just call me with my full name?" with eyes wide enough for you to poke them

— you pretend you don't hear him and just continue on with talking to him and calling him Christopher

— he's immediately on your tail like a kid, asking the same question all over again you can't help but pinch yourself to stop yourself from giggling at how cute he is

— he calls you all sorts of cute nicknames to make you surrender to his cuteness

— eventually you do give up and when you start calling him back with your nickname for him, oh my God he smiles at you so cutely you could just dive into his dimples

— you are spoiled

MINHO

— definitely the type to call you back with your full name

— you challenged the wrong person, now he's gonna be the one who'll call your full name with EVERY sentence he'd say until you admit defeat iT BACKFIRED SO BAD

— evERY CHANCE HE GETS HE'S GONNA DO IT

— especially when you guys are out with friends, he's gonna call your full name WITH YOUR MIDDLE NAME people are gonna start staring

— you start ignoring him whenever he calls you your full name on purpose and oh does that annoy him eventually

— the audacity to ignore him and be annoyed with him when you were the one who started this little game, right?

— "kitten got a taste of her own medicine?"

— he's gonna punish you for being such a bad kitty wink w0nk

CHANGBIN

— his pouts are aLL OVER THE PLACE

— whoever sees him gets a free show over a man with biceps pouting like the big baby he is

— he'd feel a bit off at first but eventually gets used to it eventually cause he dares not to pick on how you want to call him

— even if it's a bit weird, he'll tolerate and learn to accept it if that's what you want

— tELL HIM IT'S JUST A PRANK HE'S TOO WHOLESOME FOR THIS WORLD 😠

— would be weirded out again trying to adjust to being called with his nickname again when you finally stop with your prank

HYUNJIN

— will give you an offended stare as if you just committed a sin

— no cuddles for u because he said you're not his gf and says he doesn't know u

— he's gonna make such a big deal abt it to the point Chan would be calling you in the middle of the night asking you if you guys fought cause Hyunjin's acting so weird, like he's so pouty and edgy

— so when you said it's only because you called him by his government name for a prank, Chan L O S E S it

— you'd find a pouty Hyunjin in the morning, complaining cause Chan gave him an earful for maging a big deal out of your prank

— he basically forgot you were the one who started it . at least he's pouty over Chan instead of you anymore

HAN

— waterworks EVERYWHERE

— how dare you make him cry

— the moment you call him Han Jisung it's over for him

— the London Bridge is falling, Eiffel Tower is collapsing, the icebergs are melting

— "Is he better than me? Is he treating you better at least?"

— sTARTS ASKING QUESTIONS THAT SOUNDS LIKE YOU LOVE SOMEONE ELSE NOW BC HE'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH AND HE THINKS YOU DESERVE BETTER

— expect him pulling all-nighters writing a sad love song

— when you explain to him that it was just a prank, he immediately bursts into tears, either in relief that you still love him or bc you messed with his feelings 💀

— how dare you make him cry pt.2

— turns the sad love song that he wrote into a body roll song

FELIX

— he immediately catches on and knows it's a popular prank trend amongst couples so he plays along

— but ofc he's still making sure it really is a prank and you're not actually mad at him

— your friends would be looking at you both weirdly and think you guys have broken up but maintained good friendship

— his friends only know you by nickname so when they saw your caller id on Felix's phone and it was your actual full name, they were having multiple question marks as to why Felix was being all so chummy and sweet with this (Y/N) on the phone

— the next time you meet them they'd be shaking while trying to tell you that Felix has been cheating on you with someone named (Y/N)

— oh my God you and Felix die from laughter

SEUNGMIN

— tbh he doesn't care

— he'd been trying to get you to stop calling him smookie poo, pookie, moochie bear, and all sorts of nicknames the past weeks so this was actually a win situation for him

— he enjoys it too much he starts frowning at you when you go back to calling him the nicknames

— "Where'd the 'Yah, Kim Seungmin' go?"

— 10 out of 10 he loves the prank, would definitely avail for more 💀

— Now he won't stop demanding you to do it again

I.N

— immediately thinks he did something wrong but he just sITS THERE PROCESSING AND STARING AT YOU WITH HIS FAKE EYES OPEN

— he'd malfunction so bad how can you do this to him

— he's already clumsy as is but bc you're making him overthink, he's unintentionally breaking and dropping stuff all over the place

— in the "is-she breaking-up-with-me/did-she-find-someone-better" lineup

— he doesn't show it tho

— he tries not to at least

— would send you all sorts of gifts; flowers, chocolates, champagne, stuffed toys, you name it—it's his love language

— he'd actually try to win you back from this "new guy"

— when you tell him it's just a prank, he doesn't talk to u for a few days and gives you the silent treatment

— i mean, you obviously had it coming

[jungwnies]

wrong time, right person - carlos sainz (2/4)

୨ৎ : pairing : carlos sainz x fem!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : years after a bitter breakup, you and carlos sainz reunite unexpectedly. old wounds resurface, but so does undeniable love. will history repeat itself?

୨ৎ : genre : romance, angst, humor, drama ୨ৎ : tws : mild language, arguing, friendships ending, bantering, suggestive humor, mentions of alcohol consumption. ୨ৎ : wc : 817

part one | part two | part three | part four

The past was supposed to stay behind you.

You told yourself that more times than you could count. Every time you saw his name trending, every time another headline mentioned his transfer from Ferrari to Williams, every time a new interview clip surfaced on your feed. Carlos Sainz this, Carlos Sainz that.

Your old friends and family still brought him up like he was a permanent fixture in your life.

"Did you hear? He’s moving to Williams." "I saw an interview, he looks different now." "You must be so proud of him."

But you weren’t sure if proud was the right word. Not because he didn’t deserve it, he did, he always did, but because it didn’t involve you anymore.

"That life is behind me." You’d repeat it like a prayer, like if you said it enough times, you’d start to believe it.

And for the most part, you had moved on. Your career had skyrocketed, your face was on billboards in every major city, your name carried weight in the industry. People didn’t just recognize you, they admired you. They wanted to be you.

Carlos couldn’t escape you.

Your face was everywhere he went. Every city, every airport, every magazine stand outside his hotels. It wasn’t just the memories of you haunting him, it was you.

A photo of you staring down at him from a massive billboard in Times Square when he landed in New York for press. A video of you at Paris Fashion Week playing on the airport TV in Italy. A poster of you in a London boutique window while he was out for a run.

He could ignore the memories, the what-ifs, the moments that replayed in his head at night. But how was he supposed to ignore you when you were everywhere?

“Dude, it’s been years,” Alex Albon muttered beside him as they walked through the Williams headquarters. “You need to let it go.”

Carlos scoffed, shaking his head. “It’s not about letting it go.”

Alex gave him a look, unimpressed. “Then what is it about?”

He exhaled sharply. “I just… regret how it ended.”

Alex clapped a hand on his shoulder, offering a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, well, you can’t change the past. Just focus on the season ahead, alright?”

Carlos nodded, but deep down, he knew it wasn’t that easy.

(timeskip)

When your manager called, you weren’t expecting that.

“They want you to attend a Formula 1 race.”

You nearly dropped your phone. “What?”

“It’s a great PR move. You’re at the peak of your career, and showing up at a global sporting event keeps your name relevant in different markets.”

You didn’t miss the hidden implication. F1 fans never really let go of things. You knew exactly what kind of reaction this would get.

“No,” you said immediately. “Absolutely not.”

Your manager sighed. “Look, I get it. But this isn’t about him, it’s about you. You’re bigger than a past relationship. You’re a global name now, and this only makes sense.”

You hesitated, but they kept pushing. “It’s just one weekend. You don’t even have to see him. Go, do the interview, wave at some cameras, and leave.”

You exhaled, rubbing your temples. One weekend.

“…Fine.”

It had been a while since you were last in a Formula 1 city. The sounds, the buzz, the energy. It felt familiar in a way that made your chest tighten.

But this wasn’t for him. This was for you.

You reminded yourself of that as you stepped out onto the bustling streets of Melbourne, sunglasses perched on your nose, blending in as best as you could while shopping for some last-minute outfits before the paddock appearance.

And then it happened.

You turned a corner and froze.

Carlos Sainz was standing right there.

For a split second, neither of you moved.

His expression flickered between shock and something else, something unreadable. Your breath caught in your throat, time stretching impossibly long between the two of you.

He looked different, but also exactly the same. A little older, a little sharper. Still Carlos.

“Hey,” he finally said, voice careful, hesitant.

You swallowed. “Hey.”

The air between you felt too heavy, too thick, too much.

More words could have been said. More things could have been fixed, or shattered even further. But neither of you let it happen.

Instead, there was just an awkward pause, a polite nod, and then,

“Goodbye, Carlos.”

You walked away.

And the paparazzi caught all of it.

Within hours, the internet exploded.

"Old friends reunite in Melbourne?! Is there tension between Carlos and Y/N?" "The past comes crashing back. Will 2025 be Carlos’ season, on and off the track?" "Y/N spotted ahead of the Australian GP. What does this mean for Carlos Sainz?"

The headlines didn’t stop. The photos were everywhere.

And for the first time in years, the world started watching you and Carlos again.

taglist : @willowsnook , @its-avalon-08 , @f1fantasys, (comment to be added)

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[cherriegyuu]

whispers of desire | c.sc | part one

pairing: incubus seungcheol x f!reader  genre: smut, angst, fluff - minors do not interact word count: 7.3k summary: when you cut a deal with the demon king, the man who shows up to help is nothing like you imagined warnings: mentions of god, demons and religion, infertility, infidelity, knives, breeding kink, masturbation, creampie, dirty talking ish, begging, multiple orgarms, unprotected sex, piv, forced orgasm. jeonghan (idk, he deserves a warning too)

a/n: and finally after i don't even know how many months, i finished part one. i really want to thank @ssinboo who not only helped me brainstorm this, but who motivated me into picking it up again. @joonsytip and @nothoughtsjustfic who read it over and promised me that it was good. thank you so much to all three of you, this one would have never left my wips if not for you. i truly hope you enjoy this and if you do please leave comment, i would love to know you thoughts about it! it's 17 minutes past midnight, but i'm going to count this as a valentine's day special

You looked once again at the waiting room—the light gray walls, the black furniture, the small splashes of color here and there. It was mostly modern and imponent but dark. You felt out of place in your bright yellow sweater and almost white pants. You looked like an egg, but when you realized what you had done, it was too late. You were already in the Uber, getting the most incredulous look from the driver. 

The watch on your wrist seemed to mock you. You arrived too early for your appointment, too nervous to stay any longer in your apartment, too queasy to go to the nearby cafe and waste some time. 

You had been sitting on that extremely comfortable couch for 10 minutes, the pretty receptionist giving you suspicious looks followed by insincere smiles. You were so close to just getting up and walking out the door.

It had been a stupid idea. A desperate attempt at one last resort to reaching your dream. The one thing you wanted in life since you were sixteen. But it was, indeed, stupid. How was it possible that a man without a last name, who obviously wasn’t a doctor, could help you get pregnant? Even if he happened to have a magic dick, which you doubted, there was still no chance of you getting pregnant. The problem wasn’t on the sperm donor, it was in you. 

For years, you tried getting pregnant. During the first year you and your husband, now ex-husband, tried in the most natural way: fucked every chance you got, at the most random places, tracking your cycles every month. You knew that for some people getting pregnant took a little more time, so at first, you didn’t think much of it. You managed to convince yourself that the reason why you weren’t getting pregnant was because you had just gotten off birth control and sometimes — most times — the hormones messed up a little too much with the body.

After a year, something felt strange, and little red signs started to go off in your head. It wasn’t natural to take that long, at least according to everyone you knew, so you set a meeting with the doctor and did all the tests in the book. When the results came back and showed that you were infertile it was like the world came crashing down.

In life, many of your plans failed and many of your dreams were taken from you, however being a mother was one that you always carried with you. It was a dream that was yours, truly yours and you didn’t need anyone to make it happen for you. Of course, you couldn’t make a baby on your own, but in the end, it was always your choice. If you didn’t have a husband, you could go to a sperm bank and just choose someone.

Along with your dream, your marriage was also one that didn’t last long. After the initial shock of not being able to have a baby slowly started to pass and the fog that clouded your mind started to lift, you started to think of other ways you could become a mother.  Adoption seemed like a natural path. Your husband, however, didn’t agree with the idea, which led to many fights and eventually a divorce.

The idea of adoption didn't leave you, so you sought out ways to adopt on your own. While the adoption process in itself was excruciatingly difficult as a married person, by yourself was nearly impossible. You went to many people and asked for advice on how to proceed, how to present yourself, what to say and do in front of the social workers. All of them said the same thing “the chances of you getting approved for adoption are very low”.

Every day that went by, with each breath you took, you felt as if the dream of being a mother escaped you, like sand slipping through your fingers.

One day, like many others, you were searching for ways to adopt as a single parent when you came across a forum post talking about an unnamed man who could get anyone to do anything, even things that seemed impossible. You had snorted at the post and almost closed the tap when the word pregnancy seemed to flash in front of your eyes, like a moth drawn to a flame. After you saw it, there was no way you could have closed the tab and moved on to something different. 

You read post after post, comment, after comment, about all of these women who had gotten pregnant after losing all hope. All of them mentioned the same name, Jeonghan. There was no last name. On the very last post was a phone number.

There wasn't enough time to question yourself or your actions, the next thing you knew you had the phone pressed to your ear, setting up a meeting for later that day.

The fact that you were able to set an appointment on such short notice should have made alarms ring in your head. But the alarms only went off while you sat in the waiting room. 

You suddenly stood up and walked to the pretty secretary who was hiding behind the computer.

“Sorry, hi” you waited until she looked at you, and the same polite smile greeted you “Something came up, I need to leave… I'm really sorry”

As the words left your lips the door on the other side of the waiting room opened. A man with a kind smile and hair long enough to cover his forehead greeted you. Despite his smile being inviting, his eyes told an entirely different story. 

“Please, come in”

The little alarms inside your mind suddenly turned silent and the need to flee turned into the desire to follow him inside that office. 

You turned to look at the receptionist, who in return offered you an encouraging nod and smile.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, I had some files that needed attention”

The man, who you could assume was Jeonghan, pulled a chair for you to sit on. He only let go of the chair once you were seated.

“It's okay”

His office was very similar in style to the waiting room, except for the leather chair and the industrial-looking desk. There was no computer, no bookshelf, no degree attached to the wall, just some creepy paintings that looked maybe a little too dark and tenebrous to an office. His desk was also empty of any files, phones, and pens. It was hard to believe that he was going over some files when there was nothing to look at.

“How can I help you today?”

For a second his eyes turned dark, entirely black, before going back to the dark brown color. Eyes of a snake, the words flashed in front of you. Your hold on the straps of your purse tightened until your knuckles turned to white.

It was a mistake going there.

It took an enormous amount of strength to push your body into a standing position.

“I'm sorry, I can't stay” you managed to force the words out, doing your best to smile and sound apologetic “Something came up”

Jeonghan leaned forward, his chin resting on his hand.

“Now, we know that's a lie” there was humor in his voice “You came here for a baby, so do us both a favor and sit down”

It was like your will to leave the room was suppressed by a hand pushing you down back on the chair. That same hand seemed to be holding you in place.

“See? That wasn't so hard”

The back of your neck started to grow cold, your hands sweaty. Your heartbeat with the force of a horse. His eyes turned into snake eyes once again. You felt your entire body grow cold. This time he flashed his eyes for a little more than a second.

“If you promise to be good, I'll stop holding you down” he raised his eyebrows at you, his tone almost bored now “Okay?”

It was a strange sight, a man who was around your age — or at least you thought so –, with soft features to have such eyes. Strange didn't even start to describe it, terrifying was a more precise word, and yet, you weren't scared. 

Perhaps you were at first, after all your initial reaction had been to escape, but while sitting there looking at him you were just curious.

“If you can stop with the eyes,” you used your index and middle finger to point at your own eyes “sure, we'll talk”

Jeonghan pouted but complied. In a millisecond the snake eyes were gone at the same time the pressure on your shoulders subsided. 

“You don't know how to have fun, do you?”

You didn’t bother to answer, you knew that no matter what you said those words wouldn’t make any difference to him and you were sure that your definition of fun was entirely different from his.

“So, a child. That's what you want, your deepest desire?” Jeonghan raised a hand to stop you from talking as if he changed his mind “Of course it is, you don’t have to say it”

It was the way he said it that made a shiver run through your spine. You shouldn’t have gone there. You should have asked someone else to go with you, though who could have been that person was unknown to you.

“Did you bait me into coming here?”

“Well, yeah” he laughed “I'm sure you saved that forum but if you go back there won't be much to see. Let's be realistic here and say that what you want, can be done”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. It wasn't a reaction to what he had said, it was to what you had believed. 

“You were so pathetically desperate that it was so easy getting to you” Jeonghan taunted you “Just one word, one post on a random website was enough to get you here and so fast too! Was it a couple of hours ago?”

Biting your bottom lip was the only possible way to keep your mouth shut, to keep the very much not polite fuck you in the silence of your mind. You tried to get up again, not really willing to sit there and be mocked, but as soon as you made the slightest movement you felt that hand again on your shoulder holding you down, this time much more forceful than the previous one.

“You said that we were going to talk, so, let’s talk”

“I want to go,” you said between your teeth “now”

Jeonghan tilted his head to the side, his snake eyes making an appearance again.

“Silly girl, you should have listed to your grandma when she warned you about what your wishes could bring” a sickening smile made its way to his face, paired with his eyes made your stomach drop all the way down to your toes “Now you can only leave when I saw so”

A sudden memory crossed your mind, one from your childhood. Of you sitting in your grandma’s lap when you couldn’t be older than seven. She said don’t wish for impossible things, you never know who or what could be listening. Your grandma was catholic, always with her rosary in her hand, or wrapper around her wrist or on her neck.

It became painfully obvious who Jeonghan was. From the snake eyes, the smile, how graceful he looked.

“Shit” the curse was almost silent.

He smiled once again, his eyes back to normal. It was all the confirmation you needed from him.

Nights had become a lonely part of the day, not that they were eventful before the divorce but at least you weren't always by yourself. 

Somehow you had allowed yourself to become one of those people who are only friends with their husband's friends so when the divorce happened it was obvious that most Of them — in this case, all of them — stayed with your ex-husband. You also hadn't really helped the situation when you closed yourself off. It had become too much, finding out that you were infertile, a possible affair from your husband, and the inevitable divorce. It was only natural for you to isolate yourself.

It seemed though that not many people seemed to understand it. Your so-called friends, who you cried with when the results came back, seemed to think that crying over was ridiculous, that one week was more than enough to move on from the entire thing, it's not like you don't have a life outside of this dream. 

And while all of that was true, it was much easier saying it than doing it. You felt as if you were spiraling down with nothing to hold onto, without anyone by your side. 

So, nights by yourself, with a bottle of wine and some takeout had become your new normal.

You were in the kitchen when you heard a faint knock on the door. Since visitors were few and you weren't expecting anyone, you assumed that it was on your neighbor. Someone probably knocking with a little more strength than necessary. It wasn't unusual. Your neighbor had loud and often drunk friends you had gotten used to their shenanigans during the three years you lived there.

All you did was keep doing the dishes, swaying your body from side to side with the music you had been playing in the background as you tried your best to forget that entire week and how you had willingly walked into a pile of shit but had no idea of how to get out of it.

The sound of the door opening made you close the faucet. A look at the clock above the door told you that there was no way for your neighbors to be back yet, not when you had heard them leave less than an hour before. You didn’t know why you thought that it could have been them. There was no doubt that the opened door was in your apartment.

You took a knife from the holder, wrapping your hand tightly around the handle. Your hand was still wet from doing the dishes so you held onto the knife as strongly as you could, until your knuckles turned white.

The one good thing about old apartments is that there were certain places that cracked and you knew exactly where those were, so you also knew how to avoid them. Whoever was in your apartment didn’t.

A small part of your brain hoped that it was your ex-husband. If it was, the worst thing that would happen was for you to look like an idiot in front of him, for the millionth time since you met him. Looking stupid was much much better than having to deal with an intruder or a murderer.

You took one last breath before pushing your bedroom door fully open.

“Don’t you dare throw that knife at me”

A man in a purple suit stood in the center of your room. His hair was bright red, pushed back. He looked like he had come out of one of those comic books your brother read as a child. He had your wedding album in his hand. He went through the pages, a pout in his lips and he scanned all the pictures, assessing what he was seeing.

“It’s not polite to hold a knife at your guest,” he said matter of factly.

“Who the fuck are you?” your grip on the handle tightened as if such a thing was even possible to begin with.

He turned the photo album to you, showing you a picture of yourself alone, smiling after throwing the bouquet at your wedding. It was a spontaneous picture, a true smile. That woman in the picture was an entirely different person. Looking at her it was hard to believe that you had been her at some point in time.

“You looked happier here” he pointed out, turning the album back to himself, still pouting “I don’t think she’d hold a knife at a guest”

“Who are you?” you demanded again, your voice louder, desperate.

The man rolled his eyes at you, finally closing the book and throwing it on your bed.

“Think about it, we both know you’re smart” he lightly raised his eyebrows at you “A little over a week ago you had a weird… dream? That’s what you made yourself think, wasn’t it?”

For a moment it was hard to pull air inside your lungs.

You thought that you had gone crazy. You clearly remembered getting out of the apartment, of going downtown in an Uber, of the waiting room, of talking to Jeonghan. But you didn’t remember walking out of the building or how you got home. You just… somehow found yourself back in your bed, in your pajamas in the middle of the night. The clock marked 3:33 AM.

“That was Jeonghan’s fault so I won’t hold it over your head too much. He likes to play tricks like that”

He sat on your bed, arms stretched back, thighs parted. A cocky smile on his lips and you could swear that your legs melted a little when you noticed that he had nothing under the suit jacket.

“Who are you?” you asked again, this time your voice wasn’t as loud or as demanding.

The man raised his eyebrows again and you could swear that it did something to you, tickling a place you didn’t know it needed to be tickled. He moved his chin lightly as if pointing to the knife. You sighed and put the knife down, holding it closer to your body. But that wasn't enough for the man, he pointed at the dresser. You rolled your eyes but did as asked. You didn't dare to get closer to him though. You simply crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against it. 

"I'm Seungcheol," the man said, only when he was sure that there was no chance of you stabbing him "Choi Seungcheol"

"I didn't know demons had last names"

His pout was still in place, as he seemed to be thinking of what to say next.

"We're civil enough, though me coming in without your permission might not be the best proof of character" he was quick to add when you opened your mouth to object. 

It didn't matter how much you tried, nothing came to mind when you thought about your conversation with Jeonghan. All of it was a big blank. You remembered getting there, him scaring you, the realization of who he was but nothing after that.

“The word you’re looking for is demon king,” he said. 

His eyes seemed to assess you, each and every movement you made. Seungcheol’s eyes never left you, not even for a second. When you moved to the chair on the opposite side of the room he followed you, adjusting his own body he would be seated directly in front of you. 

If your memory served you right, which at that point you had no idea, Jeonghan seemed to know what you were thinking. You were inclined to think that he couldn’t actually read your thoughts because according to Seungcheol, again if you could take his words for anything, demons too were civil and would just be way too invasive, but he was awfully good at knowing exactly what you were thinking. But then again, Jeonghan seemed to know way too much in the first meeting. Were the files he was looking at something like your life’s history? Where you were born, about your parents, your first boyfriend, your college crush, your husband, and everything that happened after?

You did your best not to focus too much on the demon king thing. If you did, your mind would take you somewhere else entirely and you weren’t sure if you could go there at that moment. Actually, you were sure you shouldn’t, especially because if you did the man in front of you, or a demon, would probably laugh. And being laughed at wasn’t something you were ready for at the moment.

“Okay,” you said slowly, exhaling all the air in your lungs all at once “Jeonghan is the demon king”

Seungcheol nodded, a small smile on his lips as he was proud of a child who had just given a correct answer. 

“That makes you…?”

“An incubus”

You closed your eyes for a second, folding your legs in front of you. Incubus… the demon who would sleep with women in their sleep and get them pregnant, and these women birthed demon-like children. 

Fantastic.

“So, magic dick,” you said, half not believing what you were saying, on how easily it seemed for you to understand it all “Great” 

That seemed to pull out an honest laugh out of Seungcheol, to the point a dimple made its way into his cheek. You couldn't help but smile along with him. 

“Something along those lines, yes”

He stood up, his eyes no longer filled with laughter and amusement. They had turned darker, hungry even. At that very second you felt like a prey under his eyes. You bit your bottom lip and he got closer to you, his eyes focused on your lips as he moved deliberately slowly to get to you. It seemed that your room was much, much, bigger than it actually was, almost like there was an entire runaway between him and you. 

You stood up as well, though that was probably a bad idea, considering how wobbly your legs felt. 

Seungcheol smiled, not in the cute and almost condescending way of before, but in a way that was much darker and held so many promises at the same time. He took your hand, pulled you towards the center of the room, walking backward.

“So, this is it? No flirting, no nice words, no dinner. Just straight-up sex” 

You hoped that your tone was light, teasing. Though there was nothing light about the way you were feeling. The few inches of your skin that were under his touch felt like were on fire. 

It had been a long time since you were with anyone, your husband was the last one a year and a half before. That wasn't to say that you hadn't found any sort of pleasure, but it had always been by yourself.

You couldn't help but wonder if part of the heat on your skin came from the lack of contact or if it was because of him. Something told you that it was a mix of both. 

“Well, you had dinner before I even got here and I thought you holding a knife was flirting”

Seungcheol circled you. The hand that held Yours suddenly pressed on your stomach, holding you against his firm chest. He pressed his nose to the crook of your neck. Giving him more access to your skin felt almost natural.

You felt his lips on the back of your neck. It started as a chaste kiss, followed by the burn of his teeth sinking into your skin and then soothed by his tongue flat over the space he had just bitten. 

“Are you a vampire?” you hoped your voice sounded steady but even to your ears it was breathy, close to a moan. The thing… the man… had barely touched you and you were ready to just melt under him. 

Seungcheol’s chest vibrated against your back and he leaned into your neck once again, now biting the other side. 

“Never met one of those, but if you want, I can become one for the night”

It suddenly crossed your mind “would he do anything I ask?” but you didn’t have it in you to ask. More than that, you didn’t know what to ask. You wanted too much but at the same time, you weren't sure where to begin. 

Slowly, Seungcheol ran his hand down your body. You felt your core tighten at the proximity, wetness slowly damping your panties. You were in a haze, one you didn’t want to come out of. 

“Tell me what you want. Whatever you want, however, you want it. It’s all yours”

It was like he had somehow heard your thoughts. Was that also part of his abilities? Magic dick and mind reading? Seemed like good powers to have. 

He nuzzled your neck again, this time placing kisses all over your skin as he slid down the strap of your shirt and continued his discovery of your skin. But your shoulder was not the place you wanted to feel him the most, it was not the spot that was craving for attention. 

Seungcheol ran his nose over your shoulder, the curve of your neck, up to your ear. 

“Ah, not so sweet and innocent after all” the hot breath over your skin made your entire body flame up. 

Finally, he lowered his hand, going under the elastic band of your shorts. He roughly rubbed his palm over your covered clit as his other hand went up to your breast, tugging at the hard nipple.

“You’re this wet and we barely even started?” he nibbled on your ear “You were all brave with that knife but all you can think about now is my magic dick filling you over and over and over again. Right, sweetheart?”

He pushed your panties to the side, his finger finally rubbing over your sensitive clit. A whimper left your lips as he was exactly where you needed, but it was far from enough. 

“Oh, I’m going to have so much fun with you”

He circulated your slit with two fingers. Once, twice, three times. 

“Please” you whispered. 

You felt his smile at the same time he pushed his fingers into you, your arousal more than enough to suck him in. You sucked in a moan as he picked up speed with his fingers, then another when his palm pressed over your clit adding another layer of pleasure. 

“Make that pretty noise for me again, sweetheart,” he asked, his voice low, though commanding “Let me hear you”

You tried your best to stay quiet, to not make any sound, and let the only sound in the room be the almost obnoxious noise of his fingers slipping in and out of you. But when Seungcheol found that one spot, that tiny piece of skin that made your mind almost go blank it was impossible to be silent. 

The sound coming out of you was pathetic, each new moan getting louder as you felt your abdomen cramp. The louder you got, the faster he moved his fingers. He didn’t stop pumping his fingers, didn’t stop pressing his palm on your clit, until the tide finally broke loose. 

You tried to shut your legs, suddenly the stimulation was too much at once, but Seungcheol was willing to let that happen. He kicked your feet apart, using his own knees to keep yours proudly open. 

Your orgasm hit you harder than ever before, your body convulsing in his grip, shaking as each new wave of pleasure hit you, somehow stronger than before. Seungcheol held you together until your body calmed down. A moan that could have been easily mistaken for a sob, came out of your lips, a light tremor in your legs, though you were certain that it was no longer visible. 

Seungcheol slowly guided your body towards the bed, both of his hands on your hips, steadying you. He sat you down on the bed and took a couple of steps back. He didn’t say anything as he opened the button on his suit and pulled it off his shoulder, tossing it aside on the chair to his left. 

He was teasing you, that much was obvious. Under normal circumstances you’d have looked away but as he unbuttoned his pants you couldn’t force yourself to look away. Your mind was in a trance by him, he had your undivided attention and he loved it. 

His movements were deliberately slow, a cocky grin making its way to his face as he noticed your eyes following the movements of his hands. 

The only piece of clothing covering Seungcheol was his underwear, though it did very little to disguise his erection. Your mouth watered at the sight, a nagging feeling on the back of your mind telling you to get down on your knees in front of him and take all of him into your mouth - or at least as much as it could fit anyway. 

Seungcheol laughed as he finally pushed the last piece of cotton off. You bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning at the sight of him on full display. Every inch of his devilish body, in full glory, was mesmerizing. You felt you pussy clench around nothing as Seungcheol started to pump his dick. 

“We’ll have enough time to play later tonight,” he moved closer to you, standing in between your legs, his cock was close to you face that you simply inch forward and have him like you wanted, he had different ideas though “but right now I want to know what it feels like to be buried deep inside that sweet, sweet, pussy”

You reached down to the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. It was only when you reached for the elastic band of your shorts that you felt the embarrassment creeping up every inch of your body. 

“Come on, sweetheart, don’t hide yourself from me”

He lightly pushed you onto the bed, his knee pressing against your center and he scooped you up on the bed. He grabbed you by the hips and flipped you so that your face was pressed into the mattress. 

He pushed your shorts down, though not boring to take them off all the way down. Seungcheol straddled your legs and he teased your pussy with the tip of his cock. Running it over the slick entrance but never fully pushing it inside. 

You tried to change the position in a way to force him to just sink in but he was having none of that. He gripped your head by your hair, pulling it back until your ass up in the air, your back arched in a way that should be painful but somehow all it did was heighten your pleasure. 

“Beg” he whispered against your ear, his voice deliciously low.

“What?” you breathed out as he continued to tease you, your body moving along with his, a new whimper escaping every time he almost pushed inside. 

“I’m not going to make it that easy for you” he laughed “You wanna be fucked? I’ll fuck in ways you can’t even imagine. But you’re going to have to beg”

In any other situation, in any other moment of your life, you’d have felt embarrassed by his demand, to some extent would even have felt angry towards it. But right in that second, with the promise of what was to come, saying a few words sounded like a fair price to pray. 

“Please, please, Seungcheol” you begged, voice dripping with need and honey as you moved your hips wanting nothing more than to just be filled “just fuck me, fill me up. All of me is yours…” for the night.

He didn’t let you finish, pushing his cock into your throbbing pussy. There was no time to adjust. Seungcheol drove his dick into you again and again, each thrust harder than the previous one. He pulled your arms back, holding them against his chest with his own. 

Each sound that left your mouth was increasingly louder but you didn’t care in the slightest. Seungcheol’s grunts behind you, the slapping of his skin against yours every time he drove into you was intoxicating.

“Oh my god” you chanted over and over again

“No, no, not god” he laughed, biting the soft skin of your shoulder “He can't help you now”

He snaked a hand around your waist directly to your clit, massaging it in slow circles, in high contrast to his dick. The pressure was just perfect, his pace never faulting. 

An orgasm hit you yet again, without notice, this time not as hard as the first one, but still enough to have you shaking to the core. Seungcheol held you even tighter, his pace relentless as he searched for his own high. 

You felt his warm cum splurged into you, too much of it. 

Your body felt limp on the bed, all energy drained out of you, not a single drop left. You turned, looking at the ceiling, trying to steady your breathing, waiting for the tremors to pass when you felt Seungcheol his hand over your thigh. 

He pushed your shorts and panties all the way down, tossing them on the floor with a mute sound. He spread your legs and smiled proudly, seemingly happy with his work. It only lasted a second though, as a frown took over his features. 

“You’re wasting it, sweetheart” he tsked “We can’t have that, now can we?”

You felt his hand on your sensitive cunt and tried to flinch away but he didn't bulge. His finger grazed over your clit before he pushed them into you. You held his wrist, trying to push his hand away. 

“No, it’s too much” you shook your head, pleading “Please, I can’t, please”

He laughed at your words, pinning the hand that held his wrist over your head. Seungcheol kissed your breast, taking the nipple into his mouth, sucking hard, and blowing on it a second later, all while he pumped his fingers in your pussy, pushing back inside all the cum that had dripped out. 

“You can” you bit your lower lip and tugged at it “and, most importantly, we both know you want it”

You could only shake your head as the pleasure became too much, almost unbearable. Almost. You felt yet another orgasm build up again, like your entire body was throbbing, closing itself tightly before it finally broke free.

Seungcheol swallowed your scream, kissing your lips, neck, and shoulders as your body spasmed. Your quiet whimpers were the only sound in the room. He only pulled his fingers out of you when you calmed down completely.

“That’s it” he kissed your cheek, letting go of your hands and using them to hold his head so he could look down at you “See, I told you you could it”

Out of the possible outcomes of the previous night waking up to a mop of red hair on the other side of the bed wasn’t one of them. You were certain that when you woke up you’d realize that the night had been a dream — the most real one you had ever had in your life but that was beside the point. 

Just for good measure, you pressed your index finger to the shoulder of the man. Warm and soft skin was under your finger.

Okay, not a dream then.

You turned on your back, facing the ceiling of your bedroom. The night played vividly in your mind. The way Seungcheol pressed the first kiss to the back of your neck and how that alone was enough to make you go crazy under his touch. Not only that, how you were so willing to completely let yourself go to him, how every time he whispered in your ear, chills ran down your entire body and you could feel him everywhere.

You couldn’t help but wonder if all of your emotions had been heightened because he was…. him. A demon. Or if you were just so touch-starved that the smallest caress was enough to drive you over the edge.

Most of all, you couldn’t look past all how you had been so incredibly reckless. A random man who looked like he had gotten out of some comic book suddenly showed up in your room — mind you without using the door — and you somehow, for whatever reason, thought that it was a good idea to have sex with him. And then, as if all of that wasn’t enough, you still fell asleep by his side like it was the most normal thing in the world like he was someone you could trust entirely.

You covered your eyes with your arm, a groan leaving your lips.

There was still the whole “deal with the demon king” part that you were yet to think about.

It seemed unfair that you couldn’t remember what you agreed on. You should have the chance to prepare for whatever was to come, didn’t you? The demon king, or Jeonghan, you weren’t sure how you should address him, was well… unfair.

“Are you usually this loud so early in the morning?”

Your entire body jumped on the bed and a scream died in your throat. For a couple of minutes, you had been so lost in your mind that you forgot that Seungcheol was by your side at all.

His voice in the early morning, just after waking up, was almost made out of honey, velvety, tingling in your ears. By your side, Seungcheol had turned to you, his eyes barely open, his full lips pulled almost in a pout, a few strands of hair covering his face. You had to grip the sheets closer to your body just so you could suppress the desire to move them aside.

Your eyes moved slightly down, to his half-exposed chest. Another flash of the night before crossed your mind, of him over you, the way the chain around his neck hung just over your nose, how you used it to pull him to you again.

“You look cute when you blush,” he said with a lazy smile on his lips. You felt your cheeks warm but didn’t think it was enough to cause any visible change. 

Seungcheol folded his arm, holding his head up. The sleepy smile he gave you was the most delicious thing you had ever seen, it was enough to take your breath away all over again. You were happy that you were still in bed, otherwise there was a chance that your legs might have given in under you.

“I didn’t think you’d stay” was all you said as you swung your feet out of the bed, looking for the pajamas that were lost somewhere on the floor.

It was on the other side of the room, how it had ended up there was beyond you. You gripped the sheet closer around your body but you were only able to move one step away from the bed before you felt it being pulled back.

“You know, I already saw everything there’s under those sheets” you didn’t turn to him but you could hear the smile in his voice “In fact, I did a lot more than just look at it”

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You were certain that if you forced the sheets out of his grip, Seungcheol would have let go of it but if he did such a thing then he would be the one exposed, and while you were sure that he had no problem with the idea, everything you screamed that if you saw him naked again there was no way that you would just have a redo of the night before.

Letting go of the sheets, you walked to the other side of the room, opening the dresser drawer and pulling out a clean pair of panties and bra.

“I’m going to shower and by the time I finish it I want you gone”

Seungcheol’s laughter still echoed through the apartment when you closed the bathroom door.

You had managed to keep yourself busy enough during the weekend that you had almost forgotten about Friday night. The keyword being almost. Usually, you would have come up with an excuse to not help your sister during the weekend. She was a wedding planner, a very good one at that — she had been the one to plan your wedding — and highly sought out so it was easier to find her working than being at home.

The reason why you always declined was that weddings, while they could be wildly different from one another, there were things that were the same, didn’t who was at the isle. Two people were promising each other eternal love.

When you saw those people, standing in front of each other, eyes filled with love and hope, you couldn’t help but think about Joshua. How you had once been in that exact spot, saying similar words, how you had been happy with him for so many years until all of it came crashing down on you. The only thing that love left behind were scars that were still all too fresh but hidden enough that no one would ever see them.

Still, working during the weekend with your sister was better than staying at home and thinking about all the stupid decisions you made and how much you’d love to make at least one of them once again. She was also kind enough to let you work on the setup and then later back in the kitchen. Maybe she had some sort of sixth sense that said that you need to get out of your mind. Her call was at the right moment.

Even so, there were moments when you were on your own, in the darkness of your bedroom, when Seungcheol’s perfume somehow still lingered in the air. There was no escape then. It was like a replay of that night played in your head again and again, and everytime it it did there was a new detail that you had somehow forgotten.

It was both a blessing and a curse.

You ran your hand over your face and hair, urging your mind to just stop and let yourself fall asleep. You had a meeting early in the morning and you needed your sleep, just so you could function like a semi-normal human being.

You were in the kitchen when you heard a sound in your bedroom. Your heart skipped a beat, hoping that maybe… just maybe… You shook your head in an attempt to come back to reality. The chance of seeing Seungcheol once again was below zero. You heard the sound again and this time your heart wasn’t the only thing doing a weird flip inside your chest, you also felt chills run down your skin.

The third time the sound came you felt as if you were under a cold shower when it was followed by the sound of laughter in the hallway that belonged to your neighbor. 

It was hard swallowing the expectation that had somehow found its way into you. You weren’t even sure why you were expecting something in the first place. After that night it was clear that there wasn’t going to be a second one. Not that there was any conversation on the matter, it just seemed like the most natural option. 

If things had gone according to plan, and if your mind was worthy of any trust, apparently it did, there was no real reason why you should ever see Seungcheol again. And yet, there you were wishing that he’d just show up again, and for what? 

You set the glass of water down, wishing you could have something strong – God knew that if you wanted to sleep you’d need some help – but not wanting to risk anything. Shutting down the lights in the kitchen and living room.

Before you even opened the door to your room you felt this shift in the air. You pushed it open, hard enough that it smashed against the wall. 

“You must really love your kitchen, the second time I show up here and the second time you're in the kitchen”

You closed your eyes for a second, basking in the sound of his voice, how it made chills erupt in your skin. 

“Second time you don’t use the door”

“I’ll be sure to remember that”

Seungcheol smiled, hands in his pocket. 

“You better”

Before you gave yourself a chance to think about it, you crossed the room in two strides and pulled him to you. Seungcheol smiled against your lips before he finally kissed you. 

if you enjoyed reading, please reblog and leave a comment, it really does mean the world to me and i would love to know your thoughts. thank you! 💕

you can read my other fics here ➝ masterlist

[kxtsukixoxo]

happy valentine’s day kri 🩷 pls take a rest from the angst tdy !! id like to request “quiet, they’ll hear us..” with my one and only hanta sero, thank u in advance 🙏

authors note - happy late valentine’s day bloom!! <3 we’re taking a long deserved break from the angst!! i’m sorry this took so long, i hope you enjoy it :3

here’s the valentine’s day event, there’s still prompts available!! ⊹. warnings - nsfw content

sero hanta, the guy who sat next to you in your business class. 

that’s all you knew about him, but he knew everything about you. infact, he was obsessed with you. he knew all your classes, he knew your route to your dorm, he knew what drink you’d order at the café down the road whenever you hung out with izuku, and that ticked him off. you had no classes with izuku, and sero knew nothing about izuku, so why were you hanging out with him? 

sero was the biggest perv when it came to you, just you. nobody else had this affect on him, and it drove him crazy. his need to feel you grew stronger everyday, and especially on the days you’d come to class wearing outfits that revealed a little more skin than you’d usually show.

it drove him crazy that you were right next to him and he couldn’t do anything about it. you’d give him the gummiest smile, as he felt his blood flow abandon every single part of his body and shoot down to his cock, he’d manage to give you a small wave, as he tried to pay attention to whatever your lecturer was saying, but all he could think about was his hands snuck down your skirt, your spit pooling out of your mouth as you mewled on his shirt, while he finger-fucked you. 

right after your lecture ended, sero grabbed your hand pulling you towards the janitors closet, no reason given. sure he wouldn’t do anything right, he looked like a respectful young guy, always waving at you, smiling at you in the hallways, offering to carry your grocery bags into your dorm.

somehow. 

always. 

everywhere you were. 

so when you finally reached the janitors closet, and sero placed his lips against yours, why didn’t you push him away? why did you enjoy it? 

you barely knew him, he barely knew you, atleast you thought so. 

“i can’t do this anymore, i need to feel you-“ he panted heavily, his chest heaving as he let out shaky breaths. “sero-what-“

“call me hanta please.” he started “tell me you want this, please tell me you do, if you don’t, it’s fine, we can just pretend this never happened, i’ll change my seat and we can carry-“ you cut him off as you sloppily captured his lips into a kiss, your legs wrapped around his waist as his hand gripped onto your ass while the other pulled his pants down.  

sero finally pulled away, with a pop. he unbuttoned your jeans, letting them drop to your ankles, as he pulled your shirt up just enough to reveal your perked up tits, the ones he dreamed about almost every night since you sat next to him.

thank god for baby tees, he was not about to let a bra get in his way. sero pulled his boxers down, his cock bounced up touching his belly button, you watched pre-cum leak out of the slit, “all yours baby” he murmured as he slid a hand through his messy mullet, you were hungry for it. 

“give me the go-head and i’ll stuff you so good hm?” he caressed your cheek as he lined his cock with your entrance “just be quiet for me baby, can’t let anybody hear those pretty noises you make, they’re just for me” he muttered as he placed a soft kiss to your lips. 

“fuck me hanta-please-“ 

that was all he needed. sero slammed into you, pressing you up against the wall, as your head fell back, your mouth fell open, as he slid in and out of you, pounding you against the wall, right next to your business class. if anybody were close enough you were sure they could hear your muffled moans as sero stuffed himself inside you “been dreaming about this day since you sat next to me in that pretty pink skirt” you brokenly gasped as your eyes rolled back. sero grunted as he grabbed your hand, placing it ontop of your stomach, feeling the bump. “see that? feel how deep i’m in you baby” he let out a groan, as he watched you whimper, “m’ gonna cum!” 

“shhh baby, you don’t wanna let everybody know i’m fucking you that good do you?” 

“hanta!-“

“i got you baby,” your legs tightened around his waist as he held you close, his breath fanning against your neck “cum for me”

and you did, collapsing towards him, as both of you came down from the lasting high. 

he scribbled his number onto your arm after wiping you down and getting you into your clothes, tapping your cheek with two fingers, 

“let me fuck you properly later hm?” 

[burreauxsss]

its over, im sorry

background: y/n a wag for the chiefs who is dating travis kelce of 3 years finds out he cheated on her. she assures herself that she'd never watch the nfl nor date another nfl player, until a convincing quarterback hits her dms.

(all pics from pinterest/ all tweets are fake this is a 2 part series fyi)

notes: posting twice in a day because my x account gets unsuspended tomorrow won't he do it!!! anyways warnings: none??

joe burrow x reader x ex!kelce smau

duexmoi

❤️ 420,494 💬 33,000

Liked by: tmz

duexmoi: ladies!! what do we think?

username_1: bro she deserves so much better.

username_2: i hope she upgrades

username_3: about time.

username_4: i need to hear about her experience with him fr.

username_5: my favorite wag????? seriously!!

*load more comments*

y/n_handle

❤️ 84,100 💬 5,000

Liked by: yourbsf and others

y/n_handle: the world is finally healing.

username_6: wym by that..

username_7: so its healing because of you leaving that man.. oh!

username_8: rule 1, dont date a athlete, got it.

username_9: you deserve better.

*load more comments*

joeyb_9

❤️ 755,111 💬 87,915

Liked by: lahjay10 bengals and others

joeyb_9: keep fighting.

lahjay_10: joey b is back.

bengals: we missed 9.

username_10: yall sucked this week, pull it together against kansas city.

username_11: that man was scared and we all know it.

username_12: who dey as always!

*load more comments*

y/n_handle 📍kansas city, mo

❤️ 82,100 💬 6,987

Liked by: yourbsf

y/n_handle: with yourbsf

username_13: my algorithm is messy since that tweet.

username_14: i wish he wouldve just broke off the engagement and been done with it.

username_15: shes so pretty, he fumbled.

username_16: her friend is a bengals fan, is she going with her to the game this sunday?

username_17: i fear travis is beating himself up about this rn.

username_18: who did he even cheat on her with, thats the million dollar question.

*load more comments*

bengals 📍kansas city, mo

❤️ 900,777 💬 120,337

Liked by: lahjay_10 joeyb_9 and others

bengals: business trip.

username_19: if this business trip doesnt involve a dub then i dont know what.

username_20: joe actually looks nice today.

username_21: hes so fine its unreal.

username_22: chiefs been deadass silent on insta since last week..

username_23: travis talking 💩 on his podcast as usual.

username_24: yk what would be crazy... travis's ex showing up to see travis lose.

*load more comments*

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

conversation between joe and y/n on instagram dms

joeyb_9: saw one of your pics, you're very beautiful.

y/n_handle: thank you. 🤍

joeyb_9: i also see you're travis's ex.

y/n_handle: yeah, crazy story. i know you hate kansas city but

joeyb_9: i heard what happened, therefore ive always seen you on tv and loved how well you carry yourself.

y/n_handle: if this is you asking me out, i promised myself i wouldnt date another athlete.

joeyb_9: maybe it is, but i promise you if this "stage" doesnt work you can block me and we'll forget about eachother. deal?

y/n_handle: so basically this is a talking stage.

joeyb_9: i mean we've dmd eachother every once in awhile to congratulate eachother so... we know about eachother.

y/n_handle: deal.

y/n_handle: i need to admit this also, you're very handsome.

joeyb_9: i appreciate it.

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

y/n_handle posted a story

caption: im here for the orange team. w/ yourbsf

duexmoi

❤️ 350,823 💬 12,920

Liked by: tmz and others

duexmoi: blind alert!! according to a spectator fan at the bengals vs chiefs game cincinnati bengals quarterback joe burrow ended up flirting with travis kelces ex?!?!?!?

now this is awkward after y/n just confirmed the cheating rumors with the engagement speculations.

username_25: this has to be crazy

username_26: she deserves all the love she can get.

username_27: and the bengals won?? oh honey i wouldve hard launched right then and there.

username_28: her bsf is a bengals wag so that might be a connection.

username_29: you could tell travis was pissed as hell that his ex girl showed up lmaoo.

username_30: long distance might be even worse for her..

*load more comments*

y/n_handle posted a story

caption: flirting with the don julio

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

conversation between joe and y/n

joeyb_9

❤️ 667,009 💬 78,403

Liked by: bengals lahjay10 y/n_handle and others

joeyb_9: another week, another dub

bengals: hes him!

lahjay_10: f the chiefs.

username_31: y/n liking this post might be insane knowing whats going on..

username_32: i love jamarr's comment so much lmaoo

username_33: travis kelce crying in a corner rn??

username_34: joe has to have the most insane villain arc ever to be hitting travis kelces ex fiance

username_35: kermit 🤮 who dey!

*load more comments*

note: crazy ending, possible friend zone, possible rejection idek... sike yall know damn well

[weird-is-life]

First date charm

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x singlemom!reader

Summary: You think that Bucky is too good for you

Warnings: fluff, mentions of food, like one swear word

Words: 1.1k

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

I'm so sorry, James... but I don't think I'll be able to make it to the restaurant today. Again, I'm really sorry, I don't think i'll be able to see you anymore. You send a text to James Barnes.

The babysitter cancelled on you last minute, and with nobody else to watch your son you had to cancel the date.

Yes, you were definitely bummed about it because the first day with him was pretty much perfect. He was such a gentleman, and it felt like you could talk to him about anything. And it was like you could see him in your future immediately.

But you can't escape the nagging feeling that Bucky deserves better than you, than a single mom with a kid. Even though it hurts you more than you can admit.

Bucky feels devastated when he reads your text. He doesn't know what he did wrong. He thought the things were going great?

It was Sam that put you two together, and at first Bucky wanted to throttle him for setting up the date without asking Bucky first.

But after the first date Bucky was more than thankful. You were so kind and lovely and beautiful, and on Bucky's mind all the time since the date.

So he doesn't know what's happened. He tries to call you like 3 times, hoping for more of an explanation than only that text. He even texts you a few more times.

He starts to get worried when you don't respond. He would be thankful even if you just picked up the phone to tell him to fuck off, but you don't, and it drives him crazy.

He waits for your response for 2 hours, debating on just going up to your apartment to see if you are okay.

But after the 2 hours it gets too much for him. His mind going to the worst possible scenarios. He can't help it. The years of trauma don't make it easy for him to live, and not worry.

He gets to your apartment pretty quickly, his motorcycle makes it easy to speed through traffic. He paces nervously in front of the building, maybe he shouldn't have come here.

He contemplates for a few more minutes, and then rings the bell. Maybe you will think that he's crazy psychopath for showing up at your doorsteps, but he has to make sure you're okay.

You don't expect anybody to ring the bell to your apartment as soon as you put your son to sleep. You definitely don't expect to hear Bucky's voice from the intercom.

His soft 'can I come up?' makes your heart flatter, and you buzz him in. He's up the stairs on your floor quickly. And of course, he has a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"James, what are you doing here?" you ask quietly. He looks so handsome for the cancelled date, and it makes you feel even worse.

"I'm sorry for showing up...You weren't answering your phone, and-and I was worried." He looks apologetically at you.

"My phone....oh-" you quickly dissappear into your apartment, searching for your phone.

Bucky doesn't mean to snoop, but with the door wide open he notices all of the toys and kids stuff. His mouth goes dry a bit.

"I'm sorry, James, I had my phone on quiet.....," you stop talking when you follow Bucky's gaze. His eyes roaming all over the things.

"What's all this? You have a kid?"  Bucky looks baffled, like he just saw a ghost in front of him.

"Yes." You admit, guilt for not telling him all over your face. You thought that Sam had told Bucky about Teo, but you realised on the date that he hadn't.

You wanted to tell him, you really did. But you just wanted to see how the first date goes first. And in between the first and the second date the thoughts of Bucky being too good for you settled in your mind.

I mean, he's so charming, and probably the nicest man you have ever met. He's also so so respectful. And god, he's so handsome as well, those piercing blue eyes? To die for...

"I wanted to tell you, Bucky. I just....you deserve someone else. Not me with a kid. I-I loved our date, but I know what guys think about women with kids. It's not very attractive...," you sigh. You have experienced rejections from guys because of Teo before.

"Wait, wait, wait, doll. Did I give you the impression that I'd care about such things?" Bucky almost immediately asks. "I don't care that you have a kid, I like you, and I loved the date with or without knowing that you have a kid."

"You say that now, but what about when-" he interrupts you before you can finish.

"Doll, I like you! How about we just take it one date at a time, yeah? Let's see where this goes?" Bucky tries to reason with you. He doesn't want to let you go without even getting to know you properly. Like fuck, he hasn't felt this kind of connection in a long, long time.

"Are you sure? 'Cause I'd understand if not, I really would," you try to give him a smile to convince him (and yourself) which doesn't really work.

Bucky slowly takes your hand into his, and squeezes your hand in reassurance, "I'm very sure. I like you, and I don't know If I should be a little offended that you thought I'd mind that you are a mom.."

His attempt at lightening the mood is successful. You chuckle at his words, and he gives you a smile in return.

You eye the bouquet of the flowers in his other hand,"are those for me?"

"Who else?" Bucky murmurs teasingly as he hands you the beautiful flowers.

"Thank you, Bucky. They are beautiful," you say sheepishly, "but I still can't go on the date today. There's nobody who can watch Teo." You tell him a little disappointed.

"No, that's okay, doll. I just wanted to make sure that we were okay, but more importantly that you were okay. I should go tho," he says, and leans down bravely to kiss your cheek goodbye.

He can see your cheeks go rosy instantly. The blush making you even more pretty.

"W-wait, Bucky," you catch his hand before he can turn away, " you could stay, Teo is asleep....we could order pizza or-or whatever you like." You almost face slap yourself for acting like some unsure teenager in love. Stammering over your words.

Bucky thinks it over for a few seconds before he smiles at you," I'd love to, and pizza sounds fantastic."

"Great, c'mon." You happily pull him after you inside the apartment while apologising for all the mess. But Bucky couldn't care less about that, he's just more than happy he gets to spend time with you again.

[burningcheese-merchant]

"sorry but I love your writing so much OP" ARE YOU FOR REAL? I LOVE YOUR WRITING, DUDE!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ADDING YOUR IDEAS, THEY'RE FANTASTIC

Ugggghhhhhhhh the Ancients and Beasts being SO CLOSE to understanding each other, SO CLOSE to accepting the truth of their undeniable and unbreakable connection, but always letting their personal flaws big and small get in their way and drive a wedge between them!!!!!!! Fear of rejection, fear of further suffering and loss! All of the anger and grief and self-loathing! And amidst all of this, those two that dared to defy this order that no one meant to establish, but no one is able or willing to break, and stepping across that threshold to meet each other halfway, to become one as all five pairs were meant to, if only for a single, fleeting moment...

To the Ancients, they see a maverick. That one that, of their ragtag group of five, they had always known was the one most worthy of the title of "hero", more than any of them could ever hope or strive to be. A man who overcame his fear of the world and of himself, and who somehow always finds insurmountable strength in even the most fragile, fumbling weakness. He did what they so desperately wish to: he confessed. That cloying sentiment that tugged on the strings of their hearts like a delicate instrument; the fabled happy ending they'd see in their dreams, that made them smile and sigh softly in their sleep. He did it. Pure Vanilla did it. It ended badly - the way they all suspected, lamented that it would - but he did it, and that's what matters most at the moment. Do they congratulate him? Do they gather round and cage him in a warm embrace, mourning his cruel rejection alongside him? Bah... they'll do both. They'll do it all for their friend. And perhaps, in doing so, they can live through him, and share in this small, fleeting victory...

Shadow Milk knows better than to show his face to... are they even still his friends, in this day and age? Is that a term he could use, a relationship he could imply, without a savage bite or bark in dismissive response? Did their camaraderie mean anything anymore, after all they've said and done?

Hmph... It doesn't matter. None of it matters. Not them, not the Ancients, not that miserable, mewling, bleeding heart coward Pure Vanilla. Meant to be together? HA! "No one else but me can truly understand you"? Now THAT'S a good joke. So good, that he actually brought the house down! That saying is supposed to be just that, but Pure Vanilla actually gave it life and limb! He was the true jester all along, it would seem! And far be it from Shadow Milk to allow himself to be outdone by anyone, never mind... him. But oh well. That rosy-cheeked bastard's time will come.

Understanding... No one understands Shadow Milk. No one ever did, and no one ever shall. It is Shadow Milk who understands. He, the once great Fount of Knowledge. HE is the arbiter of truth and understanding, no one else. It is HE who understands.

And what does Shadow Milk understand?

He understands that that mask Mystic Flour wears from dusk to dawn and every minute in between will finally shatter, should he ever grace her with his presence again. The cocoon she wove ever-so-tightly around her heart will unravel once and for all - and from it will spring an unfettered, grief-stricken rage the likes of which none have ever seen. Those silk ribbons and spider webs will instead coil around his wrists, his ankles, his neck, and they will squeeze. She will gaze into the abyss of his soul as all of the air and excuses are slowly wrung from his aching lungs, without a sound herself; he won't deserve any answers from her, and they both know what they are, anyway. He had enlightenment in his grasp. The one she recoiled from and longed for so strongly. He threw it away. For it, he will suffer. He must.

He understands that there is no Hell torturous enough for Burning Spice to damn him to, no corner of the earth he can scuttle off and cower in, nothing he can say or do to quell his spitting fury. He will beat him, break him, put splinters beneath his fingernails, slather him in lamb's blood and throw him to the wolves, tear out his guts with his bare hands and use them to hang him from a bridge. And all the while, he will scream and shout every last ounce of his disappointment. His longing. His sorrow. All he wants anymore is Golden Cheese. He needs her. And he KNOWS Shadow Milk needs Pure Vanilla in the same way - and instead of accepting that precious gift, he chose to be boring and lie like he always does about EVERYTHING in his worthless life. If Shadow Milk has a joke, a poem, a scathing criticism, however he chooses to dress his EXCUSES- no, Burning Spice won't hear them. They will seep into the earth, never to be of use again, along with every last drop of his blood as Burning Spice split every last vein open with his axe

He understands that Eternal Sugar will be tempted to play a song for him. Let her fingers dance along the strings of her precious harp one more time, just for him, even though she lost her taste for music long ago. Soft, sickly sweet crooning about how much of a coward and a failure he is. A melody that graces his ears with the warmth and affection of a seditious courtesan dutifully handing her king his poisoned tea. And he would listen and scowl and say nothing in reply - he needed to dedicate his focus to staying awake, because the last thing he wanted was to fall asleep in Eternal Sugar's presence. It was what she hoped for; in his dreams, she could demonstrate her REAL frustration. So he'd deny her that chance for as long as he could, and let her trill that Hollyberry's disappearing act was more captivating than his would ever be

He understands that it never mattered that Silent Salt was born mute, for he was nevertheless a master of expression that rivaled even Shadow Milk himself. The tremor in his hand as he gripped his sword tighter. Tighter. Tighter. The loud, clanking stomp of his armored boots as he marched towards Shadow Milk, unyielding to any obstacle or distraction he tried to throw onto his path. That aura, more powerful than any of theirs had ever been, cold as steel and equally as heavy and suffocating, looming over Shadow Milk like a storm over the sea. The bleeding imprint of his gauntlet on Shadow Milk's cheek. The lilies - soft-hearted fool, he always has at least one on hand - he'd shove into Shadow Milk's mouth and down his throat until he choked and perished in his shaking grasp. The tears Shadow Milk could sense welling in those furious, bloodshot eyes hiding behind that helm. Perhaps it was for the best that Silent Salt was truly born silent; Shadow Milk shuddered to imagine what horrors would spill from his mouth and strike the whole world down otherwise.

He understands that Pure Vanilla's love is persistent and unconditional. There is nothing Shadow Milk can say or do to push him away, not really. He can reject him a thousand times and he will always return and try again. The man wrapped himself around Shadow Milk's finger willingly; he and his heart and soul were forever his to toy with as he pleased.

... He understands that somewhere, in his heart of hearts, he wanted to say yes. He wishes he did. No one will ever hate Shadow Milk more than Shadow Milk himself for choosing not to, no matter his reasoning. No matter the outcome.

He understands that he bears the exact same curse as his compatriots. He understands there is no cure, no solution, no salvation. Not that ones such as them deserve such a mercy, anyway.

... It doesn't matter. None of it matters. Fools, the lot of them. Every single one.

Somewhere in the hollow pit of his damned soul, Shadow Milk understands that he's the biggest fool of them all. Such is the burden of Knowledge...

"You and I... We are meant to be together." okay everyone pack it up. go home. it doesn't get worse than this. I fear all other ancient x beast is #cancelled forever because how the utter fuck do you compete with that. My god. Dark Cacao would die on the spot, his old fucking heart would give out processing a sentence that romantic. Golden Cheese would choke and die from the physical manifestation of her own pride and ego before she could ever utter a sentence that open and honest. Hollyberry is choosing to laugh it all off and pray she can drink away and not think about it. White Lily would fall into another witch pot of bubbling goo before confronting said feelings. Only Pure Motherfucking Vanilla is that clincally batshit and unburdened to spout his feelings 1000% unfiltered to a guy who just killed his friends and got his rocks off psychologically torturing him.

Mystic Flour being utterly repulsed by such naïve, meaningless sentimentality, still clinging to the remains of the apathy she so cherishes and champions even as it slips through her fingers like flour through a sieve; hating herself to her very core because somewhere within it, she KNOWS her heart beats and aches for that ridiculous man, but she would end her own suffering before she allowed the truth to poke its head out from the shadows of her subconscious for even a single second

Burning Spice knowing how he feels for Golden Cheese, reveling in it, LIVING for the way his heart thunders in his chest and his breath hitches at the mere thought of his little bird. Never being afraid to tell her so, to pour out the contents of his dark heart without any filter (and Witches know he needs one at times...), either through his mouth or through the blade of his axe. But... still knowing that it isn't quite enough. Not for her. Because there's still something missing from his confessions. That soft, sugary sweetness that took away enough of the edge to his overwhelming spice that even he himself noticed it. That raw honesty - a different kind than he's used to, not quite what he employs. The kind that well and truly leaves him vulnerable and open to judgment; things he hates himself for fearing, even if it's only in relation to her and no one else. The kind he simply cannot have, that he cannot carry out. He tells Golden Cheese how he feels for her the way he WANTS to, not the way he NEEDS to. For that, he must change. And damn it, he can't handle any more change. It'll kill him, and he doesn't want to die anymore. Not while she's there to make his life fun again

Eternal Sugar sighing, rolling her eyes before letting them flutter shut again, because she knows this song and dance. She once helped countless others perform it; such was her lot as Happiness. And she chooses to ignore it, tuck herself back into bed and retreat into the world of dreams once more. Letting laziness govern her actions, like always. Running away from everything again - including her feelings for Hollyberry, and the fears and doubts that shroud them. Choosing to do nothing with the fact that Hollyberry is a runner and a quitter just like her, instead of taking initiative with her life and emotions for the first time in ages and telling Hollyberry point-blank that they could run away from the world together if she truly wanted

Silent Salt secretly lamenting his condition more than ever before, for now more than ever can he truly say that it is a hindrance, a curse, a stain on the tapestry of his life. Because no matter how well he's trained himself to express his thoughts and feelings through his actions, he knows that there are times where words really DO speak louder - and he can't speak them at all. He can never look White Lily in the eye and open his mouth and allow his praise and adoration to leap freely from his tongue. She will never feel the warmth of his tone as his words embraced her. She will never shiver and swoon at the joy and passion that dripped from every single letter - and there would've been many, there would've been more than could ever have been recorded, for he would've sung his feelings from every rooftop on earth until his lungs gave out. But he can't. He never will. Does he try to pretend it's better this way? Does he try and fail to cope with his lovesickness like his comrades do with theirs? Or does he accept the bitter reality for what it is, no ifs, ands, or buts, only hiding the gloom and doom he knows is written all over his face behind his helm just so he doesn't have to see it for himself?

And, above all of these things, bundling up the other 4 Beasts' feelings and tucking them away... Above all else, they are angry. They are angry at Shadow Milk. Because he achieved what none of them could. He got everything he wanted. His Ancient admitted his love for him, with all of the raw sincerity one could possibly afford another. The other Beasts would do ANYTHING to hear their Ancients speak to them in such a way. To acknowledge and embrace their connection, to confess to loving and longing for them; for their countenance, for their voice, for their touch, for their very souls. Shadow Milk got to reunite with his other half - who chose him willingly, wholeheartedly.

And Shadow Milk chose to throw it all away in the end. Let it all go to waste.

If any of them ever see him again, they're going to let him know EXACTLY how they feel about it all. Maybe it can count as practice towards crafting a proper heartfelt confession.

[oceantornadoo]

ch13 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

tw: allusions to torture. reader has some ptsd. SMUT.

also i did not edit this srry

masterlist | next

“Again.”

Johnny sighs to his right, but Simon ignores it, too concerned with the man in the chair in front of him. “Say it again.” The man in the chair (Richard, 34, nephew of a Price uncle, twice-removed or some bullshit) spits out a glob of blood on the floor before clearing his throat. “The night the weapons were stolen I was at home with my wife. We watched a new episode of one of those trashy American shows, The Bachelor, that dropped that night. I was off-shift. Came in at 6am because of the Mrs. Price emergency.” Simon’s eyebrow twitches under his mask. Three days after getting his sister back and this is what sniffs out the rat? An American show Johnny loves to pirate? He wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Johnny catches his eye and he can’t fault the man for the grin on his face. When Simon turns back to Richard, red in the face, he’s pretty sure the man’s figured it out. “The Bachelor drops Mondays.”

Richard sputters, twitching. “We were catchin’ up from the week before.” Simon shakes his head, glancing at the papers on the table to his left. “You had off every other night that week and only got to it by Sunday? Tellin’ me the wife keeps up with the drop schedule but waited six days?” He walks closer to Richard, gloved hands gripping the man’s jaw tightly. He presses his fingers into the bruise near his mouth, pressing hard until he breaks.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m in debt, man, 50,000 Euros. No one knows so when I lost to the guy at that shithole of a bar and he offered me a job, I couldn’t say no! He said it was just a few documents, wouldn’t hurt anyone…” Stupid, stupid, stupid. Before Simon can grab a tool from the wall, Johnny clears his throat. “Let me, sir. Gaz called. You’re needed at base.” That could only mean one thing. Simon nods, swallowing thickly as he leaves the room to the sound of screams. 

It’s a half hour drive back to the Castle, but it feels like eons. Simon changes his gloves and mask with the limo partition up, even swapping his sweatshirt out for your benefit. The smell of blood fades when the fabric is removed, bundled into a trash bag he leaves in the car. When Simon double checks his phone, his hands are shaking. Another oddity of the week, too miniscule to dwell on.

It’s been three days since he last saw you, cuddled up in Price’s arms like an injured stray. For all Simon has tried to protect you from, the insults of childhood and your shared shitty father, it worries him to think you got hurt despite his greatest efforts. There’s no doubt that you’re a strong woman, but he’s not sure what Shepherd did to you and no matter what, there’s only so much a person can take. The guilt that’s been following him since the marriage is heavy like a chain, weighing down his every motion. Did he marry you off too early? Was Price the wrong pick? Thoughts swirl like a snowstorm in his head, only stopping when the car pulls up to the Castle.

It’s the perfect home he would have picked for you, given the chance. Sophisticated wealth, nothing flashy or too pretentious. Gaz mentioned that you redecorated, and he can see parts of you in the artwork, in the new chairs meant for casual conversation instead of just functionality. You’ve turned the base into a home and the guilt creeps up again thinking of how you might have never returned to it.

“Mr. Riley.” The door guards nod at Simon as he walks through. He feels out of place in his hoodie, used to his lax uniform in Manchester. Price styles himself more as a businessman than Simon ever has. He hides the scars with gloves and a mask but he doesn’t delude himself into thinking of himself as a professional. He’s more like the head of a wolf pack, barking and snarling at anyone who gets too close. Nothing like Price and he’s glad for it. You deserve someone who can give you a semblance of a normal life, pretending like he’s going to work at an office instead of meeting illicit weapons dealers on the edge of town.

Gaz is waiting for him in the foyer, immaculate in a deep blue button-up. It’s the first time he’s seen the man shaved, a testament to the bonds that you forged with Price men that were tested in the past week. “Ghost.” Gaz nods, leading him through the Castle. “How is she?” Gaz walks slower than usual, seeming to need more time before bringing Simon upstairs. “She’s…recovering. Been talking with a trauma therapist the Captain trusts.” Simon nods. He can’t imagine what they put you through, why John ordered him to find a new set of clothes when they found you. Everything he learns is a strike against Phil, whenever Simon finds him. John promised him retribution.

“How is she physically? They hurt her?” Gaz stops in front of the stairs, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “She’s skittish. Can’t approach ‘er from behind, got t’ give ‘er plenty of warnin’. I only saw her last night when she came down for some food, ‘s the first time she’s been out of the room. The Captain’s given me a temporary title while he’s taking care of ‘er.” It’s not temporary. Simon can sense it, leadership senses setting off alarms. Loyalty, initiative, intelligence - Gaz has it all. A fine replacement if he’s ever seen one. Too bad Johnny hates him. 

Simon nods, ready to see his sister. Before he can step up the stairs, Gaz clears his throat. “If you can, sir, convince her to drink some water? Last night, all she could do was look at the glass.” Christ. What did they do to you?

When Simon climbs up the stairs, you’re lounging in the sitting room, swathed in clothes too big for you. The couch you’re on is out of place, tugged from its original spot so the back is now against the wall. Tactical. He ensures his steps are loud so you sit up with a smile instead of a shudder. “Si!” You grin and his heart stops at the fact you still have the ability to. They didn’t take everything. “Hey, love. Can I hug ya?” You nod, setting your book down with your arms reaching up. “I missed you.” You murmur as he hugs you. The angle is awkward as he towers over you but he doesn’t particularly care, sitting down next to you while keeping you in his arms.

“How ya doin’, kid?” He asks when you release him. Simon slips off his medical mask into his pocket. On closer look, you’re wearing John’s clothes, the name of some obscure London footie team emboldened on the chest. He can hear the man’s voice come from behind the closed bedroom door, likely on a phone call. “I’m okay. John got me a therapist and she’s really helping. She specializes in kidnapping victims and immediate solutions and…yeah. Isn’t that a bit weird, saying I’ve been kidnapped?” On second look, you don’t look your best. There’s circles on your eyes and faded bruises on your jaw, like someone grabbed it and forced it open. Instead of answering, Simon brushes the soft skin of your neck until he can find your pulse. You don’t jolt like he expected you to, instead curling into the feeling of his familiar touch. 

“I knew somethin’ was wrong ‘fore Gaz called. Had this dream of you screamin’ my name, askin’ for my help from somewhere far. When I woke, I just knew. Ready to tear the world apart f’ you, kiddo. You’re still my little sister to protect.” A tear escapes your eye. He brushes it away, then squeezes your cheek like a grandmother would before pulling back. “I’m still lookin’ f’r others who were involved. They’ll get what’s coming for ‘em.” You nod, catching his hand before he pulls back completely. “Thank you for that, Si, but also, I just- just need you here, you know? I think your presence here will do a lot more for me than being an avenging angel.” He gets it, he does, but he didn’t get to kill Shepherd. He was John’s but Phil is Simon’s and no matter what, he will be found. “Think there’s a way f’r us to split it?” It. His time. Your wants, his needs. 

You squeeze his hand and nod. “I think so.” You croak out. Simon can sense the need for levity, so he starts telling you about how Johnny almost got himself blown up a few weeks ago when dealing with a Chinese chemical supplier. Simon’s not usually the joker between you two but he channels the infectious energy of his husband, in pursuit of making you laugh. You finally giggle when he mimics the windblown look on Johnny’s face, even putting in the effort to mimic his mohawk with his hands. It’s goofy and reminiscent of your childhood, the ghost of Tommy making a rare appearance in the corner of the room. Your kidnapping has sent Simon off the edge and out of character, desperate to do anything to repair what has been broken.

The bedroom door creaks open and John’s heavy footsteps follow. “Hi, sweetheart.” John approaches the couch head on, kissing your forehead before nodding at Simon. “Simon.” He nods back, not feeling the need to put his mask back on. “John.” “What is this?” Your eyes flick between the two of them, brows furrowed. Simon looks at John, who shrugs. “What’re ya talkin about?” You frown at Simon’s words, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Since when is there a bromance? What did I miss?” John sighs, dragging a hand down his face. Simon reaches out to ruffle your hairdo, smiling when you screech and bat his hand away. “‘S called mutual respect, sweetheart. Not sure what a bromance is.” You mock John’s sigh, rolling your eyes. “You’ll be wearing friendship bracelets by the end of this year if you keep going on this trajectory.” The men lock eyes with twin glances of horror.

“On that note, you good if I pop in downstairs, sweetheart? Gaz needed help on something.” A look of understanding passes between you two, a look Simon has felt time and time again with his husband. It’s like a punch to the gut in the softest way possible. “All good, I’ll be here with Simon.” John nods, kissing your forehead before taking a few steps back towards the staircase. Before he can leave, Simon clears his throat. “John, you have any condos or safehouses in the area you aren’t usin’?” John’s eyes flicker with a different kind of understanding. “Enough space for two, I gather?” Simon nods, ignoring how you’re kicking his shin. “For a month or two, at least.” You kick him harder and he shoves your foot away in a playful push. “I’ll see what I can do.” John responds, nodding before heading down the stairs. 

“You’re stayin’?” When he turns to look at you, your lip is quivering. He sighs in faux exhaustion before tugging your legs on top of his. “‘Course I’m stayin’. Can’t let my baby sister fight alone.” You shyly wipe your eyes before meeting his own. “What about the business in Manchester?” He shrugs, acting like he didn’t spend hours on the phone with his best men last night. “It’s what I’ve got men for. Plus, you can show me ‘round.” Instead of squealing or jumping him, you give him a small smile. It feels older and mellow, something he hates. “Thanks, Si.” He squeezes your foot. He wants to bring up the water drinking, but you seem a little fragile right now. He’s got time now, something he won’t miscount. “‘S what I’m here for. Now tell me the rest ‘f y’r redecoratin’ plans. That entryway could use some work.” You grin and he’s reminded of the toothy five-year old, playing hide and seek in the Riley house of horrors. A survivor, through and through.

-

Every day passes faster than the last. You find out your therapist, Marie, is actually Dr. Marie Laswell, Kate’s wife. She promises you that despite their marriage, everything you share is confidential and stays between you. It’s hard work, recounting everything that happened in your daily meetings. John is there, kissing your forehead and cuddling you after nightmares, like the perfect gentleman. As the adrenaline drains and you find yourself living again, you crave more than that.

You want to go back to your last fight. You know it could be self-sabotage, but in the confines of the Castle, it’s like nothing can harm you. John only has guards you know working. Terrance stops by once or twice, telling you he got promoted. Simon visits whenever he can. Your reunion with Johnny is heartfelt and strong. Gaz feels like a son now, protective and firm about your security. All of these facts coalesce into a suit of armor, knowing that as long as you don’t leave the building, you are safe.

Marie tells you it’s not the healthiest mindset. You remind her progress is progress. She sighs in a way that reminds you of her wife.

The one-month anniversary of your kidnapping creeps up on you, haunting the corners of your mind. There’s an ache deep in your heart to return to normal, no matter what he said about finding a new one. You want so badly to change without looking over your shoulder. On rainy days, there’s a phantom ache in the side of your arm that Phil sunk a syringe into. He’s still in the wind, a fact that agitates Simon more and more. Small wins happen too. There are days you don’t need John at home, content with phone calls throughout the day and a long dinner at night. You’ve gone on two (2!) walks by yourself, passing through the park across from the Castle as guards trail behind you and at the corners of the park. You’ve progressed to Gatorade and flavored carbonated water but still jump at unknown touches. Except, of course, John’s.

Every night runs like clockwork. You shower, John standing outside the door like a protective hound. Then you slip on a robe and let him in, brushing your teeth and finishing your routine together. He leaves to ‘check something’ and always returns with a new non-water liquid he wants you to try, like a new Gatorade or flavor of tea. In the time he’s gone, you change. You’ve graduated from speed-changing to taking your time, rubbing lotion on your body before slipping on pajamas. When John comes back, you cuddle and talk, and then lights out.

The same damn routine. Every. Night. You feel like a nun.

The anniversary passes without little fanfare. John takes the day off, unusual but part of the new normal. Gaz is left in charge again, a fact he’s getting more used to. When you wake in the morning, something else new happens.

Morning light warms your eyelids. John’s arm is a comfortable weight around your waist, his forearm hair rubbing the patch of your stomach exposed by your raised shirt. Something pulses low in your belly. When he turns to pull you closer into him, your stomach flutters. His face tucked into your neck, the weight of him searing as his body is half-slung over yours. It’s a welcome change from how you usually find yourself on top of him, like he’s pinning you to reality. A body scan reveals wetness between your thighs and a keenness between your lips.

When you cant your hips slightly, chasing that fluttering feeling, his cock twitches in his sweats where it’s against the outside of your thigh. You tilt them higher, fighting against the weight of him, and smile when his cock twitches again. “Go t’sleep.” He groans, rough and sleepy into your ear. Instead of listening, you push your thigh outwards to the heavy weight of him.

“Watch what y’r doin’, pet.” Pet is new. Unlocking a new nickname sends a thrill down your spine. You ignore the connotations behind it. “John…” You whisper, injecting an extra breath of air into your speech. He pulls his head up, hair mussed and eyes blurry. He’s beautiful.

He props himself up on his forearm, giving your own arm freedom to move. You do so, sliding it from his neck to his torso, snaking down to follow his happy trail. “What d’ya think y’r doin’?” You run your fingers through his trimmed body hair, only dipping slightly into the elastic of his boxers. “I want to feel you.” You blink at him with wide eyes. He pulls his core backwards, letting your hand drop on the mattress. “Y’r not ready.” You frown, scooting back into your pillows so you can properly meet his eyes. “I think I get to decide that, John.” He closes his eyes, sighing. “I was readin’ an article and-” You huff, pulling back further until you’re sitting on the opposite side of the bed. 

“This is the problem we have, John. You trust external sources more than me.” If he was a weaker man, he’d look whiplashed. Unfortunately, you got a husband prepared for anything, a man who can argue at the drop of a hat. “I’m jus’ sayin’, sweetheart, maybe we wait. I don’t want t’ hurt ya.” You scoff, pulling your knees to your chest. “Can you trust when I say you won’t hurt me? That I can handle myself and know my limits?” He’s silent for a second too long.

You launch yourself out of the bed, heading for the bathroom. He’s faster than you, weak from weeks of lethargy, beating you to the punch to stand in front of the door instead of tugging you back into him. “Stop.” You place a hand on his chest, intent to push him away, but all he does is cover it with his own. “Can you jus’ wait for a second?” That’s when you take a second look at your husband. How he’s panting like he’s out of breath, even if you know he goes for runs every day. His pupils are blown and feral, a predator in the wild. You stand for a bit, letting your palm track how his breaths go in and out of his chest.

“Deep breaths for me, baby.” How nostalgic it feels, the roles reversed as this time it’s you talking him off a ledge. His breathing calms after a minute, eyes going tame as he squeezes the life out of your hand. When he’s calmed, he speaks. “The last time you ran from me after an argument, you were taken from me.” Your heart breaks a little at the weakness he lets you see. Your hand slides up into his beard, brushing over the rough strands as you look in his eyes. “I wasn’t running, John. I just needed some space.” He shakes his head in disagreement. “Ya don’t know what it felt like, seein’ you step into tha’ car an’ gettin’ a call hours later that you were gone.” You nod, biting your lip.

“You’re right, John. I don’t know. And you don’t know how my brain works. You don’t know how harsh grips trigger me but yours never have.” Understanding brews in his eyes, cloudy like a cup of coffee. He pulls you in closer by the waist, lining you up until your pelvises meet. “I get it, sweetheart. I trust you.” You exhale a breath at his words.

“I didn’t take ya on tha’ trip months ago because I was meetin’ a new supplier an’ I didn’t trust him. You know firsthand now how dangerous my world is. I know you’ve lived this life, but London is more cutthroat than Manchester could ever be. ‘M not sorry f’r smotherin’ ya, because at least y’r safe. ‘S my number one concern in this world.” It’s terrible, how you don’t care that he’s admitted that he smothers you. How all you care about is how he knew what you were referencing, even if it was from months ago.

“How do I know you want me for me?” Another concern of yours from your fight before the kidnapping. He shrugs, giving you a wry smile. “Guess you’ll have to trust me.”

You drag him into the bathroom, jumping onto the counter and pulling him between your legs. You practically maul his face, kissing him with unrestrained want. His admission flipped a switch in you, a longing that’s been asleep for a while. It wakes up when he pulls you closer to his pelvis, your clothed cunt rubbing against the outline of his cock. You’re still wet from earlier, your folds sticking to airy fabric. 

“Didn’t want it like this.” He breathes behind your ear. John sucks a soft patch of skin there, licking at the sweat from your sleep before trailing down your neck. “Wanted t’ eat ya out f’r an hour ‘fore even pullin’ my cock out.” You run a hand down his rigid back muscles, pulling at the fabric until he lets you tug it off. John laves his tongue at your neck, alternating between sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin. His hands grip your hard, thumbs inching closer and closer to your core. You’re wearing shorts without underwear, a perfect combination that he soon discovers. “What else?” You moan, leaning your head back until it hits the mirror behind you. It’s perfect, knowing there’s nothing but a wall behind your back. It calms the worried part of your brain, letting you fully focus on the moment.

“Then I’d let ya suck my cock, get it nice an’ warm in tha’ mouth of yours. Let you rub y’r cunt against me.” You whine at the image, nails digging into his back as he continues making out with your neck. Finally, he tugs your sleep shirt off, trailing downwards to suck at your tits. He squeezes one while sucking the other, pulling hard enough to make it hurt. There’s no part of him you can reach, the angle of it awkward and wrong. The solution is to trail your free hand up your thigh, passing his hands to push the fabric of your shorts aside and thumb at your clit. “Wha’s this, hm?” He murmurs, switching to your other tit. “Wanna be ready f’ you, John.” The wetness seeping from your cunt makes it easy to slip a finger in, stretching yourself in preparation for your husband. He’s letting you set the rhythm in a way he usually doesn’t, and you love him for it, something you don’t think too hard about.

“Let me?” He asks and you nod immediately. He replaces your hand with his own, sliding two thick fingers into your hole. You clench immediately at the intrusion, more out of tension than fear. John stops, glancing up at you from where he’s leaning down. “Need me to stop?” You shake your head, moving your hips forward so his fingers slide in deeper. “It’s just been a while.” John is still stopped, searching your face for something. “I trust you, John. I need you to say it back or this won’t work.” His eyes don’t leave your face, nodding slowly. “I trust you with my life, baby. An’ I trust ya with yours. You gonna let me stretch you out?” Instead of answering, you start to grind slowly, fucking yourself on his fingers. His gaze drops down, watching your cunt squeeze him tight. 

“How’d I get so lucky, hm? Perfect wife, dropped right into my lap.” John makes you work for it, angling his thumb so your clit hits it with every grind. It’s the most work your body has done in months and you love it, love the burn in your muscles as you command them to work. “This is goin’ t’ be a lot shorter than I wanted it t’ be, pet. Can’t focus when y’r mewlin’ f’r my cock like this.” You whine at his words. John pulls his fingers out, a string of slick trailing after them. He rubs them against your chest, pointed nipples scraping against your own wetness. The friction makes you delirious and needy in his arms. “John, I need you.” He hums, that same hand pushing down his sweats to reveal his cock, thick and heavy in his hand. He gives it a pump and you watch him spread your slick around it, mixing with his precum to make it even smoother.

“Last chance, baby.” John lines his cock up with your cunt. He rubs it up and down, catching on your clit every other time. “Shut the fuck up and fuck me, John.” His name on your lips is punctuated with a gasp as he pushes into you. You let out a string of curses at the intrusion. No matter how many times John has given you his fingers, the blunt width of his cock is so much more. It’s been over a year since you’ve fucked someone, and it’s never been like this. It’s never been dark blue eyes filled with trust and care, flicking down every so often to watch his cock go in and out. It’s never been dangling over the precipice of an orgasm so fast, the speed of it hitting you like a lightning strike. He fucks you through it, his hand on the back of your neck, forcing you to look down at where you’re joined. You watch your tits and stomach bounce at his movements and you watch as he hungers for it.

John’s a talker. This you’ve known, but it’s never been like this. 

“Look at you, taking my cock so well. Fuckin’ made f’r it.”

“Y’r cunny’s so tight, baby. This all for me?”“So desperate for it, pet.”

“Such a good girl for daddy. C’mon, say it.”

It makes you clench and mewl and claw at his back. He tries to kiss you but all you can do is let your mouth fall open and pant against him. Your first orgasm left you weak-willed, eager to follow his instructions. You nod your assent to every word, sweat dripping into your eyes. The second orgasm builds slow in your core. It burns with every thrust, every brush of your clit that John’s thumb makes. You lean your head back so it hits the mirror, suddenly realizing that your actions echo each other in the mirror behind John.

Your mouth is open. Sweat makes your skin glisten. You settle your weight on your hands and arch your back, a glimpse of your tits visible in the glass. It means you look almost whorish but it doesn’t matter because it’s for your husband, whose muscled back ripples with every thrust. That’s the image that sends you over the edge, whining John’s name as you fall off the edge. 

“Where, baby?” John meets your eyes with a burning question. You look down at the creamy ring around his cock, the slight of it sending another hazy spark to your core. “Inside.” This time John’s the one cursing, dropping his forehead to your collarbone as he watches himself come inside his wife. Finally, with his soft cock still inside you, John slows to a stuttering stop.

“Oh fuck.” John looks up at your panicked words with a matching expression. “Somethin’ hurt?” Your mouth opens, then closes. “What? No. I just remembered I stopped taking my birth control because of what happened. I haven’t been on it in over a month. And Plan-B’s really mess up my cycle.” John laughs. Your husband laughs, with his forehead on your collarbone and his cock inside you, pushing his cum in further. “This is not funny, John!” He shakes his head before meeting your eyes. “I got a vasectomy.” You blink. “What do you mean, you got a vasectomy?” He drags a hand down his face. Instead of answering, John eases out of the tight hold of your cunt. He fishes for a washcloth somewhere near, running warm water over it before swiping at your inner thighs. “When we had tha’ conversation about Gaz. Didn’t want it to happen after tha’ an’ not be prepared.” You squint in confusion. “I timed it with your period.” You bark out a laugh of disbelief.

“You’re fucking crazy.” He looks up at you with worry etched into his face, like he’s done something wrong. All you do is smile and pull him in, kissing his nose like he’s adorable. “I hate you.” You say, laughing. “You love me.” He murmurs against your skin. You don’t refute it, shutting him up with a kiss.

-

Phil watches and waits.

Her husband keeps leaving her alone. Phil’s camera screens flicker, shots of her through windows and from the park. The brother is closing in but it doesn’t matter, not when he’s so close to completing his mission. He must watch and wait.

-

one. chapter. left.

i barely edited this so if you see any mistakes no you didn't

-

@heretoreadanddrinktea

@peachyxrosie

@joufrance

@galactict3a

@exactlyyoungchaos

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@alleycc

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@throwing-up-butterflies

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@earthcole

@backfromthedeadhehehe

@baduzzxy

@thegreyjoyed

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@mrsmalfoy1005

@all-by-myself98

@snburntandsad

@baklovers

@rmikaelson01

@leon-thot-kennedy

@the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned

@barcelonaaababe

@brokenandemptyhearts

@sleep101

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@lilynotdilly

@teenagellamaangel

@harperdoodle

@ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii

@violetisheresworld

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@polyfandom-blogs 

@burrowedinnature77

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@thriving-n-jiving

@krispymagazinepizza-blog

@grayskel

@rpgsandstuff

@hisuccubus

@lumi-kalyke

@gimmeabreak1

[chelseaknoo]

Valentine’s Day with Eminem

Eminem x Reader

Caution: semi-sexual content and Marshall’s baby fever <3

Note:sorry it’s a day late! And any era of Eminem you want!

For the past two years, you and Marshall had been together, and despite his usual tough-guy exterior, you knew how much he loved you. He showed it in his own way—whether it was pulling you closer in his sleep, always making sure you were safe, or spoiling you just because he felt like it.

With Valentine’s Day right around the corner, you wanted to do something special for him. Marshall wasn’t the type to get overly sentimental about holidays, but you knew he’d appreciate the thought, even if he acted like it wasn’t a big deal.

After weeks of planning, you finally settled on the perfect gifts—a luxury watch, custom jewelry designed specifically for him, and, of course, a fresh pair of sneakers. You knew he had more shoes than he could ever wear, but the man had a weakness for them, and you loved seeing his face light up when he got a new pair.

The packages sat neatly wrapped in your closet, hidden from sight. You were excited to give them to him, but Valentine’s Day wasn’t here just yet.

One evening, as you sat on the couch scrolling through your phone, Marshall strolled into the living room, his brow slightly furrowed as he looked at you suspiciously.

“You been actin’ sneaky as fuck lately,” he muttered, flopping down next to you. “What the hell you up to?”

You smirked, locking your phone. “What makes you think I’m up to something?”

He narrowed his eyes. “’Cause I know you. Every time you try to hide shit from me, you start actin’ all innocent like that. What is it? You plannin’ some kinda bullshit prank?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, Marshall. Not everything I do is about messing with you.”

“Mm-hmm,” he grumbled, still unconvinced. “I swear, if you put hot sauce in my coffee again, I’m dumpin’ your ass.”

You rolled your eyes. “That was one time, and you deserved it.”

“The fuck I do?” he shot back. “I ain’t do nothin’ to you!”

“You called me a brat all day just because I didn’t wanna watch Scarface for the hundredth time.”

Marshall scoffed. “First off, Scarface is a goddamn classic. Second, you are a brat, and third—” He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing again. “Wait, why are we talkin’ about that? Don’t change the subject. What are you hiding?”

You smirked, leaning in closer to him. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t like that.”

“You’ll live,” you teased, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before standing up.

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you back onto his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist. “Nah, see, now I really wanna know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck.

You laughed, pushing at his chest. “You’re not gonna distract me.”

“The fuck I ain’t,” he muttered, nipping at your skin lightly.

You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered. He really did have a way of making you melt, but you weren’t about to give in that easily.

“Marshall,” you warned playfully.

He sighed dramatically, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Fine. Keep your little secrets. But if I find out you got me some corny-ass matching couple shit, I’m tellin’ you right now, I ain’t wearin’ it.”

You bit your lip to hold back a smile. “Not even if it’s really cool?”

“Not even if Jesus himself came down and told me to put that shit on.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

He groaned, tightening his arms around you. “Fuckin’ hate waiting.”

“Too bad,” you teased, kissing his cheek again before slipping out of his grasp.

Valentine’s Day was coming soon, but for now, you’d let him suffer in suspense.

-

You stirred awake to the faint smell of coffee and something sweet—pancakes, maybe? Your brows furrowed as you turned onto your side, reaching out, only to realize the other side of the bed was empty. That was unusual. Normally, Marshall stayed in bed as long as he could, clinging to you like a damn koala.

You rubbed your eyes and sat up slowly, your hair a mess and your body still heavy with sleep. Just as you were about to call out for him, the bedroom door pushed open, and there he was—your grumpy, foul-mouthed boyfriend, holding a tray of food in one hand and a massive bouquet of deep red roses in the other.

"Happy fuckin’ Valentine’s Day, baby," he said, a smirk tugging at his lips as he made his way over.

You blinked, still half-asleep. "Marshall…?"

"What?" He quirked a brow, setting the tray down on your lap before plopping onto the bed next to you. "Look at that, I ain't completely useless. I ain't burn the fuckin’ kitchen down or nothin’."

A slow, sleepy smile spread across your lips as you looked down at the tray. There was a plate stacked with pancakes—heart-shaped, even—alongside crispy bacon, eggs, and a cup of coffee, just how you liked it.

"You… made this?" you asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Well, no shit. You see anybody else in this house?" he scoffed. "I ain't about to let some random motherfucker come in here and cook for my girl."

You chuckled, picking up a piece of bacon. "I mean, I wouldn’t put it past you to have Paul do it."

Marshall snorted. "The fuck would I look like, callin’ Paul at six in the morning talkin’ ‘bout, ‘Yo, come make my girl some breakfast’?"

You laughed, shaking your head before glancing at the roses. "And these?"

"These are also for my girl," he said, handing you the bouquet. "Real as hell, just like you."

Your heart swelled, and you traced your fingers over the soft petals, inhaling the fresh scent. He wasn’t the biggest romantic, but when he did things like this, it meant even more.

"You really went all out," you murmured, looking up at him.

He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, well… you deserve it."

Your chest tightened at his words, and you set the roses down beside you before leaning over to kiss him. He cupped the back of your head, deepening it, his other hand slipping under the covers to squeeze your thigh.

"Mmm," you hummed against his lips before pulling back slightly. "This is really sweet, Marshall."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, trying to pull you back in. "Eat your damn food before it gets cold."

You smirked. "You just don’t wanna admit you’re a softie."

"The fuck I do," he grumbled.

"Making me breakfast, getting me flowers…" You tilted your head. "You gonna write me a poem next?"

He deadpanned. "You want me to?"

You burst out laughing. "No, no, I’d rather keep my ears intact."

He narrowed his eyes. "You a real fuckin’ comedian, huh?"

You winked, picking up your fork. "Only for you, babe."

He shook his head, muttering under his breath as he leaned back against the headboard, watching you eat.

-

After finishing your breakfast, you leaned back against the headboard, completely satisfied. “Damn, Marshall,” you said, dabbing your lips with a napkin. “That was actually really good.”

He smirked. “The fuck you mean ‘actually’? Like you expected me to fuck it up?”

You giggled, stretching before glancing over at him. “You said you wanted to take me out, right?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, running a hand through his short blonde hair. “Figured we could do somethin’ nice since it’s Valentine’s Day ‘n’ all.”

You grinned. “Aww, look at you being all romantic.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t push it.”

Laughing, you hopped out of bed and stretched again. “Alright, well, I need to get ready.”

Marshall gave you a look. “How long we talkin’? ‘Cause if it’s some two-hour bullshit—”

Before he could finish, you cut him off by playfully shoving him toward the bedroom door. “Go do something productive while I get dressed.”

“I was doin’ somethin’ productive—sittin’ here lookin’ at my beautiful ass girl,” he shot back, smirking.

You shook your head, laughing as you finally managed to push him out and shut the door. Now it was time to get ready.

Thirty Minutes Later

“Babe!”

You heard Marshall’s irritated voice from the other side of the door.

“Yo, what the fuck is takin’ so long? We goin’ out today or next Valentine’s Day?”

You smiled to yourself, carefully applying the last touch of gloss to your lips. “Be patient!”

“Patient? I been sittin’ here for thirty fuckin’ minutes! You better be comin’ out lookin’ like a goddamn supermodel or some shit.”

You smirked at your reflection. Oh, he was definitely going to eat his words.

Finally satisfied, you strutted over to the door and swung it open, stepping out dramatically.

Marshall, who had been leaning against the wall, looking down at his phone, glanced up—and instantly froze.

His blue eyes widened as they slowly traveled from your head to your toes, taking in every damn detail. You were wearing a form-fitting, deep red mini dress that hugged every curve just right. The fabric clung to your body like a second skin, accentuating your waist and hips. The plunging neckline showed off your cleavage, and the thin straps left your shoulders completely bare. The dress stopped mid-thigh, revealing your smooth legs, paired with sleek black stilettos that made them look even longer.

Your makeup was flawless—dark, sultry eyeshadow, long lashes, and your lips painted a soft glossy red to match the dress. Your hair cascaded in perfect waves, framing your face effortlessly.

You smirked. “Well? Supermodel enough for you?”

Marshall blinked, his mouth opening slightly before shutting again. He looked you up and down one more time, then dragged a hand down his face.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”

You giggled, stepping closer. “Is that a good ‘Jesus fuckin’ Christ’ or a bad one?”

He scoffed. “Oh, it’s good, alright. Good enough that now I don’t even wanna go nowhere.” His hands found your hips, pulling you in. “Matter fact, how ‘bout we stay our asses right here?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing at his chest. “Nope, you said we’re going out. Let’s go.”

He groaned, but reluctantly let go, stepping back. “You doin’ this shit on purpose,” he muttered, shaking his head as he grabbed his keys.

You smirked, picking up your clutch. “Maybe.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath as you both walked to the car.

Once outside, Marshall opened the passenger door for you, but just as you were about to get in, he grabbed your wrist.

“Hold the fuck up.”

You turned to him, confused. “What?”

His gaze darkened. “This dress—where the fuck is the rest of it?”

You burst out laughing. “Marshall—”

“Nah, I’m serious. This shit barely covers anything,” he grumbled, eyeing the way the fabric stretched over your curves.

“You’re being dramatic,” you teased, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Dramatic?” he scoffed. “Nah, ‘cause I already know muthafuckers gonna be lookin’ at you, and then I’ma have to beat somebody’s ass.”

You giggled, sliding into the seat. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“I ain’t jealous,” he muttered, slamming the door before walking around to the driver’s side.

When he got in, he cut you a side glance, still frowning.

You smirked. “If it makes you feel better, I only care about your eyes on me.”

Marshall grunted as he started the car. “Damn right you do.”

You shook your head, still smiling. The night hadn’t even started yet, and it was already entertaining.

-

After getting into the car, Marshall still hadn't gotten over the dress you were wearing. He kept throwing glances your way, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he drove.

“I swear to God, if one muthafucker even thinks about staring at you too long, I’m knockin’ his ass out.”

You laughed, adjusting your seatbelt. “Marshall, relax. I dress like this for you.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, well, I don’t like sharin’.”

You smirked, reaching over to rest your hand on his thigh. “Then maybe you should take me shopping and pick out what you like.”

Marshall gave you a look, raising an eyebrow. “Shopping?”

You nodded innocently. “Mhm. You said it’s our day, right?”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Aight, fine. But if you think I ain’t keepin’ an eye on what the fuck you’re buyin’—”

You grinned, cutting him off. “Let’s go before you change your mind.”

At the Mall

Marshall should’ve known this was a bad idea.

Not because he didn’t want to spoil you—he did. Hell, he’d give you the whole damn world if he could. But damn, the way you were tossing clothes into the shopping bags like money wasn’t a real thing? Yeah, that was starting to fuck with his head.

“Yo,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he eyed the price tag on one of the bags. “You tryna make me go broke?”

You giggled, slipping your arm around his. “Marshall, you have millions.”

“And at this rate, I’ma have zero.” He sighed dramatically, watching as you picked up another outfit. “What even is this? That shit ain't even enough fabric to be called clothes.”

You held up the tiny lace lingerie set with a smirk. “Oh, this? It’s for later.”

Marshall’s jaw clenched, and he snatched it out of your hands, tossing it over his arm before grabbing your wrist and pulling you close. “You are wearin’ this for me, right?”

You batted your lashes. “Who else?”

His blue eyes darkened slightly before he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You know what? Fuck it. Get whatever the fuck you want. Just remember, you wear this little shit outside? We fightin’.”

You laughed, kissing his cheek. “Noted.”

By the time you were done, Marshall was carrying way too many bags, grumbling under his breath the whole time.

“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” he muttered as you both walked toward the exit. “Why you need this much shit?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” you reminded him, smiling. “You said you wanted to spoil me.”

“Yeah, but damn.” He shifted the bags in his arms. “Next time, I’m takin’ you to Target.”

Lunch Date

After dropping the bags off in the car, you and Marshall headed to a nice little restaurant nearby.

As soon as you both sat down, Marshall leaned back in his seat, stretching. “Aight, now this part I don’t mind. Food? I can get behind that shit.”

You smiled, flipping through the menu. “Oh, so you don’t mind spending money on food but clothes are a problem?”

“Damn right,” he muttered. “Food don’t make me question my fuckin’ bank account.”

You giggled, shaking your head before deciding on what you wanted. When the waitress came over, Marshall ordered for both of you, making sure you got exactly what you liked.

Once the food arrived, you could tell Marshall was in his happy place. His entire mood shifted the second he took that first bite.

“God damn,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “This shit good as fuck.”

You laughed, watching him practically melt into his seat. “You act like you’ve never had a meal before.”

He shrugged, taking another bite. “Shit, I ain’t sayin’ that. Just sayin’, whoever made this needs a raise.”

Smirking, you picked up your fork and held a piece of food out to him. “Here, try this.”

Marshall raised an eyebrow. “You tryna feed me now?”

“Come on, don’t be shy,” you teased, wiggling the fork in front of him.

He rolled his eyes but leaned in, taking the bite. He chewed for a moment before nodding. “Aight, I see you. That shit good too.”

Smiling, you wiped a little sauce from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You got something—”

Before you could pull your hand away, Marshall smirked and suddenly took your thumb into his mouth, sucking it clean.

Your eyes widened slightly, heat rushing to your face. “Marshall!”

He chuckled, letting go. “What? You wiped it off. I just finished the job.”

Shaking your head, you picked up a fry and held it up. “Here, your turn.”

Marshall smirked, but instead of taking it with his hands, he leaned forward and took it straight from your fingers with his mouth.

“You are so dramatic,” you muttered, laughing.

He chewed and winked. “You love that shit.”

After finishing your meals, you both sat back, completely full and content. Marshall took a sip of his drink before glancing at you.

“Aight, what’s next?”

You smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He narrowed his eyes. “See, now I’m worried.”

You giggled, leaning over the table to kiss him. “Relax, babe. The day’s not over yet.”

Marshall sighed, running a hand down his face before mumbling, “I got a bad fuckin’ feelin’ ‘bout this.”

You just smiled. Oh, if only he knew.

-

The night had finally arrived, and Marshall had been quiet for most of the drive, the soft hum of the car's engine filling the spaces between you two. The city lights flickered outside as you both made your way toward your dinner destination, but you had something to share before it all went down.

"Hey," you said, breaking the silence and shifting slightly in your seat to grab the bag you had stashed beside you.

Marshall glanced over at you, brow furrowed. "What?"

You smirked, reaching into the bag and pulling out the small box with the watch you’d bought for him. "I got you something. For Valentine's Day."

He raised an eyebrow, looking over at you in surprise. "You didn’t need to get me shit," he grumbled, but his tone softened as his curiosity grew. "You know I ain't about all that gift shit."

You shrugged, holding the box out to him. "Yeah, well, I wanted to. So just take it."

Marshall hesitated for a moment before taking the box from your hand, his eyes lingering on you as he carefully opened it. Inside, a sleek, expensive watch glimmered under the interior lights of the car.

"Yo... what the fuck?" he muttered, his eyes going wide as he lifted the watch. "This... this shit’s expensive as hell, babe."

You just smiled. "You deserve it. You’ve been working your ass off."

Marshall laughed, shaking his head. "Damn. I don't even know what to say." He let out a low whistle, admiring the watch before slipping it on his wrist. "You're gonna make me feel guilty for not getting you something that costs this much."

You waved him off. "You already spoil me, Marshall. It’s not about the price."

Before he could respond, you reached into the bag again, pulling out more boxes. "And there's more."

He turned his head toward you, an eyebrow cocked in suspicion. "You serious? You get me more shit?"

You chuckled softly, handing it over. "You’ll see."

He opened it slowly, his expression changing from confusion to shock as he revealed the custom chain—his initials carved into the thick gold links, designed with care and made specifically for him. Then the expensive sneakers, which also blew his mind.

"Goddamn..." he whispered, clearly impressed. "This is... this is fuckin' next level."

You grinned. "I figured you’d like it."

"Like it? Babe, I fuckin’ love it." His voice softened, and his gaze turned to you, his usual tough demeanor melting away. "You didn’t have to do all this, though."

You shrugged, feeling a little bashful at the sincerity in his eyes. "I wanted to."

Marshall smiled, shaking his head. "You're something else, you know that? Thank you." He took a deep breath, looking down at the watch and chain once more. "I feel like a damn millionaire now."

You laughed. "You *are* a damn millionaire."

"Yeah, but this... this is a different kind of flex," he said, the grin on his face growing wider. "I’m not tryna show off, but damn, I look good."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile. "You always look good."

He shot you a playful wink before pulling into the parking lot of the restaurant. "Alright, now it’s my turn to take care of you."

You glanced around at the fancy cars parked in front of the restaurant, feeling the anticipation building up. "Where are we going?"

Marshall parked the car, turning off the engine. "It’s a surprise."

You raised an eyebrow, but before you could say anything else, he was already getting out of the car and opening your door. "Come on, let’s go."

You took his hand as he led you toward the entrance of the restaurant, the warmth of the night air brushing against your skin. The moment you stepped inside, you were hit with the unmistakable scent of luxury—wood paneling, rich leather seats, and the soft clinking of silverware.

The hostess greeted you both, giving you a nod as she checked the reservation list. "Mr. Mathers, your table is ready."

Marshall smirked, glancing over at you. "I told you I got this."

As you followed her to your table, you couldn’t help but notice the view—this restaurant had a balcony seating area that overlooked the entire city. The lights below looked like a sea of stars, and the atmosphere was quiet, intimate.

The hostess pulled out the chair for you, and you sat down, still in awe of the beautiful setting. Marshall slid into the seat next to you, his eyes scanning the area as he looked satisfied with himself.

"Damn," you whispered, taking in the view. "You really went all out, huh?"

"Only for you," he said, his voice low and genuine. "I told you, I’m makin’ tonight special. You deserve it."

You reached across the table, taking his hand in yours. "I don’t need fancy stuff, Marshall. I just need you."

He squeezed your hand, his thumb running over your skin as he looked at you with a soft smile. "Yeah, well, I want to give you more than that. I want you to know you’re the best thing I got."

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face. "You’re not so bad yourself, Slim."

He chuckled at the nickname, leaning back in his chair. "Guess I got a soft spot for you, huh?"

"Guess so," you teased, leaning forward as you eyed the menu. "So what are we ordering?"

Marshall scanned the options, but you could tell he was still lost in thought. He stared at you for a moment, his gaze lingering before he looked away. "I’ll let you pick. You know what you like."

You raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Are you serious? You’re not even gonna help?"

He leaned in, his voice lowering to something more playful. "Hell no. It’s your night. I’m just here to enjoy the view."

-

You couldn't resist. There was something so satisfying about pushing Marshall’s buttons, especially when he was already feeling the weight of the night’s lavish surprises. The waiter stood at your table, waiting patiently for your order. Marshall was leaning back in his chair, trying to look casual, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. You decided it was time to have some fun.

"Alright," you said, flipping through the menu one last time. "I’ll have the lobster bisque as a starter. And, uh, the Wagyu beef, medium-rare, with a side of truffle fries."

Marshall's eyes widened as he leaned forward, clearly about to say something.

"Also, throw in the foie gras. Gotta go all out, right?" You grinned, knowing full well he’d start to get worked up.

Marshall’s mouth hung open for a second before he snapped it shut, glancing at you with a mix of disbelief and amusement. "You gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me," he muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing. "I’m tryna treat you right, and you’re gonna hit me with that shit?"

The waiter, trying his best to be polite, wrote down your order and nodded before walking off to place it in the kitchen. Marshall turned his attention back to you, looking like he was about to burst.

"You really gonna make me pay for all this?" he asked, an amused yet annoyed look crossing his face. "I mean, I get it, it’s Valentine’s Day, but fuck. What’s next, a bottle of 200-dollar champagne?"

You chuckled, leaning back in your chair, enjoying the show. "Maybe," you teased, trying to hold in your laughter. "Why not? You only live once, right?"

Marshall shook his head in mock disbelief, his hands running over his face as if he couldn’t believe the audacity. "You are somethin’ else, you know that?" His tone was half exasperated, half impressed. "I swear, you’re gonna bankrupt me before this night’s over."

"Yeah, well, I like to live dangerously," you said, still grinning. "You knew what you were getting into when you started dating me, Marshall. Don’t act all surprised."

Marshall let out a deep sigh and rolled his eyes. "Fuckin' crazy," he muttered under his breath, though his lips were still curling up at the edges. "You really are a pain in my ass."

"Yeah, but you love it," you teased, giving him a wink.

"Love it? Hell, I’m just tryna keep my bank account from catchin' fire." He paused, glancing at you sideways with a smirk. "But... I guess you do look good enough to justify it. Maybe."

You laughed, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe?"

"Alright, alright," he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "You look damn good. I’ll give you that. But don’t push it, alright?"

The waiter returned soon after with a basket of freshly baked bread and a bottle of sparkling water, which you immediately ignored, still grinning. "The bread looks good, but I’m holding out for the good stuff," you said, leaning forward, clearly relishing the moment.

Marshall grabbed a piece of bread, tearing into it with a sigh, clearly trying to calm himself down. "I swear, if you order another thousand-dollar meal, I’m gonna fucking lose it."

"You’ll be fine," you said nonchalantly, enjoying every second of his misery. "It’s not like you’re gonna go broke over this."

"Don’t jinx me, babe," he shot back, shoving a piece of bread in his mouth. "You’re making me second guess every damn decision I’ve made tonight."

You leaned back in your chair, taking a sip of the water. "Relax, Marshall. You’re not gonna die from a fancy dinner."

"Well, if I do, I’m blaming you," he said, taking another bite of bread. "I told you I didn’t want any of this shit. But here I am, gettin’ sucked into your ridiculousness."

You smiled smugly. "You love it. Don’t lie."

He threw his hands up in exasperation, but there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Alright, fine. I love it. But damn, you’re gonna make me broke doing it."

"Hey, at least I’m worth it," you said, giving him a wink.

"Yeah, yeah," Marshall muttered, shaking his head as he reached for the wine list on the table. "You better be worth it, or else I’m putting my foot down."

You leaned over the table toward him, your smile widening. "You wouldn’t dare."

"Try me," he shot back with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. "You know I’ll do it."

As the conversation continued, the food started to arrive, each dish more expensive and extravagant than the last. The lobster bisque came out first, and it was rich, creamy, and perfect. Marshall hesitated for a second before taking a bite.

"Okay," he said begrudgingly. "This actually tastes pretty damn good."

"I know," you said, taking a spoonful yourself. "Told you."

The next dish, the Wagyu beef, arrived, perfectly seared and looking like it belonged in a five-star restaurant. You cut into it with ease, savoring the flavor. Marshall just shook his head, staring at the plate in disbelief.

"You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me," he muttered. "How the hell is this worth that much money?"

"Because it’s amazing," you replied with a grin. "It’s like the best steak you’ve ever had, but a hundred times better."

Marshall finally dug into his steak, pausing for a moment before looking up at you. "Alright, I’ll admit it. This is... fuckin’ delicious."

"Told you," you said smugly.

As the night went on, you both fed each other little bites of the various dishes, laughing and teasing each other along the way. You'd fork a piece of your steak and hold it out for him to eat, and he'd do the same with the truffle fries. You could see him start to relax, though he still had that playful edge to him.

After a while, Marshall leaned back in his chair, his arm casually resting on the back of yours. "You’re a handful, but damn if you don’t make this fun."

You rested your head against his shoulder, content. "And you love every second of it."

"Yeah, yeah. Don’t get cocky," he grumbled, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.

As the night wore on, the atmosphere at the restaurant was starting to feel a little different. The balcony where you were sitting had a great view of the city, but with that view came a lot of attention. You were halfway through your meal when you noticed the first pair of eyes lingering on your boyfriend. Marshall didn’t seem to notice at first, but as you looked around, it became obvious that people were staring, some of them even sneaking pictures and videos on their phones.

You sighed and glanced over at Marshall, who was still focused on his food, though you could tell something was starting to bug him. He could sense it too. His brow furrowed, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath, his gaze darting to a couple sitting at a nearby table, their phone held up just a little too obviously in his direction. "Do these assholes have no shame?"

You tried to shrug it off, giving him a small smile to reassure him. "It’s fine, Marshall. Let them take their stupid pictures. We’re here to enjoy the night, right?"

But that didn't seem to calm him down. His jaw tightened as he leaned back in his chair, clearly irritated. "Yeah, I get it. But it’s like, can’t a guy just have a fucking dinner without being treated like a damn zoo animal?"

You could tell he was starting to get worked up, so you reached over and put a hand on his, squeezing it gently. "I know, but this is what comes with the territory, babe. You’re Eminem. People want a piece of you."

He shot you a look, his eyes narrowing with frustration. "I don’t give a shit about all that. I just wanna eat my fucking food in peace."

"Yeah, I get it," you said, trying to calm him down, "but they’re gonna do it anyway. Might as well not let it ruin the night."

Marshall leaned forward, shaking his head. "It’s just annoying, man. Every time we go out, it’s like I’m fuckin’ on display." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You’d think they’d give me a break, especially on a night like tonight."

"I’m fine with it," you said, leaning in close. "I’m used to it by now. It’s not a big deal. Let them stare. They’re not important."

Marshall shot a glance at you, his lips pressed into a thin line, clearly still frustrated. "I just don’t like it. Makes me feel like I’m some fucking animal in a cage." He turned back toward the table, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. "I want to be here with you, not with a bunch of fucking strangers watching me eat like I’m some kind of freak."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his over-the-top reaction, but you understood. Being in the public eye like he was, it was no surprise that sometimes he’d get sick of it. Still, you didn’t want it to ruin the vibe of the night.

"Okay, okay, I get it," you said, smiling as you reached for your glass of wine. "But how about this? Let’s just enjoy the meal. If they wanna stare, fine. But you and me, we’re gonna have a good time tonight. Just us."

Marshall looked at you for a moment, his eyes softening slightly. "Yeah, yeah. I guess you’re right. I’m just so fucking tired of it sometimes." He let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing his face with both hands.

"I know, babe," you said, squeezing his hand again. "But let’s not let them ruin our night, okay? We deserve this."

He gave you a small, reluctant smile, his mood lightening just a bit. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Fuck 'em."

You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Exactly. Fuck 'em. They’re not important."

Just as you said that, a couple at the next table discreetly took another picture, trying to be sneaky about it. You caught them and shot them a pointed look, but the couple quickly turned their attention back to their own conversation. Marshall noticed it too, and his lips twitched in amusement.

"See? Told you," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Fucking ridiculous."

"Don’t let them get to you," you said, smiling. "They’re just fans. They’ll get over it."

"Yeah, well, I hope they do before I fucking snap," he grumbled. But even though he was still irritated, you could tell his mood was lifting a little.

The waiter came back around to check on you, and Marshall put on a strained smile, though you could tell he was still agitated. "Yeah, we’re good," he said, though his voice lacked the usual enthusiasm. "Just, uh, you know, dealing with some bullshit over here."

The waiter smiled politely, unaware of the tension. "Of course, sir. Is there anything else I can get you?"

Marshall shook his head, his grip on his wine glass tightening. "Nah, we’re good for now. Thanks."

Once the waiter left, you turned to Marshall, trying to make him laugh. "You know, if you just smiled at them, they might stop."

Marshall shot you a side-eye, his lips curling in a sarcastic smirk. "You want me to smile at them? Like a fucking puppy?"

You burst out laughing. "Well, it might help."

"Yeah, well, fuck that," he grumbled. "I’m not here to entertain anyone. I’m here with you." He finally relaxed in his seat, his mood starting to shift as he took a deep breath. "Sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to be a dick. Just... sometimes I wish I could have a night out without all this shit."

"I get it, really," you said softly, reaching across the table to touch his hand. "But we’re here now. Just focus on me. I don’t care what they’re doing."

Marshall’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his earlier frustration fading. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

Eminem leaned back in his chair, eyes sparkling mischievously as he glanced at you. You’d been enjoying the rest of your meal, laughing and joking around, but his demeanor had changed. You could tell something was coming.

"Alright, baby," he said with a sly grin, leaning toward you. "I’ve got one more surprise for you."

You raised an eyebrow, feeling the excitement bubble up. "Another one? What is it?"

He just shook his head, a little smirk playing on his lips. "Nope. You gotta trust me. Close your eyes."

You narrowed your eyes playfully at him, not quite believing him. "You’re not gonna make me do something weird, are you?"

He chuckled. "Nah, I wouldn’t do that. Just... close your eyes. Trust me."

Rolling your eyes but smiling, you obeyed, closing them and folding your arms on the table. Your heart started beating faster as the anticipation grew. "Alright, I’m trusting you," you said, your voice a little shaky with excitement.

"Good. Keep them closed."

You could hear the slight shuffle of movement, the sound of footsteps, and then a long silence. It was killing you not knowing what was happening. You felt a nervous laugh bubble up inside you. "Marshall, what the hell are you doing?"

But there was no response. Only the sound of people quietly whispering in the background. You felt a sudden shift in the air, a tension that you couldn’t quite place.

"Okay," Marshall's voice broke through, soft yet full of confidence. "Open them."

You hesitated for a second, unsure of what to expect. Slowly, you opened your eyes—and your breath hitched in your throat.

There he was, kneeling right in front of you. Marshall. Your Marshall. On one knee. And in his hand was the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen. Your heart immediately pounded in your chest, and your eyes stung with tears.

"Shit," you whispered, feeling the tears start to well up.

He laughed softly, the sound a mix of amusement and something deeper—something you couldn’t quite place yet.

"You know," he started, his voice growing serious, though there was still that familiar playful tone, "you’re the most annoying fucking bitch I’ve ever met."

You laughed through your tears, wiping your eyes quickly. "What?!"

"You are," he said with a smirk. "You drive me fucking crazy."

Your lips parted in shock, and you almost laughed, trying to push back the tears. "I—"

"But..." He paused for dramatic effect, his gaze never leaving yours. "You’re also the most smoking hot woman I’ve ever seen in my goddamn life. You’re beautiful as hell, and yeah, you’re an annoying bitch, but I don’t wanna spend another fucking day without you."

Your chest tightened as you fought back more tears. Marshall wasn’t exactly the type to spill his emotions, but when he did, it was always raw.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself as he continued. "You drain my fucking bank account, but I don’t care. I’d spend every fucking dime just to see that smile on your face." He paused, his hand shaking slightly as he held up the ring. "You’ve made my life better, and I’m ready to make you a fucking promise. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’m asking you to be mine... forever."

Your eyes were brimming with tears now, and you struggled to find your voice. "Marshall, I—"

The crowd around you was now murmuring, a few people filming the whole moment with their phones, but you didn’t even care. It felt like it was just you and him, in that moment, the world fading into the background.

"You’ve been my fucking rock through all the bullshit, and I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you," he continued, his voice growing a little more intense. "I’m a fucking mess, but you’ve helped me put myself back together, piece by piece. So, yeah, I’m a stupid asshole sometimes. But I’ll be the best fucking man I can be... for you."

A single tear slipped down your cheek, and you wiped it away quickly, trying to steady your breath. "You’re not a mess," you whispered. "You’re everything."

Marshall gave you that trademark smirk of his. "So, will you marry me, you crazy ass woman?"

You paused, your heart racing, your mind spinning. Everything around you was fading—just you and him. You looked down at the beautiful ring in his hand, and then back up at him.

"Yes," you said, barely able to get the words out. "Yes, yes, yes!"

The room erupted into cheers as Marshall slid the ring onto your finger. You couldn’t believe it. You didn’t know what to say, so you just threw your arms around him, pulling him in for a kiss. It was rough, filled with passion and love, and you could feel the relief and joy flooding through him.

"I fucking love you," he muttered against your lips. "Don’t ever forget that."

You smiled through your tears, your heart full. "I won’t. I love you too."

-

Once you and Marshall got back to your place, the whole day felt like it was still buzzing through the air. The car ride home had been quiet, but it was a comfortable quiet, one that said more than words could. Marshall's hand had been on your thigh the entire drive, and every now and then, he’d glance at you with that knowing look that made your heart skip a beat.

You knew he was excited, not just about the day, but about the life he was promising you. And hell, you were excited too. Everything had been building up to this moment—this moment where he was finally yours, and you were his.

When you walked through the door, you didn’t even bother with small talk. You wanted to keep the night going in the best way possible. "I need to change," you said, already pulling your coat off and walking toward the bedroom. "Don’t follow me," you added with a teasing glance, knowing he’d be on your heels in an instant.

But this time, he listened.

You closed the bedroom door behind you and slid the lingerie you’d picked out at the mall earlier that day from the shopping bag. It was a black lace set, the kind that was sexy as hell but still had that mysterious, classy edge. You smirked to yourself as you undressed and slipped into it, checking yourself in the mirror. It was tight in all the right places, hugging your curves and accentuating your figure. You weren’t even going to lie, you felt fucking amazing.

You could hear Marshall out in the living room, probably pacing back and forth, anxious to see you. The anticipation was almost suffocating, but in a good way.

When you finally opened the bedroom door, his eyes immediately locked on you. He was sitting on the couch, leaning back with his elbows propped up on the arms, but when he saw you in that lingerie, he froze. His mouth parted in shock for a second, and his eyes traveled over every inch of you like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

"Goddamn, baby," he muttered under his breath. His voice was low, hoarse, like he was struggling to form the words. "You are a fucking masterpiece."

You walked toward him slowly, swaying your hips, loving the way his gaze followed every movement. "You like it?" you asked, your voice dripping with confidence, a little playful but still needy.

"Like it?" Marshall snorted, his lips curling into a smirk as he leaned forward. "Babe, I don’t just like it, I fucking love it. I can’t wait to fucking tear it off of you."

You laughed, stepping closer to him until you were standing between his legs. "You don’t have to wait much longer, Marshall."

His eyes burned into yours, and you could feel the heat rising between the two of you. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer, his breath heavy against your neck. "I swear to God, you’re gonna be the death of me," he grumbled, his hands moving up to grip your back, pulling you even closer until there was barely any space left between your bodies.

"Yeah?" you teased, your voice soft as you let your fingers graze through his hair. "What are you gonna do about it?"

"Shit," he cursed, his hands slipping down to grab your ass, pulling you flush against him. You could feel how hard he was already, and you bit your lip, your heart racing. "You’re fucking mine," he growled. "God, I can’t wait to make you mine forever. I’m gonna marry you, you know that?"

You gasped a little, feeling the weight of his words settle deep inside you. You’d known it was coming, but hearing him say it, so raw and real, hit you harder than you expected.

"You keep saying that," you said, trying to hide the emotion that was creeping up on you. "You keep telling me how much you want to marry me."

"Because I fucking do," Marshall said, his voice filled with sincerity as he looked you dead in the eyes. "You’re it for me. I don’t want anyone else. I want you. I want to wake up next to you every fucking day for the rest of my life."

You felt your heart swell, your breath catching in your throat. It was rare for Marshall to get this vulnerable, but when he did, it made everything feel so much more real.

"You mean everything to me, baby," he continued, his voice soft but intense, "and I’m not going anywhere. I want to marry you and fucking spoil you. I wanna do all the shit I never thought I’d do, just to see you smile. You deserve all of it."

Your chest tightened with emotion, and you couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath. "I love you," you whispered, your hands trembling slightly as you slid them down to his chest.

"I fucking love you too," he murmured back, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. "And when I’m done with you tonight, you’re gonna know exactly how much."

-

Extra:

Marshall’s hands roamed over your body, every touch sending sparks through you as you kissed each other harder. His lips trailed down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. When he pulled away, he looked at you, eyes dark with desire.

“You know,” he murmured, voice thick, “we should have kids. Yeah, seriously. You’d look fucking amazing pregnant.” He smirked, his hands moving down to your waist. “I can already picture it. Your tits getting all full of milk, your body getting even more plump. Shit, you’d be even sexier as a mother.”

You couldn’t even respond, your mind too clouded by desire. His words only made your pulse race faster, and you could barely focus on anything other than how badly you wanted him. Your body was already overwhelmed, and you couldn’t do anything but let him continue, caught in the heat of the moment.

[fayelero]

ⓘ 01. VALENTINE’S DAY !

⤷ FLUFF ﹫ valentine’s special ﹫ multiple

⌗ katsuki, kirishima, denki, shoto, keigo

⚠︎ fluff, jealousy (katsuki) .ᐟ.ᐟ

The halls of U.A. were buzzing with excitement as students exchanged chocolates, gifts, and heartfelt confessions. You weren’t the biggest fan of overly public displays of affection, but today was different—it was Valentine’s Day, and you had a certain explosive blonde boyfriend who, despite his brash nature, had a softer side reserved just for you.

You had been dating Katsuki Bakugo for a while now, and though he wasn’t the type to be openly affectionate, you knew he cared. He showed it in his own way—walking you home, making sure you ate enough, and protecting you in battle without hesitation. But today, he had gone out of his way to surprise you.

You were heading to your locker when suddenly, a firm yet familiar hand grabbed your wrist and yanked you into an empty classroom. You barely had time to react before the door clicked shut behind you.

“Katsu—?”

“Shut up for a sec,” he muttered, cheeks tinged with a faint blush as he dug into his pocket.

Your heart pounded in anticipation. Bakugo wasn’t one for grand gestures, and he especially hated anything that would make him the subject of teasing from his friends. But when he pulled out a small velvet box and a bouquet of deep red roses, your breath hitched.

“You better not laugh,” he grumbled, shoving the roses into your hands. “Here. I know you like this kinda shit.”

Your eyes widened as you took the flowers, the sweet scent filling your senses. “Katsuki… these are beautiful!”

He clicked his tongue, looking away as he popped open the small box to reveal a delicate silver necklace with a small charm—your initial intertwined with his.

“Got this, too,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Figured you’d like it, so… whatever.”

Your heart melted at his flustered demeanor. “Oh my god, I love it!” Without hesitation, you threw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

He stiffened for a moment before relaxing into your embrace, resting his chin on top of your head. “Tch, don’t get all sappy on me now,” he grumbled, though the warmth in his voice betrayed him.

You pulled back slightly and cupped his face, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He kissed back, albeit roughly, his hand gripping your waist possessively before he pulled away with a scoff.

“Turn around, dumbass. Lemme put it on you.”

You obediently turned, lifting your hair as he fastened the necklace around your neck. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Once he was done, you turned back around, your hand touching the charm.

“It’s perfect,” you said softly.

A smug smirk played on his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go before those idiots come lookin’ for us.”

With your hand in his, you walked back out into the hallway, making your way to your locker. Students were still milling about, exchanging gifts and talking about their Valentine’s plans.

When you reached your locker, you carefully placed the roses inside, but as you did, your eyes caught something unexpected—a folded piece of paper resting on the shelf.

Your brows furrowed as you picked it up. “What’s this?”

Bakugo, standing beside you, peered over your shoulder. “Dunno. Open it.”

You unfolded the note, and your heart skipped a beat as your eyes scanned the words written in elegant handwriting.

Dear Y/N,

I’ve admired you for so long, and I couldn’t let Valentine’s Day pass without telling you how amazing you are. You’re kind, strong, and beautiful, and I wish I had the courage to tell you this in person. No matter what, I just want you to know that you deserve the best. Happy Valentine’s Day.

Your stomach twisted, and you could practically feel the air crackling with tension beside you.

“The hell is this?” Bakugo’s voice was low and dangerous.

You turned to look at him, and if looks could kill, the entire hallway would’ve exploded. His ruby-red eyes were dark with fury as he snatched the letter from your hands, scanning it again, his grip tightening with each passing second.

“Who the fuck wrote this?” he growled.

You swallowed nervously and tried not to laugh. “I… I don’t know.”

Bakugo crumpled the letter in his fist, his jaw clenched so tightly you thought his teeth might crack. “Some extra thinks they can confess to my girl? They’ve got some fuckin’ nerve.”

You placed a hand on his chest while holding your laugh, trying to calm him. “Katsuki, I—”

“No. This isn’t fuckin’ happening.” His arm wrapped around your waist possessively, pulling you close. “You’re my girl. Don’t need some shitty love letter from some coward who can’t even say it to your face.”

You sighed but chuckled, cupping his cheek. “Of course, I’m your girlfriend.”

He huffed but visibly relaxed under your touch. “Damn right.”

Before you could say anything else, a familiar voice called out from behind you.

“Yo, what’s with the angry look, Bakugo? Someone steal your girl?”

You turned to see Denki and Kirishima approaching, Denki grinning like he was about to tease the hell out of Bakugo.

Bakugo shot them a deadly glare, stuffing the crumpled letter into his pocket. “Shut the hell up before I blast your dumb face off.”

Denki raised his hands in surrender, but Kirishima looked between the two of you, noticing your new necklace. “Whoa, did Bakugo get that for you?”

Your face warmed, and Bakugo scoffed. “Yeah, so what?”

Denki smirked. “Aw, look at you being all romantic. Didn’t know you had it in you, man.”

Bakugo growled, sparks popping from his palm. “Say another word and I’ll end you.”

You giggled, squeezing Bakugo’s hand. “Come on, Katsu. Let’s go.”

With one last glare at Denki, Bakugo led you down the hall, his grip on your hand tight, his possessiveness evident.

The soft hum of students chatting filled the classroom as the lesson dragged on. You were tapping your pen against your notebook absentmindedly, stealing occasional glances at the clock. Just a few more minutes until class ended, and you could finally enjoy the rest of Valentine’s Day.

As you turned your attention back to your notes, something small and folded landed on your desk. Your eyebrows lifted in curiosity, and you glanced around to see if the teacher had noticed. When you looked to your side, Kirishima Eijiro was avoiding eye contact, his face dusted with a light pink blush as he scratched the back of his head.

Smiling to yourself, you unfolded the note under your desk.

Hey, Y/N!

Wanna go out with me after class? I, uh, have something planned, and I really hope you’ll like it. Just nod if you’re in!

You bit your lip to suppress a grin before looking at him. His crimson eyes darted to yours nervously, as if bracing himself for rejection. Trying not to giggle at how adorable he was, you nodded enthusiastically.

His reaction was priceless—his face brightened instantly, his sharp teeth peeking through as he beamed at you, barely holding back a celebratory fist pump.

The rest of class felt like forever, both of you sneaking excited glances at each other. When the bell finally rang, you gathered your things quickly and practically bounced over to Kirishima’s desk.

“You ready?” you asked, your voice light with excitement.

He laughed nervously, rubbing his hands on his pants as he stood up. “Y-Yeah! Let’s go!”

Despite his usual confidence, you could tell he was on edge. You knew how much this day meant to him—your first Valentine’s Day together. Kirishima wasn’t the type to half-ass anything, so he’d no doubt spent a lot of time planning something special.

He led you outside, his warm hand wrapping around yours as he guided you through the streets of Musutafu. The February air was crisp, but the excitement in your heart made it easy to ignore the cold.

After a few minutes, you arrived in front of a small, cozy café you had mentioned wanting to try weeks ago. Your eyes widened in surprise.

“You remembered?” you asked, turning to him with a touched expression.

Kirishima rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Of course I did! I know you were excited about it, so I thought… well, it’d be the perfect place for today.”

Your heart melted. “You’re the best, Eiji.”

His blush deepened, and he grinned, quickly opening the door for you. “Ladies first!”

The café was warm and inviting, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sweet pastries filling the air. The two of you found a quiet table by the window, and you couldn’t help but admire how much effort he had put into this.

As you both browsed the menu, Kirishima fidgeted, tapping his fingers against the table. When the waiter came over, he got so flustered trying to order that he accidentally knocked over the sugar jar.

Your eyes widened, but instead of being embarrassed, you let out a soft chuckle, covering your mouth. “Relax, Eiji. It’s just sugar.”

He groaned, running a hand through his spiky hair. “Ugh, I just don’t wanna mess this up. It’s our first Valentine’s together, and I want it to be perfect.”

You reached across the table, gently taking his hand. “It is perfect, because it’s you. Clumsy or not, I love spending time with you.”

His eyes softened as he squeezed your hand, a lopsided smile forming. “You always know how to make me feel better.”

After placing your orders, the two of you talked and laughed, time slipping by effortlessly. Kirishima relaxed more with every passing moment, his nervous energy replaced by his usual enthusiasm.

When the food arrived, he practically inhaled his dessert, getting a bit of whipped cream on his nose in the process.

You giggled. “Eiji, you’ve got—”

“Huh?” He blinked at you, confused.

Shaking your head fondly, you leaned forward and wiped the cream off with your thumb before licking it off. “Got it.”

His face turned a deep shade of red, and he choked on his drink. “Y-Y/N! You can’t just—!”

You laughed at his reaction. “You’re too tense, relax!”

“Not so manly from me,” he mumbled, pouting slightly as he recovered.

After finishing your drinks, Kirishima’s demeanor shifted again—nervous, but determined. He reached into his pocket, his fingers wrapping around something.

Taking a deep breath, he looked at you, his usual fiery confidence battling with his nerves. “Okay, so… I, uh, got you something.”

You tilted your head. “You did? Eiji, you didn’t have to—”

“No, I wanted to,” he said firmly, before pulling out a small black box and placing it on the table between you.

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at it. “Eijiro…”

“Open it,” he urged, shifting in his seat.

With slightly trembling fingers, you lifted the lid to reveal a gorgeous silver ring with a small gemstone embedded in it—the same color as his eyes.

Your breath hitched. “It’s beautiful…”

Kirishima exhaled, rubbing his neck. “I saw it and thought of you. I know it’s not, like, an engagement ring or anything—but it’s a promise, y’know? That I’ll always be here for you. That no matter what, I’ll have your back.”

Your vision blurred slightly as your heart swelled with affection. “Eiji…”

Before he could get any more nervous, you reached across the table, grabbing his face and pulling him into a deep kiss. He let out a surprised noise but quickly melted into it, his large hands cupping yours.

When you pulled away, your eyes shimmered. “I love it. And I love you.”

His face lit up with pure joy, his sharp teeth showing in the biggest grin you’d ever seen. “I love you too, Y/N!”

Slipping the ring onto your finger, you admired how perfectly it fit. You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers, your heart brimming with happiness.

This was, without a doubt, the best Valentine’s Day ever.

The morning of Valentine’s Day started with a text—no, scratch that, a flood of texts.

Denki [6:45 AM]: BABE WAKE UP

Denki [6:46 AM]: IT’S VALENTINE’S DAYYYYYY

Denki [6:46 AM]: Get ready, because I’m about to make you feel like the luckiest girl alive!

Denki [6:47 AM]: And also I may or may not need help carrying something

You blinked at your phone, groaning as you rolled over. You weren’t even out of bed yet, and Denki was already in full hyper mode.

You [6:49 AM]: What did you do?

A minute later, another text came through.

Denki [6:50 AM]: Nothing bad! Just something AWESOME. Be outside in ten ;)

You sighed but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Denki always had this chaotic yet endearing energy, and you had a feeling whatever he had planned was going to be a lot. You quickly got dressed in your U.A. uniform, brushed your hair, and hurried outside.

What you saw made your jaw drop.

Standing at your doorstep, grinning like a fool, was Denki Kaminari, holding—no, STRUGGLING to hold—a massive teddy bear, a gorgeous bouquet of flowers, a small, elegant box, and an entire bag of fancy chocolates.

“TA-DAAAAA!” he announced, nearly toppling over as the bear wobbled in his grip. He quickly steadied himself, flashing you his usual electric grin. “Happy Valentine’s Day, babe!”

You gawked at him, your eyes darting between the absurdly large stuffed bear, the flowers, the chocolates, and the tiny velvet box in his hand.

“Baby…” you started, eyes wide, “This is—this is so much!”

“I know, right?” He beamed proudly. “I may have gone a little overboard, but like, it’s our first real Valentine’s Day together, so I had to go big! You deserve it!”

You ran a hand through your hair, still staring at the pile of gifts. The teddy bear was practically half your size. The bouquet was so full of roses, it looked like something from a movie. And then there was the tiny box in his hands—which could only mean jewelry.

Your heart squeezed. You wanted to tell him he really didn’t have to do all this, but the way his golden eyes shone with excitement made it impossible to say anything but:

“…This is too much,” you said, laughing softly, “but also, thank you, babe. Seriously.”

Denki’s grin softened as he set the bear down with a dramatic oof before stepping closer. He lifted the small box, opening it to reveal a delicate silver bracelet, lined with tiny lightning bolt charms.

“Here, this one’s my favorite part,” he murmured. “I saw it and thought, ‘this is literally so us’—you know, ‘cause I’m all zap zap and you’re all gorgeous and amazing—so I had to get it.”

Your cheeks heated as he gently took your wrist, fastening the bracelet around it. It fit perfectly, the tiny charms glinting in the morning light.

“…Okay, this part is actually perfect,” you admitted, smiling as you turned your wrist to admire it. “I love it.”

Denki practically vibrated with joy. “YES! I KNEW IT!”

Then reality hit. You had to go to school. With all of this.

You glanced at the enormous teddy bear, the bouquet, the box of chocolates—how were you even supposed to carry all this around U.A. all day?!

Denki, oblivious, picked up the teddy bear and proudly placed it in your arms. “Okay, now let’s get to school!”

“…babe, I can’t—how am I supposed to carry this around all day?” you asked, voice somewhere between amused and exasperated.

He blinked. “Oh.” Then he rubbed the back of his neck, laughing. “Uh… I didn’t think that far ahead.”

You deadpanned. “Clearly.”

“Okay, okay, new plan!” he said quickly. “We drop the bear and chocolates off in the dorms, and you just take the flowers and bracelet with you. Boom! Genius, right?”

“Actually, yeah, that is a good plan,” you admitted.

Denki gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “Babe. Are you saying I just had a smart moment?”

You smirked, poking his chest. “Don’t let it get to your head, Sparky.”

He threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both started walking toward the U.A. dorms. “Oh, it’s absolutely getting to my head. But also, I’m just really happy you like everything.”

You smiled, leaning into him. “I do. And I like you even more, you dork.”

Denki made an exaggerated swooning noise. “Oh my GAWD, my girlfriend just made my whole year.”

You laughed, shaking your head. Maybe it was way too much, but honestly? That was just so Denki. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The streets of Musutafu were dusted with a thin layer of snow, the chill of February still clinging to the air despite the early evening hour. Streetlights cast a soft golden glow on the sidewalks, and the occasional burst of laughter from passing couples and friends filled the atmosphere with warmth. It was Valentine’s Day, and for once, you weren’t spending it alone or just watching others celebrate—you were spending it with Shoto Todoroki.

You glanced at the boy walking beside you, his dual-colored hair standing out even in the dim light. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his coat, and though his expression was calm as always, the slight pink dusting his ears made you smile.

“You didn’t have to buy me all that, you know,” you said, shifting the small bag in your hand—a small, elegant gift bag from a local store, courtesy of Shoto.

“I wanted to,” he replied simply. “Besides, it’s Valentine’s Day. I should get you something nice.”

You huffed playfully. “You already gave me a gift this morning.”

Shoto tilted his head slightly, thinking. “That was different.”

You laughed. “How?”

He blinked, as if the answer was obvious. “That was for the morning. This is for now.”

Your heart warmed at the sincerity in his voice. He wasn’t the type to shower people with words, but the way he always thought of you—always made sure you felt special—meant more than anything.

The two of you continued walking in comfortable silence, your steps in sync as the city buzzed around you. Small shops had their windows decorated with hearts, and couples strolled by, hands intertwined. You felt Shoto’s gaze flicker to your hand briefly, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he nodded toward a cozy-looking café on the corner.

“Do you want to go in?” he asked.

You smiled. “That sounds perfect.”

The café was warm, filled with the scent of coffee, chocolate, and fresh pastries. A few couples were seated near the windows, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of the hanging lights. The atmosphere was peaceful, perfect for the kind of quiet, intimate moment you knew Shoto preferred.

He led you to a small table near the corner, where the view of the street was still visible but slightly secluded from the rest of the café. The two of you sat down, and you sighed contentedly as warmth seeped into your fingers.

Shoto studied the menu for a moment before glancing at you. “What do you want? My treat.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you already treat me?”

He gave you a look—one of those subtle yet affectionate ones that always made your heart stutter. “That was different,” he repeated.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, alright. I’ll get a hot chocolate, then.”

He nodded, then walked up to the counter to order. You watched as he stood there, his tall frame relaxed, one hand in his pocket while the other gestured slightly as he spoke to the barista. Even with his usual stoic demeanor, there was something so effortlessly charming about him.

When he returned with two drinks—your hot chocolate and what you assumed was his usual black coffee—you smiled up at him. “Thank you, Sho.”

He set your drink in front of you, then slid into his seat. “You don’t have to thank me every time.”

“I do when it’s sweet,” you teased, taking a sip. The rich chocolate warmed you instantly.

Shoto took a careful sip of his coffee before setting it down. His eyes lingered on you for a moment, and you could tell he was thinking about something.

“What is it?” you asked gently.

He exhaled softly, glancing out the window before looking back at you. “I was just thinking… this is the first time I’ve really celebrated Valentine’s Day like this.”

You blinked, setting your cup down. “Really?”

He nodded. “My family never did much for it. And in the past, I never really… thought about it. It just felt like another day.”

Your chest tightened at the quiet honesty in his voice. You reached across the table, placing your hand over his. He looked down at your joined hands before curling his fingers slightly around yours.

“Well, I’m glad you’re celebrating it now,” you said softly. “And I’m really glad I get to be the one spending it with you.”

A small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of Shoto’s lips. He squeezed your hand lightly. “Me too.”

By the time you left the café, the night air was crisp but not unpleasant. Shoto walked a little closer to you this time, his hand occasionally brushing against yours. The streets had quieted, the earlier crowds thinning out.

As you passed by a small shop, Shoto suddenly stopped. “Wait here.”

You blinked. “Huh?” But before you could ask anything else, he had already stepped inside.

You watched curiously as he spoke briefly with the shopkeeper before emerging a minute later, holding something behind his back.

“What did you just—”

Shoto stepped closer, then gently held out a single red rose. His eyes softened as he looked at you. “For you.”

Your breath hitched. A single rose. It wasn’t extravagant or flashy, but it was perfect—because it was from him.

Smiling, you carefully took it from his hand. “Sho…”

He looked slightly unsure. “Do you like it?”

You held the rose close to your chest, nodding. “I love it.”

Something in his shoulders relaxed, and his lips quirked up ever so slightly. Without thinking, you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Shoto froze for a second, his eyes widening slightly. Then, slowly, his cheeks turned a faint shade of pink—not from the cold this time.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Sho,” you murmured.

His gaze softened as he reached for your hand, holding it properly this time. His fingers were warm against yours, a steady presence in the cold night air.

“…Happy Valentine’s Day.”

The penthouse was quiet, save for the faint hum of the city below and the occasional flicker of the television that had been playing some random show in the background. You were curled up under a blanket, barely awake, scrolling through your phone when it vibrated with a new message.

Keigo [9:42 PM]: Get ready, I’ll pick you up in 20 minutes.

You sat up so fast the blanket fell off your shoulders. “Are you kidding me?” you muttered, scrambling out of bed.

Your damn bird of a boyfriend could have at least given you some kind of warning! You were still in your pajamas, for crying out loud.

Muttering curses under your breath, you bolted toward your closet, flinging it open as you desperately searched for something appropriate. Your eyes landed on a long, elegant black dress—sleek, centered at the waist, and perfect for a last-minute dinner you weren’t warned about.

“Damn featherbrain,” you grumbled, tugging the dress on.

You barely had time for makeup, so you went for something simple—a bit of mascara, lip gloss, and a touch of jewelry before throwing your hair into a slightly messy but passable style. You grabbed your purse, slipping into your heels just as the familiar sound of wings beating against the air reached your ears.

A gust of wind blew in from the balcony. You turned just in time to see Keigo Takami—Pro Hero Hawks—landing smoothly, golden eyes gleaming with amusement as he took in your rushed state.

“Ready?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

You glared. “No, I am not ready! You could have told me sooner!”

He chuckled, running a hand through his messy blond hair. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You huffed, grabbing your purse and storming toward the front door. “Let’s just go.”

Before you could reach for the handle, you felt a pair of strong arms loop around your waist. You barely had a second to react before Keigo hoisted you up effortlessly, wings spreading wide.

You froze. “Keigo—NO.”

“Keigo—YES.” He grinned.

Your heart plummeted as he kicked off the ground, lifting both of you into the night sky.

The cold wind rushed past you, and you instinctively buried your face into his shoulder, clutching onto him like your life depended on it.

Which—it kind of did.

Keigo laughed, the deep, rich sound vibrating through his chest. “You’re so dramatic, babe.”

“I hate flying,” you mumbled against his shoulder.

“You hate flying alone. You love flying with me.”

“That is an outright lie, I can’t even fly alone.”

Keigo hummed, amused, as he adjusted his grip on you, his strong arms holding you securely. “You’ll survive.”

You peeked out from his shoulder, the city lights stretching beneath you in a breathtaking display. It was beautiful… but also terrifying.

“I swear, if I die—”

“You won’t,” he said smoothly, his lips brushing against the top of your head.

Despite yourself, you sighed, melting slightly into his embrace.

When Keigo finally landed outside the fancy restaurant, you nearly collapsed onto the ground in relief.

“I am never doing that again,” you declared dramatically, smoothing down your dress.

Keigo snickered, leading you inside with a hand on the small of your back. “You say that every time.”

The restaurant was luxurious, filled with soft golden lighting, elegant décor, and the quiet hum of music playing in the background. A few people turned their heads as they recognized Hawks, but Keigo paid them no mind, his focus entirely on you.

Once you were seated at a private table, the tension from earlier faded, replaced by the warm, intimate atmosphere between you.

Keigo leaned back in his chair, golden eyes studying you with that familiar lazy, yet utterly enamored gaze. “So, how was your day, babe?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Oh, you know. Peaceful—until a certain someone decided to ambush me with last-minute plans.”

He chuckled, sipping his drink. “Hey, I like keeping you on your toes.”

You shook your head fondly. “How was patrol?”

“Boring. Missed you,” he said smoothly, sending a slow wink your way.

You flushed, laughing. “You’re so corny.”

“And you love it.”

The conversation flowed easily, the two of you exchanging stories, laughter, and playful banter between bites of food. It felt perfect—peaceful, comfortable, and so wonderfully natural.

Then, just as dessert was about to arrive, Keigo suddenly reached into his jacket pocket.

Your brows furrowed. “What are you—”

He pulled out a small, velvet box.

Your heart stopped.

The entire restaurant seemed to fade away as Keigo set the box on the table, his usual cocky smirk replaced with something softer, more serious.

He opened it—revealing a beautiful engagement ring.

Your breath hitched. “Keigo…”

He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, his expression open, vulnerable in a way you rarely saw.

“I was gonna wait ‘til later,” he admitted, voice softer than usual. “But I figured—why wait?”

You stared at him, completely caught off guard. “Are you—are you serious?”

He laughed, but there was nervousness in it this time. “What, you think I’d joke about this?”

You blinked, your heart hammering against your ribs.

Keigo Takami—the most reckless, unpredictable, flirtatious man you’d ever met—was looking at you with the most sincere expression you’d ever seen.

“I know I’m not always the easiest guy to be with,” he continued, his thumb rubbing the edge of the velvet box. “I know I stress you out, and I know I drive you crazy—”

“You do.”

He grinned. “But… you’re it for me. You always have been.” His golden eyes softened. “So, what do you say, angel? Wanna keep dealing with me for the rest of your life?”

Your chest tightened with overwhelming warmth, your entire body buzzing with emotions.

You exhaled shakily, a slow smile spreading across your lips.

“You’re an absolute menace of a boyfriend,” you murmured.

Keigo chuckled. “I know.”

“But…” You felt tears prick your eyes as you reached forward, covering his hand with yours.

“Yes.”

His breath hitched slightly. “Yeah?”

You nodded, biting your lip. “Yeah.”

For the first time, you saw actual relief wash over him—before it was replaced with a cocky, dazzling grin.

“Hell yeah,” he murmured, sliding the ring onto your finger before tugging you forward into a kiss.

The restaurant erupted into applause, but you barely noticed—because at that moment, all you could feel was him.

Keigo pulled back, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, fiancée.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “God, you’re insufferable.”

“And you love it.”

Yeah. You really, really did.

[peakyswritings]

Omg K I’m sorry I forgot to mention the character😂 but it was Tommy!

First of all, I loved how it can be read from two perspectives - pre-war and canon times. I honestly don’t know which one I prefer! Also, I’m a sucker for protective Tommy, so you can imagine I was giggling and kicking my feet when I read the actual reason why he got into that fight🤭 (Y/n) being so done suggests me it’s not the first time he shows up like that at her door in the middle of the night😂

Tommy resisted the urge to reach out and hold her waist even though he so desperately wanted to do so to steady himself.

Shahdhdhshsh please😭

She then examined the rest of his facial features for any other injury all while trying to shake the feeling of his intense gaze that was focused on her face. She couldn't let her feelings for him get the better of her... not while in this position.

Girl deserves an award for not caving in right there and then. A self-controlled queen.

I loved the whole scene where she is rambling and he’s just standing there, looking at her. It made me melt. And the way he was so cheeky about that.

"What, am I not allowed to look at you?" (Y/N) teasingly quipped back, essentially allowing their conversation to do a full 360.

Ah, I LOVED this!

K, the tension you built up with these two almost killed me. Top-tier. Chef’s kiss. I couldn’t wait for these two to finally kiss. I absolutely love what you did with this.

Thank you so much for writing it, and sorry for not replying to this sooner🤍

A Deal that Goes Both Ways | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @peakyswritings

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

Summary: Feelings get spilled as Tommy comes to (Y/N) to have her patch him up yet again.

Warnings: smoking, language, mentions of blood

Word Count: 1867

A/N: this became a full on fic…..I just didn’t know when to stop it haha. I hope you like what I did with the prompt, Reb! You didn’t add who you wanted it to be with so I went with Tommy (of course) — and this could also be read as a prewar Tommy story too…I didn’t really slap a time period on it. Enjoy! :)

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED — I’d love to know what you thought of the story!

Comment/Message me if you want to be tagged!

Not again was the first thought (Y/N) had as she heard the knock sound off of her front door. Only one person would be knocking at this time of night...and he'd most likely be knocking for only one reason.

"What happened this time, Thomas?" she asked with a sigh as she opened the door to see the man she knew was standing on the other side.

"Why so formal?" he asked nonchalantly, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips, resting on the side that wasn't split and still bloody.

"It's two in the morning," she responded, turning and walking deeper into her home. The foosteps sounding behind her told her he was following. "I'd much rather be sleeping."

"I can go if you want," he offered.

"No, you've already woken me up," she dismissed his suggestion, "what happened this time?" she re-asked her initial question.

"Same old," his nonchalant nature returned as he sat down in the chair (Y/N) pulled out for him.

"So a bar fight? Or bet gone wrong?" she paused getting the necessary supplies to quirk an eyebrow at him.

"Neither," Tommy shrugged, looking down at his busted knuckles as he flexed his hand.

"So not the same old?" there was a slight tinge of surprise in (Y/N)'s voice. "Please do tell what happened."

"Someone spoke to me the wrong way," he responded, his explanation still very vague. (Y/N) didn't press for any more info because she knew this was all she'd get out of him.

What Tommy wanted to say was that he had to punch some bastard's teeth in for speaking about her the wrong way, and then he proceeded to fight said bastard and two of his drunken friends when they wouldn't let it go. He couldn't admit that to her though.

"Ahh..." (Y/N) trailed off as she moved over to him, placing the supplies she gathered on the table beside him as she stopped to stand between his parted legs.

Tommy resisted the urge to reach out and hold her waist even though he so desperately wanted to do so to steady himself.

"Let's see what we've got here," she said, more so to herself as she gently took hold of his chin to get a better look at his face. The hiss he let out made her realize that his jaw had also been bruised in the altercation.

She quietly got started on dabbing the blood off of his split lip, and followed it up with putting some ointment on the cut in hopes it wouldn't get infected.

She then examined the rest of his facial features for any other injury all while trying to shake the feeling of his intense gaze that was focused on her face. She couldn't let her feelings for him get the better of her... not while in this position.

"Let me see your hands now," she instructed him once she considered his face finished.

"They're fine, love," he brushed her off, keeping them balled in fists resting against his thighs.

"Let me see them, Tommy," she insisted, her eyes meeting his to convey the serious nature of the situation.

The slightest sigh escaped his lips as he flattened out his hands. (Y/N)'s eyes immediately went to his right hand, and she took it into hers to get a closer look at his bloodied knuckles. "Goodness, Tommy," she breathed softly as she grabbed a wet cloth and began to gently wipe the blood off. She couldn't help but wince as he hissed at the feeling. The cuts looked deep and had to be painful. "Did the man have a steel jaw?" she, half-jokingly, questioned him as she began placing the same ointment on his knuckles.

"Must've," Tommy mumbled, letting out a soft snort at her attempts to make light of the situation.

(Y/N) smiled softly at his response, finishing up what she was doing with his right hand before she checked over his left. She then stepped out from between his legs when she considered herself done, moving over to the kitchen countertop to begin cleaning up. The scrape of the chair off of the hardwood floor told her that Tommy had also stood up.

"Make sure you some ice on your jaw and you should be good in a-" her statement was cut off by the shriek of surprise she let out when she turned around to tind Tommy now standing right behind her. "You scared me, Tommy," she gasped, placing her hand over her chest as she took some calming breaths.

"Wasn't my intention," he responded, although he couldn't help but smile at the reaction he'd gotten from her.

"You frustrate me sometimes," she huffed, shaking her head before she brought a hand up to the side of it, hoping that she could remember what it was she was saying before the surprise happened. "I was saying that if you remember to put ice on your jaw and make sure your cuts stay clean you should be good in a few days...now are you going to follow that? No, most likely not, but it's my hope that you will," she explained her plan of treatment to him, finishing her rambling by glancing up at him. "Why're you looking at me like that?" she asked without thought, commenting on the intense gaze he currently had locked on her.

His blue eyes just about made her shudder under their stare, and she'd be lying if she said that the undivided attention he was giving her was making her heat up.

"What, am I not allowed to look at you?" he asked, his brows raising.

"No, not like that, you aren't," she insisted, holding a hand out between them to emphasize her statement.

"How exactly am I looking at you, (Y/N)?" he asked another question, wanting clarification from her.

"You're looking at me like..." she trailed off, struggling to find the words that she needed to convey her statement, "like you think that l'm...like I'm some..."

"Like you're the only person in the world?" Tommy cut off her stumbling, hoping that his suggestion would finish her sentence. As he spoke he stepped closer to her.

"Yes, exactly!" she agreed with him without putting much thought into what he was saying, "you were looking at me like I was the only person in the world."

"And you don't like it?" he asked, his brow raised inquisitively.

Now (Y/N) could no longer stay solid under the weight of his gaze combined with his close proximity. She only hoped that she was able to keep a good exterior composure...on the inside she was done for.

"No, it's not that I didn't like it, it's just..."

"Just what?" he pried for more information, his eyes flitting down to her lips as he admired how she looked as he stood inches away from her.

"Jesus, you don't ever act like this, Tommy...what's going on?" she deflected with a question, hoping to carry the conversation on without him realizing that she didn't have a concrete answer to his previous question.

"You didn't answer my question, love," he completely ignored her query to remind her she was ignoring his.

"Yeah, and you didn't answer mine," she wasn't falling for his tactic, instead throwing it back in his face.

"You wanna know why I came here tonight? Why I got into that fight?" he asked her, his brows raised.

"Someone spoke to you the wrong way," she reiterated what he'd told her earlier.

"Someone spoke about you the wrong way," he quickly corrected her, telling the truth this time around and adding emphasis on what actually got him upset, "and you know I can't let anyone do that."

(Y/N) took a moment, letting what he said sink in. His intense gaze stayed locked on her, and it certainly wasn't helping her think straight in this situation. After a few beats of silence, she finally let out a sigh. "I don't need defending, Tommy. I've told you that so many times."

"I'll still take a fuckin' punch for you when I need to, love," he told her, his words making her laugh despite the wild mix of emotions she was currently feeling.

"Oh Tommy." she let out another sigh, trying, and failing, to stop the smile that was tugging on her lips. She quickly turned around and attempted to busy herself with continuing cleaning.

Her diversion didn't last long as only seconds later Tommy's hand was taking hold of her arm to spin her back around to face him. Her mouth opened slightly as she looked at him, waiting for whatever he had to say.

He didn't say anything though. Instead, his gaze flitted between her eyes and lips as he moved in slowly. (Y/N) quickly realized what he was doing. She placed her hands on his chest when she felt his breath fan across her face.

"Tommy, your lip," she said, her voice coming out in a whisper, "this'll hurt it."

"I don't give a damn about my lip, (Y/N)," he firmly replied, moving back slightly so that his eyes could match hers. He could no longer resist from bringing his hand up to hold onto her jaw. "I want to kiss you," he told her then, never sounding more sure about anything in his life.

(Y/N)'s mind was buzzing. She never thought she'd be in this position with Tommy; never thought that their relationship would take that turn. But now here they were, close enough to feel each other's breath.

"Then kiss me," she breathed, unable to even smile at him because his lips were on hers the second she finished speaking.

The kiss felt like a whirlwind. It made her dizzy and fuzzy inside. She never thought someone with such a tough exterior could be so gentle, but here was Tommy Shelby, crushing all of her prior conceptions.

Both were out of breath when they pulled away. Tommy had to close his eyes to center himself, still truly surprised that that had just happened. Truthfully, he'd wanted to kiss (Y/N) from the moment he first spoke to her. He never thought he'd actually get the opportunity. When he finally did open his eyes, he saw that (Y/N) had her gaze locked on his face, and the sweetest smile was present on hers.

"Why're you looking at me like that?" he re-asked the question that got them to this point, a grin forming on his face.

"What, am I not allowed to look at you?" (Y/N) teasingly quipped back, essentially allowing their conversation to do a full 360.

"Love you could look at me all you want, so long as I'm allowed to kiss you again," he waged a deal, playfully quirking an eyebrow as he waited to see how she'd respond.

(Y/N)'s smile only grew. "I'll accept your offer so long as this deal goes both ways."

"Oh it most certainly goes both ways," Tommy grinned, his hand finding her jaw again so that he could match their lips together once more.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @succubaby @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings

@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @mischievouslittlecreature @stevie75

@lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick

@dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety

@justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader

@red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

@ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby @wonderlanddreamer

[multific]

The Sweet Smell of Forever

Count Orlok x Reader

Summary: He was a creature of the darkness. He roamed the night, striking fear in everyone's heart. Yet, his castle bloomed with flowers and a sweet scent filled it.

The castle was dark as always, its towering frame casting long shadows that seemed to stretch into eternity.

But tonight, something new filled the air, a sweet, floral aroma that Orlok couldn’t ignore.

He followed the scent, his sharp senses guiding him through the halls.

At the end of his path, he found you in the garden.

The moonlight painted you silver as you knelt beside your beloved flowers, a small vial in your hands.

You didn’t notice him until he was close enough for you to feel his presence.

“My Love, what is this sweetness that lingers in the air? It clings to you like a second skin.”

You turned to look at him, holding up the small vial.

“I made a perfume oil. The flowers in my garden. They’re so lovely, I thought it would be a shame not to capture their scent.”

“You made this?” he asked, his long fingers pointing at the vial.

You nodded and suddenly became aware that what you did might not be a good thing.

“I mixed the oil with petals from the moonflowers, lavender, and a touch of night-blooming jasmine. It took some trial and error, but I think I’ve managed to make it good. Do you not like it?”

Orlok extended his palm, gesturing for the vial.

You handed it to him, and he brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply.

His eyes closed, and his lips parted slightly, as though the fragrance intoxicated him.

“This is… extraordinary. It is as though your essence has been bottled, My Dear. Sweet, delicate, yet absolutely irresistible.”

Your heart calmed and you laughed softly. “You’re flattering me.”

He opened his eyes, staring at you.

“No. You deserve every word and more. Show me, Dearest. Show me these flowers you’ve used to create such a masterpiece.”

You guided him to the garden, pointing out the flowers one by one.

"Explain it to me, My Love. How did you do such a thing?"

As you explained the process, Orlok listened closely.

“Brilliant. To create beauty from what others might overlook… You astonish me.”

“I wanted to do something to ease my mind. Even when I was young, my mother used to have a garden full of roses. I always loved the scent of flowers."

He took your hands in his.

“You, My Love always bring light to this darkness I call my home. And now, you bring this. An essence which only deepened my obsession.”

“Obsession?” you asked rather surprised, yet, deep down you always knew about it.

His lips curled into a faint smile.

“Yes. Obsession. Adoration. Call it what you will.” He raised your hands to his lips, brushing a kiss against your knuckles. “Every day, you remind me, we were made for one another.”

“And what of this renewed obsession? Will it last?”

Orlok leaned closer, he lifted your chin with his fingers, his cool breath ghosting over your skin as he spoke.

“It will endure as I endure, for I am bound to you in every way. Your scent, your presence, your love.”

His lips found yours, the kiss firm yet tender, filled with an intensity that made your knees weak.

When he pulled away, his eyes shined with devotion.

Together, you returned to the castle, the vial of perfume tucked safely in his pocket.

You knew he had no intention of giving it back. You knew him well enough, much like how he had possession of your pendant when he swore he only wanted to look at it.

Now this vile joined his growing collection of tokens.

Tokens of your love.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[iz-belljolie]

VALENTINE’S DAY WITH ART PLS

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ 𝚅𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎’𝚜 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙰𝚛𝚝 🏹+˚*˙✧💘

　ﾟ･｡･ ･ ｡･

(So sorry for the drag)

tw: contains smut (near the end)

You and Art went out to Applebee's for dinner, it felt nostalgic because that's where you went on your first date lol, since it was basically Art could afford at the time.

You spent your dinner giggling and admiring each other. Then, sharing a desert. It took some convincing but, you finally pushed Art to take a few bites of the Triple Chocolate Meltdown.

You laughed when there was some chocolate smeared above his lip, leaning over to wipe it off with your thumb, holding his head still with your free hand, smiling in his face, scolding him to stop laughing so you can wipe the chocolate off.

“Stop being silly Art” you murmured.

“I can’t help it, you make me silly.” He giggled.

“Enough” you chuckled, jokingly pushing his face before sitting back in your seat and sighing.

“Okay I’m stuffed.” He murmured. “Let’s pay and go?”

“If you’re the one paying, yup!” You smiled brightly at him.

He scoffed, but a grin was on his face.

He called the waiter over and asked for the check. 5 minutes later you both were out the door, your arms locked together and fingers intertwine, your hearts full of love and happiness.

As you got into the same jeep he’s had since college, you leaned over the console and kiss his cheek.

“I can’t wait to show you your surprise.” You whispered.

You could see a smile light up his face, his teeth shining through.

Not long later you guys are in the apartment you’ve been renting for the winter, taking off all your winter gear and sighing with relief when the heat of your cozy home surrounded your bodies.

“So what’s my surprise?” Art asked, his hands on your shoulder as he nuzzled against your neck, smiling.

“Patience my dear artie.” You grinned.

“Go sit on the couch like a good boy and I’ll be back soon.” You whispered seductively before walking towards your bedroom, looking behind your shoulder at him with a smirk.

A few minutes later you came back out in brand new lingerie you bought, a lacy bralette that was a light red with embroidered flowers on it, and a matching pair of panties.

You smiled shyly as he came into your view. He was sat on the couch, chewing on his lip before he looked up at you. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened in admiration.

“Jesus fucking Christ y/n” he gasped out.

All the blood that should be in his head rushed to his cock. He felt dizzy, in a good way.

You swayed gently on your feet, still smiling sweetly at him.

He stood up and you could immediately see his erection poking through his pants, begging to be freed.

“What did i do to deserve such a fucking angel?” He mumbled, almost as if he was talking to himself.

When he was hand length apart from you, his finger ran down your arm. He then grabbed your lower arm and brought your hand up and his kissed it.

“Can we make love tonight instead of fucking…I love you so much..mm so much..” he murmured, he’s eyes tearing up.

“Of course artie, let’s go to bed.” You whispered, kissing his forehead.

You both were now in bed, making out slowly and passionately, taking your time and letting yourselves feel. Feel the touch and slides of your tongues against each other. Your hands roaming each others bodies. Feeling the burning of love and arousal inside your bodies.

Eventually his hand is inside your panties and your hand in wrapped around his cock, which you pulled out of jeans…You were too eager to undress him.

His fingers clumsily rubbed your folds to collect your wetness and bring it up to your clit before rubbing circles and massaging it to give you as much pleasure as he can.

Your hand lazily stroked his dick up and down, stopping to rub the pre cum leaking from his slit over his tip. At some point you quickly spit it your hand for more lube.

You kept kissing sloppily as you pleasured each other. Moaning, gasping, and whimpering into each other mouths.

Art came first, his body seized and his eyes squeezed shut and his cum spurted out, the pleasure hit him so hard he was gasping for air. Once all his pleasure was ringed out, you hand released his pulsing cock.

Your orgasm rushed over you moments later, causing your legs to tense and your lips to part into a long moan. When you were over sensitive you grabbed his wrist to stop him from moving his hand.

As you too calmed down from the intense pleasure you lazily and calmly kissed each other. Lovingly and sweetly. Your hands stroking each others hair.

“I wanna have sex but m’ so tired…” he mumbled against your neck, pressing a long kiss against it.

Your huffed out a small laugh. “We can make love(you said in a mockingly voice) in the morning baby..” you replied.

“Ugh sounds good to me angel” he murmured, getting comfy with you in and bed, stripping off his clothes so he was naked.

“The set you got Is really pretty, maybe you can put it back on in the morning” he mumbled, yawning at the end of his sentence.

You smiled softly as you took off the lingerie and maneuvered yourself under the covers and helped Art get under there too.

“Mhm..i love you art” you whispered.

He curled up against you and rested his head on your chest, almost purring at the feeling of your skin against his.

“I love you.” He slurred sleepily, his eyes drooping until they fully closed, his arm curled around you.

You slipped your leg over his and put your hand on his back before closing your eyes and letting sleep take over you.

But just before you fell into a much needed sleep, you heard Art murmur, “best Valentine’s Day ever..”

You smiled sleepily and pet his back. “Yeah…” you yawned and let your body relax once more.

[bunny-jpeg]

you really thought you were a saint huh? it wasn't your fault, you just happened to be with someone in the program who shouldn't have been in there. simon riley was a bad man, but he showed promise. the prison threw him a bone and allowed him to be part of the pen pal program.

poor guy had no real connections on the outside. so of course you were a welcomed addition to his life. and maybe it was because you were too naive or simon was too cunning but, you really believed you were making a difference in this man's life!

too bad every letter you wrote often got stained with simon's cum after he masturbated to your pretty handwriting, delicate words and the little bit of perfume that lingered on the paper.

he told you all the pretty things you wanted to hear, about how he'd change for you, be the man that you deserved. that you made him better, more eager to right his wrongs. pages upon pages upon pages of promises.

but simon had no interest in that. why would he? he was a career criminal and good what he did, if it wasn't for graves he'd still be out on the streets. he was a ghost after all. he remembered the first photo he coaxed you into sending, you were even sweet enough to put it in a ziploc bag to keep it from getting ruined on its travel to him.

kept that little picture on his wall. he was eyeing it every day when he was in his cell. when he did his work-outs, when he was alone in his cell, especially when he was masturbating. within a few weeks he was asking for another because, the first one got a big ruined. his excuse was water damage in the cell, but the white stain across the printed image told a different story.

you were loyal to him, hung onto every word. you were so compassionate, loving and kind. you were an angel to his devil, you fixed him. you made everything better with kind words. simon liked the kind words, he also liked imaging breaking apart that little gag reflex of yours. re-shaping the virgin cunt to his liking. simon learned from a very young age that in order to keep something, he'd have to sink his teeth into it.

and you were easily between his jaws when you wrote, "you can put me down as a permanent address when you get out!" lucky, lucky simon, found himself a wife.

now that he was home. well, things were going to be a little different. his hand idly touched your middle while he stood behind you, you showed him around, but simon could only think about the future swell in your middle.

proper little wife. he didn't realize how small you were. fragile like butterfly wings. he didn't want to hurt his missus! no, no, never. but there would be some aches and pains in the next nine months. he didn't realize how easy it was to breed you. you let him have sex with you raw. he promised to pull out, but just like every other promise he made, it never really panned out.

"don't worry, lovie." he said after he finished inside of you, "we'll be a right family." his large scarred hand across your naked middle. promises. promises.

it wasn't your fault, it really wasn't! you tried to make a difference. but when they locked simon riley back up again for armed burglary, you were going to have his son only a few weeks later. <3