#SOB. never recovering from this one actually

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Wild

➾In Which: Your plane goes down in uncharted wilderness — but you don't have to be afraid. He will take care of you.

RATED X. MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY.

❥Song Mingi x fem reader

Star's Fairytale July

♡'･ᴗ･'♡genre: dark ¿romance?, smut

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: briefly proof read, a spin on "Tarzan", unspecified historical au, light gore, reader loses feeling in one of her legs from the crash + slowly recovers, slight communication barrier: mingi understands everything but has trouble speaking a lot, lowkey feral but soft mingi, size difference, implied chubby reader: has squishy thighs and boobs (we cheered !!), touch starved ming (i want to bite him-), is it stockholm syndrome if he didn't reallyyyy kidnap you, semi-forced cuddling, cleaning and eating animals (rip thumper), mingi has a heart of gold but grew up in the wilderness so is... strange ಠ_ಠ1 non-con scene: dry humping, groping, reader 'lets it' happen because she's afraid he'll make her leave, short scene (reader blacks it out). 1 consensual scene: outdoor, unprotected (they don't have any choice but boooo), teaching him how to kiss, him using what he learned on readers pussy (jjsjshdjan), spit as lube, soft to rough, overstim, titty fixation !!, virgin mingi goes FERAL, like actually feral like biting, growling, manhandling to get deeper, cumming multiple times, moaning like a bitch, trying to breed like his life depends on it feral, mingi only knows three words during sex "more, love, mine"

➯non-con disclaimer: non-con is NOT okay in real life. this is ONLY EVER acceptable in FICTIONAL settings (and even then it's fucked up)

˚⊱like a fairytale⊰˚@m00njinnie @tinyteezer @boxofhyunebuns @ninjakitty15 @binniesbabe @cocostar1117 @raicecakes-and-buldak @scheepsmans @cherrytaesan @motheraiya55 @cotton-candyclouds @tunafishyfishylike @daemyratwst ₊‧⁺stardust˖⋆ @sousydive @sunnysidesins @onyxmango @devilzliaison @ateezswonderland @queenofdumbfuckery @emilysecresy @kyomiingi @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @klllerwaifu @seonghwasslytherin @yoonglesbae

➯a/n: i luv me some feral-ness, and i luvvvvv me some minki <3

♡masterlist + navigation !♡

18+, MINORS WILL BE ABANDONED IN THE JUNGLE.

The smoke makes it hard for him to see.

Perched on a large branch a good bit above the ground, he watches. Observing, carefully.

The plane is stuck on the shore. Half in the shallow water, half not. The pilot must have took a chance at trying to land it on the uneven beach.

He doesn't hear anything besides the creaking metal, the lapping waves. Perhaps whoever was inside perished.

He likes that possibility the best. He doesn't like people — not that he has much experience with them. Those little ones he has had were less than pleasant.

They always treated him... different than the way they treated each other. And then, they tried to drag him back onto their boats.

They left him alone quickly when he started biting.

The wilderness has been his home ever since he was a boy. He'd never leave, and he'd never let anyone else take his home from him.

His head perks up as the door opens. A survivor? Great... He thinks how much trouble it will bring him when —

Out comes you. Sobbing as you fall to the sand. A piece of glass lodged in the side of your thigh and staining your dress with blood.

His interest caught, he climbs down.

You look much different than the other people he's had the misfortune of meeting.

Bare feet on the sand, he makes his way to the fallen plane.

You sound different, too. You're shaped differently. Wearing odd clothes.

He walks right up to you as you cry into your arms; not even noticing his presence until he grips your scalp and pulls your head up.

You scream in shock, grabbing his wrist as he tilts your head from side to side — inspecting you.

You stare at the man dumbfounded. Shock in every fiber of your being. First, your plane had a malfunction and was forced to crash land. Then, you awoke without feeling in one of your legs; looking around to find a piece of glass stuck in it and all of the men you were traveling with dead.

Now, a terrifyingly large and silent man is grabbing your head and looking at you with his eyebrows pressing together — confused.

He thinks you might be another species entirely until he remembers, very distantly, "woman?" His voice is deep and broken, like he doesn't use it a lot.

Frightened and beyond puzzled, you nod in his grasp.

He bites his lip, thinking for a moment. When you go to flinch away, he holds you tighter as he lifts his other hand to your face.

His touch is careful. But it's rough with callouses and awkward as he touches your cheek in a state somewhere between awe and bafflement.

He drops you without care, nodding; to himself you think, because he walks away before you can say anything. You fall back to the sand weakly as he climbs inside the plane — leaving you there with wide and teary eyes.

He comes back out a few minutes later, finding you just where he left you and just as in shock. He has a bag from inside the plane in his hands. He gathered what he wanted and left the rest to collect dust before high tide sweeps the plane further into the water.

"Hold." He says simply, shoving it into your stunned arms.

"W-" You have so many questions. But he doesn't give you the chance to ask any of them before he lifts you up like you weigh almost nothing, slinging you over his broad shoulder.

You groan as your stomach meets his body, clinging to the bag tightly and watching the plane grow further away as he walks away with you.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Eventually, you gave up on asking all of your questions when all you got was silence, one word answers, or grunts in response.

He keeps one arm over the back of your thighs, holding you tightly.

You're so soft compared to anything he's touched before.

He's thankful when you stop talking. He likes the sound of your voice, but he's not used to hearing anything that much. He can finally think.

His body reacted before he had the chance to think this over. Something deep in his brain told him to bring you back with him and he just did it. He wants to figure out why; but it's hard.

Your skin was really soft when he touched your face. It was warm. He liked it. He likes the warmth and the weight of your body as he carries you through the dense trees.

He squeezes your thigh curiously, a hum low in his throat.

Yes, he likes that.

He lowers you with more gentleness than he picked you up with, steadying you with a hand on your hip as your leg buckles under your weight; the other completely useless.

"Stay." He leans you against a tree, turning around and climbing up another with efficiency that makes your jaw drop a bit.

It drops even more as you follow his form, looking up to see what looks like a literal house in the tree.

It's clear he's been here a long time.

A rope ladder drops from the opening, and the strange man follows; climbing down it with something clutched in his teeth.

You, obviously, have a million more questions to ask. But you stay quiet. He seemed to have liked that better — and he's your only chance at survival.

He points to the ground, then to you. 'Sit', you assume. You slide against the rough bark until you sit with your legs sprawled in front of you. Watching him closely as he takes the blade and the large scrap of fabric from his mouth.

"I fix," he says while gesturing to your leg, the small piece of glass still lodged in it.

You swallow thickly before nodding. Theres no way in hell you can fix it yourself. Even though you can't feel it, you know you don't have the guts to pull the glass out yourself.

He slides your skirts up your claves, straddling the injured leg. He opens his mouth to say something before he changes him mind, only tutting his tongue. He wants to ask your name, what you are called. But he forgets the words for that and it makes him a bit frustrated. He doesn't want to keep calling you 'woman' when he thinks of you.

You want to tell him to be careful as he lifts the fabric over the glass to get it out of the way — but you decide against it. You don't even know how much he speaks, how much he knows. It seems like a good bit.

You finally drop the bag next to you and bundle up your skirts, holding them out of the way. Avoiding looking at the mess, you look at him instead while he examines the wound.

His shorts were once pants, cut at the thigh — for less restriction, you assume. His shirt is missing quite a few buttons and you suppose that's why he doesn't button it up. One of his wrists has homemade rope bracelets stacked on it. He has scars all over his body.

A long and rough one across his torso. One short and smooth across the front of his forearm. A little one below his eyebrow.

"What is your name?" You ask softly, and it gives him pause. "Do you have one?"

You talk to him like he understands — and he loves it. Because he does understand. That's what the others didn't get, where they went wrong. They assumed he didn't comprehend full sentences because he didn't use them.

It sounds foreign on his own tongue as he shares, for the first time in many, many years; his own name.

"Mingi."

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

The inside of Mingi's tree house is strangely put together, for being in the middle of literally nowhere on an uninhabited island.

He has a bed of moss covered with a military issued brown blanket. You kind of want to ask where he got that, but it seems obvious. From someone else who crash landed or came across the island.

He's quiet as he slowly lays you down on it; having carried you up the ladder as you clung to his neck. Your thigh is wrapped up tightly with the strip of fabric, your skirt cut to just above it. He throws the ripped and bloody bottom half of it into a corner, thinking he can clean it and use it for something else.

You're starting to get cold. Blood loss is catching up to you as your adrenaline levels lower because you start feeling safer and safer with the strange man. You know you shouldn't. He seems... well, you don't know.

He's unlike any man you've ever met. His silence unnerves you. His gaze is much too intense. He has zero sense of personal space.

But he's gentle, now at least. And he doesn't look at you like you're beneath him; as many men in society do.

He touches your cheek again as he hovers over you, crouching by the makeshift bed. Fingertips grazing your skin slowly. "Soft." He says lowly.

"Th-thank you?" You whisper, a bit frightened.

He nods, "I like." And he stands up like that isn't a strange thing to say, probably because he doesn't think it is, turning to some fruit hanging by one of the window-like openings.

You push yourself up on your elbows, watching him. "How long have you lived here?"

He has to take a second to think of the word, "ever."

"How?" You ask, astonished, and only get a shrug in response as he comes back to you.

He really is not much of talker, you've found out quickly.

Sitting next to you on the blanket, he pulls off a piece of dried fruit and offers it to you. When you only look at it, slightly suspicious, he shoves it into your hand. "Eat."

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

When the sun sets, you've barely been holding your eyes open for the past few hours.

He hasn't shown any intention of hurting you, but your mind still yells to stay alert because he's a stranger — an incredibly strange and strong stranger, at that.

"Mingi."

He looks over to you quickly from his place on the floor; where he braids some plant material together into a rope. Almost like he forgot you were there, but he didn't. He's just so very unused to hearing someone speak; let alone hearing his name.

"Do you sleep at night? When it's dark?" It seems like a stupid question, but you genuinely don't know. He doesn't seem tired at all. Obviously, he has to sleep. He's human. But when is a different question.

He nods, tilts his head.

"Soon?" You stifle a yawn, but he catches it. If he sleeps while you do, maybe it's less chance he can hurt you. That's what your logic tells you.

"No," he turns back to the rope and keeps braiding. Sleeping while someone new is around is practically asking for trouble, that's what his logic tells him. He'll wait until you fall asleep.

You let out a sigh as you rest your head on your arm, rolling onto your side to face him. Your leg is starting to tingle, which you suppose is good news. At least you're feeling something.

"Thank you," you whisper, "for saving me." He grunts softly in response.

No matter how hard you try to keep your eyes open, they start falling shut for longer and longer until sleep eventually takes you.

When he hears your even, quiet breathing, he looks over his shoulder. Dropping the rope he was working on, he quickly slides off his open shirt and climbs over you. He should sleep in a branch, on the floor at the very least — but he likes his little warm corner.

And you've made it even warmer.

He likes it.

He likes you.

Scooting closer, laying behind you on his side, mirroring you; he follows his instincts and slowly slides his arm under your head, replacing yours. A gentle sigh leaves you in your sleep as you nuzzle against the warmth of his arm.

Yes. He's definitely decided. He likes you.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

A week goes by.

You learn very little about the man who's taking care of you.

You know he is intelligent, maybe not socially aware; but he knows how to tend to wounds using the Earth. In fact — he knows how to do a lot with the Earth. How to make tools, rope, traps, how to fish and hunt, he even uses agriculture to his advantage; has a small garden you can see from one of the openings in the suspended hut.

That's where you are now. Sitting on the ledge with your legs dangling, kicking them slowly to get some sort of exercise, watching Mingi tend to his plants.

You still can't hold all of your weight on your bad leg. The feeling in it comes and goes. You weren't shocked when he all but banned you from leaving the small tree house — only shaking his head and saying "no" whenever you asked about helping him below. You suppose it's fair. You'd probably be more trouble than you'd be help.

He does let you do some things. After you said you felt guilty for being so reliant on him. You're allowed to scrub and hang both of your clothes with the buckets of water he brings up.

You learned, or rather; he taught you, how to skin a few different animals. The gutting of them still makes you uneasy, so he takes over with that. You're waiting for him to do so now so you can help him cook it over the scavenged pot he lights a fire in almost every day. You rinsed your hands clean of the rabbits blood and limped your way over to the window.

Leaning your head against the wood, you sigh.

You don't think you'll ever go home. You're starting to come to terms, realizing the fact that this is most likely your home now.

It's not all so bad.

Mingi is strange. He's a bit scary at times, when he comes up the ladder breathing heavily with blood dripping down his arms. He still acts like he has no clue what personal space is — even though you've explained it a fair few times. And you know he understands everything you say.

At night, starting the second one, he asks; or rather tells you softly to, "tell me things."

You told him of your home, your hobby's, your family, and friends. About technology and some agriculture things he might be able to make use of.

He hums, or simply breathes differently in response most of the time. If you really peek his interest, he asks, "more." It's usually when you talk about yourself or about things he can make use of.

"(Y/n)." He speaks from below you, snapping you from your thoughts. "Bucket." He says while tapping the rope that leads up to the opening you're seated on.

"Oh, yes," you nod, "sorry." Leaning back with a groan, you get the two wooden buckets, carefully setting the one with the dirtied water in your lap and tying the knot he showed you onto the handle. "Coming down." You lower it with the pulley system, sill in awe of his ingenuity with such limited resources.

He takes them everyday and dumps them away from his area, so as not to attract predators to the smell of blood — at least, that's what you assume. Because getting that detailed information out of him would be near impossible with the way he speaks.

He takes whatever animal as well and leaves the guts he decides not to use in one way or another.

"Be back soon," you call out as he starts walking away, getting a small look over his shoulder as an answer.

You make life a little bit better. He enjoys having you here with him, even if most of the time is spent in silence — he doesn't mind, that's what he likes anyway. But he's found that he likes sharing it with you.

He's also grown fond of physical touch. Not you touching him, not just yet. That still makes him flinch if you move too fast.

But him touching you? He can't get enough. Over the past week, he's grown more brave with it. At first, the first day after he pulled you from the wreckage, it was only to change the makeshift bandage on your wound. That night, he put his hand on your waist as he laid down behind you. He liked squeezing it.

The morning after, he helped you stand and try to walk. You didn't get very far — but he kept his hands on your hips as you braced yourself on the wall. That night, he drug you to lay with your back to his chest.

He's gotten braver and bolder. It makes you a bit uncomfortable, like he might try to take advantage of your weakened state; but you don't even know if he knows what sex is.

He does. Well — not really. But he's woken up with hard-ons before and he knows how to take care of them.

You do have him thinking, though. What it might feel like to put himself between your cushiony thighs or put his face in your chest.

He decides he'll try tonight as he climbs up the ladder and finds you changing into the large shirt he's given you to wear at night. He swallows, his throat suddenly dry. Something warm and needy flicking to life in his gut.

He clears his throat, setting the bucket with the rabbit in it down.

"Thank you." You say that a lot, he's realized. You don't want him to throw you to the wilderness if he suddenly deems you too much trouble; you make your gratitude very clear. That's another thing he likes about you.

Even injured and in an environment so different from what you're used to, you try to pull your weight and make yourself as useful as you can.

He only nods, headed to the line of clothes you hung up earlier that day and getting the softer pair of shorts he has to his name. He doesn't bother with modesty; so you turn around as he strips himself and stretches his arms above his head. Busying yourself with skewering the meat.

The night continues like the last seven had. He lights the small bundle of firewood in the metal pot and sits across from you, cooking some for you and handing it over before he does the same for himself. He helps you stand and walk from wall to wall until your leg gives out and he carries you to the moss bed.

Now is usually the part where he asks for you to tell him things until you're too tired to continue.

But that's not what happens tonight.

He usually helps you to lay on your side and gets behind you.

Not tonight.

Tonight, he lays you on your back and straddles your hips. He touches your cheek. With just his fingertips, at first. Then he cradles your face in his palm and hums contentedly as your warmth seeps into him.

"What are you doing?" You ask shakily as he lowers himself a bit, still holding your cheek as he presses his face to your chest.

"Soft." He mumbles, cuddling his face closer. He likes them — he likes them a lot. His cock is twitching in his shorts.

You stay completely still underneath him. Not scared of him, exactly. But scared of what he might do if you deny him the affection- the intimacy he craves.

You'd never survive a day without him.

So you bite your lip as humiliation creeps up while he gives an experimental roll of his hips. And he moans. Low and quiet; just over the insects chirping outside.

He slides his hand lower, tracing your neck softly before it reaches your breast and he gives it a squeeze. He moans louder, moves harsher against you.

You let out a shaky breath as you close your eyes tightly, trying to disappear from your own skin as your savior gropes you.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Another week goes by.

If Mingi notices you're more uncomfortable with his touches the first three days, he doesn't say anything. He keeps them the same as before that night. Like it never even happened — but he had clearly enjoyed himself. Once or twice, you've caught him staring at your chest.

Day four is when you start getting more relaxed around him again. He brings you flowers that day. Yellow petals and bright green stems. Awkwardly holds them out to you, points between you and them, and says, "you." They remind him of you.

Five and six, or rather; twelve and thirteen, pass without incident.

It's on day seven of the second week he picks you up and says, "with me." He helps you wrap your legs around him and you hold on tightly as he climbs down the ladder. You know better than to question him.

You just enjoy the change of scenery, hugging onto his back until he stops.

Your jaw drops as you look at the large waterhole. It's crystal clear, you can see all of the rocks at the bottom, the little tassels of water grass and the small fish swimming through it.

"Swim?" He looks over his shoulder, something like a smile on his lips as he sees the joy in your eyes.

"Yeah- yes! Yes!" You hug onto him tighter, smiling as well. "Thank you for bringing me here, Mingi."

His name still sounds odd to hear out loud, but he thinks he likes the way you say it.

He slowly lowers you from his back, steadying you as your leg trembles a bit. "Water-" He groans, tilting his head as he unwraps your healing wound, "good."

"I think so too," you nod. He definitely likes that about you. You still don't shorten your sentences or talk to him like he can't understand. "It will be good to move it around without pressure on it."

Exactly what he was thinking, although he could never express it as elegantly as you. His lips do that thing they've been doing lately — turning up in the corners.

You decide against going fully nude, but he has no qualms about stripping bare before diving into the water.

In just your underwear, you slowly lower yourself to sit on the edge before pushing off and submerging yourself.

It feels wonderful. Beyond wonderful — it feels magical. You and Mingi both freshened up each day with clean water and fabric scraps, but this is entirely different. Like your soul is being cleansed and lightened of its burdens as the water surrounds you.

You push your hair out of your face as you come back up, laughing happily.

Mingi hasn't heard that sound from you before, but he enjoys it nonetheless. It makes him feel warm.

"Happy?" He hums curiously as he swims, going back and forth the length of the water slowly.

"Very." You reply quickly, moving to copy his movements.

He definitely has more stamina than you, but he slows himself down a bit to match your pace as you try to keep up.

And you're both content to swim back and forth in silence for a while, it must be at least thirty minutes later when you finally give in to your muscles begging for mercy. You haven't moved this much since before your plane crashed.

You fold your arms over one another on the edge of the water, breathing a bit heavily as you catch your breath.

Mingi comes up beside you, no worse for wear; and looks at you for a moment before copying your pose. He rests his chin on his arms and looks out into the wilderness with you. "Happy." He says lowly.

You turn your head, resting it on your arms as you peer over at him. "You are?" You search for clarification, kicking your legs slowly.

He nods, moving again to mirror you. "Was... lonely. But, people before; no good." He reaches over and touches your cheek, "you good."

You only smile in response. It's the most words you've ever heard him say in one day it feels like, let alone one 'sentence'.

Pushing yourself a bit closer, you slowly lift your hand. And he doesn't flinch like he normally might. He leans into your touch as you cradle his cheek, sighing softly. "Like you."

"I like you too," you move carefully, until your hip brushes against his side under the water. "Do you know... what a kiss is?"

"Kiss?" He repeats you with a small raise of his eyebrows.

"Yeah, kiss," you lean forward. His eyes are locked on yours, watching you intently as you lift yourself up a bit to be level with his face. "For affection, when you like something," you press your lips to his cheek softly, "you do that."

He cranes his neck, delicately placing his lips against your cheek for a moment longer than you did to him. He has a soft blush across his tanned cheeks when he pulls back.

"Nice, right?" You say with a bit of a giggle, seeing the man who literally climbs trees and hunts in the woods with bare feet get flustered at something as simple as a cheek kiss.

"Nice," he mimics you with a smile; one undeniable. He has a nice smile, you realize. Warm like the sunshine that beams down on the cool water you're in.

"It feels nice," you readjusted yourself, fidgeting a bit shyly yourself, "to kiss in other ways too."

He leans closer, "show." Show him. Effective immediately, you have to show him.

"Oh, I don't know-" You're getting cold feet. You want to kiss him for real, but what if that changes things? You know it realistically shouldn't, he doesn't know how intimate kissing on the lips can be. He doesn't know the implications of it.

"Please?"

He catches you off guard with that. He never asks for things. Always tells or gestures. But now, his eyes are soft and asking.

"O-okay," you nod before lifting yourself up to sit on the ledge. He watches maybe too closely as the water runs down your chest. "Close your eyes."

He hesitates, only for a moment, before he does so.

He flinches when you cup his jaw, but he quickly relaxes into your touch as you pull him forward. And he absolutely melts when he feels your lips against his own — the touch feathery light.

It's like a flip switches in his brain, something instinctual. And all he ever does is listen to his instincts; so he follows his bodies lead and presses his lips to yours harder as he moves to slot himself between your knees.

Holding himself up with his hands on either side of your thighs, he follows your slow movements. His heart starts racing. His skin feels like it's tingling under your touch.

"Open your mouth," you whisper heavily against his lips; having him practically chasing your mouth as you pull back to do so.

And if he thought he liked kissing before — he has no doubt about it now, as you slip your tongue into his mouth.

He just about loses what's left of his mind when you press it against his.

He has to pull away, panting heavily and blushing deeply. "Like that." Comes out a moan. His cock twitches as he runs his eyes over your body slowly, watching the rise and fall of your chest.

"You do?" His answer to your question is to jump out of the water and yank you to your feet.

He has to bend down to kiss you again, copying your actions and cupping your cheeks as he moves against you.

He definitely does like it.

His tongue is a lot more adventurous than yours was. More wild. Licking the roof of your mouth and tracing your teeth and touching every single inch he can possibly reach. You would never think this was his second kiss.

To think he's practically devouring your mouth and you only taught him what a kiss is a few minutes ago.

His hands slide down your neck as he leans back, resting over your chest while he looks at you closely; taking in every part of you he can. "W-" He stutters, for the first time ever. For the first time ever — he's rendered completely speechless.

"You're really good at that," your panted words make him twitch again. When you stumble, he grabs your hip to steady you.

One hand on your hip, the other engulfing your breast; he helps you lower onto the ground, eyes never leaving yours. He goes even further than helping you sit, and pushes you to lay back. Hovering over you, "more than like. Word?"

"More than like?" You shiver under his intense gaze, your heart about to burst with the ferocity with which it beats. "Love, maybe?"

"Love," he nods quickly, straddling your thighs.

"You love me?" You question with butterflies blossoming in your stomach.

He nods, shakes his head, then nods again, then he groans frustratedly and slams his mouth against yours more passionately as he slides his hands all over your body. He goes as far to nip your bottom lip before he pulls back.

"You are love." His clarification makes little sense, but it makes all the sense in the world at the same time.

He doesn't remember what love feels like. The memories of everyone he knew faded with time. But something about you — your softness, your gratitude, the color of your eyes in the sunlight, your willingness to learn how to help, the determination when you hold yourself up on your injured leg to try and push yourself — he can't help but feel... warmth.

Blooming in his chest whenever he looks at you, when he thinks of you. He doesn't love you, he thinks. It's more than that. You are love because you're the only thing he can think of and start smiling, the only thing that feels so gentle and sweet.

You feel like something he never wants to let go of.

If a rescue party ever did come for you, he'd fight them off tooth and nail. Because you make his life better somehow. He isn't just surviving anymore. He's living. And he won't go back.

"You," he points to your heart, then to his, "here."

He does love you. He wants you to stay with him. He welcomes you into his home, his wilderness. Nobody else. Only you — and only ever you; because he is not willing to risk any other humans coming near you.

"Thank you, Mingi," you smile, shyly, at his affectionate gesture. "I feel the same way."

He leans back over you and presses his forehead to yours, his eyes asking silently; 'really?'

"Yes," you nod, slowly wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You give him a softer kiss, barely grazing his lips and it drives him crazy. He likes — he loves how soft you are.

He squeezes your breasts in his palms, leading you to let out a soft moan against his lips. At the sound; he finds that he's officially hard. His member leaking against your leg.

He crawls down, pushing you back down by your shoulders when you go to sit up. "No." Is all he says before he starts leaving sloppy and heated kisses all over your chest.

"Oh-" You gasp quietly, melting between him and the Earth.

He's so unabashed about what he wants. Always, but especially now; you come to realize. He does whatever his brain tells him to do to get a taste of oxytocin. It's primal. The way he grabs and squishes your body like he's playing with it, like he's exploring how it feels — because he is. The way he pauses at your hardened nipple before giving it an experimental kitten lick.

And when you moan a bit louder, arching into him; he decides that definitely gives him what he's looking for. You give him what he's looking for.

He wraps a hand around his length, groaning lowly as he gives your other nipple a lick. Then he nuzzles his face between them while moving his fist along his cock. "Soft..."

When his free hand slides down your waist and meets the fabric of your panties, he realized there's one part of you he's never even seen. Putting two and two together — how you've been so protective and shy about it, and how it's between your legs like his cock is between his; he smiles. It must be your center of pleasure.

He's pulling your underwear down before you know what's what. "Mingi-" You squeal in shock, going to put your hands over your soaked cunt when he grabs your wrists and pouts as you press your thighs together. An honest to goodness pout.

He wants to say a lot of things right now. Like please let him touch you. Please let him feel how soft you are in comparison to him. Show him how to make you feel good. But he's blanking on his words, only grunting as he puts your hands back on the ground.

"It's..." You feel heat burning your face, all the way down your neck, "sensitive."

He doesn't say anything, but the look in his eyes says he'll be gentle as he touches; as he explores. You look away as you spread your legs, breathing a bit heavily.

And he wastes no time, sitting on his knees between your legs and bringing his fingertips to graze your cunt. So gentle it makes you twitch. He traces down your lips, watching closely. When he notices your wet slit, that's where his fingers go.

Earning himself another timid moan from you urges him on. He lets out one of his own as he feels just how warm and wet you are, his eyebrows pinching together as he touches you carefully. He, again, quickly decides he likes it.

If he likes it — he should give it a kiss. That's what his brain tells him.

You're a bit confused, a little disappointed as his touch leaves you. But by the time you're looking at him, he's already bent down and giving your cunt a soft kiss.

"Mmf-" You muffle yourself with a hand over your mouth, hips twitching.

He looks up, smiling. That must feel good, you like kissing; and you must really like it down here.

So he wastes no time diving in and kissing your wetness. Just as messy and raw with primal intent as he had explored your mouth; he does the same between your legs. Licking up and down and feeling everything he can. The noises you're making tell him he must be doing a great job, because even with your hand over your mouth embarrassedly; your moans sound out loud enough for him to hear them and drink them up like he's dying of thirst.

His tongue goes a little bit lower and he finds your hole, slipping inside curiously and making you cry out. He pulls back with wide eyes, his cock twitching for attention.

It was even hotter than the rest of you, even softer...

He lays back over you quickly, his chest crushing you to the ground as he looks deep into your eyes. "In."

"W-what?" You stutter, dizzy from his intense make out session with your cunt. Grabbing onto his biceps, you try to make sense of what he says.

"Want... inside you."

Now your eyes widen. He's a big guy, and that doesn't stop at his cock. You doubt he'd understand if you told him you needed to be stretched first. And by the look in his eyes, he probably wouldn't be able to be patient enough to do so anyway.

"You have to be gentle with me," you say slowly, squeezing his arms, "okay? Put- you can put it in, but you have to go slow."

He nods fast, looking down and gripping the base of his length while holding himself up above you; just enough to have room for you both to look down between your bodies and watch as he lines himself up with you.

He gulps as he slides his tip along your slit, pressing forward as he meets your entrance. You bit your lip, breathing slowly as he pushes forward. You almost cry when his cockhead finally slips all the way in, telling him in a wobbly voice, "wait! Wait a second!"

He groans, fisting his shaft while you clench around his tip. He wants to go all the way in. He needs to. He needs to. He needs to feel your snug heat all around him or he'll cry.

Willing yourself to relax, you let out a shaky breath and look up at the sky as he continues to look down at the way your pussy lips are stretched around just the very tip of his cock. "Slow, please, Mingi."

His name leaving your tongue makes him shudder, a tingle running along his spine. He starts inching forward immediately. Grabbing onto your shoulder tightly to ground himself so he doesn't just slam into you, he watches as you slowly encase his entire length.

He all but collapses on top of you when he bottoms out, pinning you to the ground. You bury your face in his shoulder, panting moans raising goosebumps on his skin. Your walls flutter and twitch as they try to mold around him. Both of you are clinging to each other tightly; his hands gripping your shoulders and your arms wrapped back around him.

"Love," he whines as you clench around him, his fingers twitching to hold you tighter.

"You feel so good..." You whimper back as you rub down his back tenderly. "Do you... you want to move?"

His response is immediate, grinding his hips into yours and moaning loudly; louder than you. He bites his lip, letting go of your shoulders and placing his hands by either side of your head to hold himself up.

His eyes flick from your face to your cunt wildly, and he looks like he's going to ask something — but he gets to annoyed trying to think of any words at all as your gummy walls cling to him. He only growls, pulling his hips back an inch before thrusting back into you with a testing, delicate pace.

And when you moan as he bottoms out again — all hell breaks loose onto your cunt.

"Fuck!" You scream as he starts pounding into you, your back arching from the sudden onslaught. He's hitting every spot inside of you that makes you see dots of white when you squeeze your eyes shut; tickling your brain with the flood of pleasure.

He leans down, his face in your neck; nuzzling you softly in a stark contrast to how he slams his hips against yours. "L-love." He says again.

You can't tell if he's saying he loves how it feels, or if he's calling you 'Love'. It seems like the latter as he moans it yet again, his eyes rolling back into his head as his hips stutter.

He pauses, very briefly, panting heavily into your neck. Before you can even fully register that he's came — his hot release making you shiver with ecstasy as it pools inside of you — he groans, "more."

And his pace returns, harsher than before. More animalistic. Downright brutal as he fucks himself into your cum-slick pussy.

Lowering himself onto his forearms, he latches onto your parted mouth as you moan and gasp uncontrollably; doing just the same as he pounds you into the ground.

Your moans mix together, spit as well as he flicks his tongue against yours lewdly — showing just how much he likes you.

Your cunt feels like heaven on Earth as he buries himself into it repeatedly. He never wants to leave. He never wants you to leave.

As he takes you on the ground like an animal, your moans filling his ears and your eyes dizzy as he pulls away from your lips to look at you — a word comes to mind.

"Mine." He moans it deeply, gripping you tightly and having his eyes nearly roll back again as he squeezes your soft sides.

And your eyes do roll back, yelling out and grabbing his arms tightly as your orgasm suddenly washes over you. Feeling like the pure ecstasy is going to snap you in half somehow as you tremble.

Already messy with his cum, his cock nearly slips out with your wave of arousal and your intense clenching. When he realizes, he growls with frustration — no way in hell is he about to let that happen. He slams all the way into you and holds you still by your hips as you twitch below him; not allowing you to go anywhere.

His cock rests right against your g-spot. It drives you to tears in your post orgasmic sensitivity, makes you dig your nails into his arms for a sense of stability.

"More," he whines as he leans down and nuzzles your chest, mouthing at it more gently as he hears your sniffling. He forces himself to stay still within you and placates himself by wrapping his lips around your nipple. Having no idea that it's making your jaw drop as he twirls his tongue around it.

"Oh, Mingi~"

At the sound of your saccharine voice, dripping with lust, his hips gain a mind of their own again; making you both moan. Your overstimulated cunt clenching around him only makes him go harder. Makes him try to get deeper, groaning when he can't.

His body acts before he knows it, before you know it — and he's pulling up your legs and crushing them to your chest as you whimper at the sudden stretch in your muscles before he knocks away any and all thoughts when he slams his hips into you again. He touches deeper than anything ever has.

He pins your legs to your body as he lays over them, your calves over his shoulders. The sight of it — of him makes you cum all over again. And he's right behind you; spilling his cum even deeper than the first time and satisfying something deep in his soul.

He grinds against you, refusing to stay still but refusing to pull out even a fraction of an inch out while he fills you up. A growl gets stuck low in his throat, and he licks his lips before leaning his head down quickly and biting you.

Like an actual fucking animal, he buries his teeth into your shoulder as he keeps you trapped below him; moaning as you squeal and grab at him. Your hips try fruitlessly to move away, confused by the sudden rush of pain mixing with the body wracking pleasure.

He licks the fresh bite, making you shiver. He didn't break skin — just barely sparred you from it. The deep indentations of his teeth on your skin makes him grin.

Kissing it softly, his pace returns once more; making you wail. "Fuck, Mingi!" And maybe you should learn that saying his name only makes him more excited. But how can you take in any sort of information when he's pounding so deep inside of you that he's practically in your guts?

He rests his head in the crook of your neck, his jaw agape and moans spilling out each time he bullies his cock into you. "Love," he gasps, "more."

How in the world it's even possible for someone to have this much stamina, you can't wrap your head around it. He was a virgin not fifteen minutes ago — and now he's ready to cum for a third time inside of you.

"More," you mimic him with a heavy breath, struggling to get enough air as he keeps you folded up with almost all of his weight on top of you.

He lets out a particularly loud moan as you reach and wrap your hands in his hair gently; holding his head to your neck. Your nails scrape against his scalp, albeit very lightly, and he chokes on his own breath as he slams into his peak.

His hands go everywhere, unsure of what he wants to grab onto as his brain starts feeling the effects of all of his previous orgasms. They land on your breasts and he almost whimpers, squeezing and kneading them in his palms to distract himself from the ache in his cock. "Mine," he stutters as he finally stills above you.

He only moves enough to let your legs fall back down, trembling and heavy. He lays on top of you while he pants; his breaths coming as hot puffs against your skin as he keeps his head buried in your neck. His hands between you as he continues to play with your chest while you both float back down to Earth.

You groan softly, wrapping your arms around his head and hugging him close. "Mine."

· · ─ ·WILD· ─ · ·

[lagunaseca2013]

What do you thing Marc’s reaction is when he finds out Vale is pregnant in the Valpreg universe? Does he think Vale purposefully hid it from him?

well hello anon! I thiiiink this is about reverse omegaverse bc that’s the only mpreg scenario where vale is far along enough to warrant any anger for not telling marc. it’s not his fault, it was cryptic!

well for one, I think he handles it better than vale does, but that's for a variety of reasons. I don’t think he immediately jumps to vale hiding it as a conclusion bc he knows vale well enough to know there’s no way in hell he would’ve been racing if he’d known about it/he would’ve aborted that thang given the chance. imo marc probably does want kids and is very good with them but he's also 1) 22 years old and 2) not the one who has to carry and birth the baby. so on one hand it's a lot easier for him to be happy about. but on the other hand, vale is totally freaking out bc. he feels too young to have a baby. nevermind the fact that marc is for all intents and purposes, a young adult.

let’s not think about how 36 is already classified as a geriatric pregnancy. vale’s already suicidal enough just thinking about how long he’s been racing with this thing inside of him, plus the fact that he’s literally been on full strength suppressants this whole time. for his sake let’s say he hasn’t really been drinking all season with the exception of podium champagne and even that’s only a few sips. he’s terrified that he’s harmed the baby in some way.

what was the question? right, marc! I think it probably doesn't register as quite as big a deal as it should for marc for a while. he loves vale, he wants to be vale's alpha, however one-sided, and the season has been rough for sure, but enough of their history hasn't quite played out yet so he really does think they can work through this. also the pregnancy reveal AT sepang definitely like took some of the initial shock and hurt away from the incident bc hello new thing to focus on that isn't his omega publicly hating him and trying to knock him over mid-race. girl go talk to someone about this PLEASE.

vale is terrified and nearly catatonic w shock so directly after the medical checkup meltdown marc goes into alpha dealing with it mode and somehow gets them out of there and to his motorhome. he feels kinda bad bc vale probably wants to go to his motorhome where his nest is but that would involve confronting uccio and he's clearly not ready for that yet. (marc also does not want to see uccio, for obvious reasons……..) do they communicate any of this to each other? first of all marc just kind of senses that vale's pregnant but knows having the conversation there will end in catastrophe, so no! he just kind of assumes correctly w the added bonus of being right and vale realllly needing marc's scent right now. marc’s scent is the only thing bringing him any real comfort in the moment……..I wonder why……..

also pleaseeee let's take a moment to imagine the field day the press are having. this weekend alone vale has 1) dragged marc's name through the gravel, 2) let's say, uh, allegedly tried to kick marc off his bike mid race, 3) had some kind of scare in the medical building and cleared the entire place out so there's like doctors and nurses just hovering around outside looking concerned, 4) now left the medical building being physically shielded from the cameras by (checks notes) MARC! world's strangest series of headlines published that day. I don't even want to know what they were saying on twitter.

okay, now we've officially reached a secondary location. marc deposits vale on his bed and like runs around finding him clothes and blankets and boiling water for tea even though he knows vale probably won't even drink it. vale is like numbly dressing himself and half-heartedly arranging the blankets on the bed, shoving his face in marc's pillow bc he's already lost the battle w himself of pretending not to need it. marc hands him a cup of tea so now they're staring at each other sitting in marc's bed. and vale is holding a cup of tea.

basically marc tries to be like, the baby........and vale is in pure denial and also self-preservation mode so he's like what baby I don't know what you're talking about. so marc has to play dirty (vale is always forcing him to ride play dirty) and grab vale's hand and put it on his throat, vale’s trembling fingers brushing the raised bumps of his own bite. and marc is like vale I can feel you, I can feel you reaching out to me. I know you've been needing me. I know you have been stopping yourself, and I can feel it, I can feel our baby. our baby is there too. and then vale breaks down spectacularly and is like marc, amore, I swear I did not know—I have been racing, what if I hurt the baby—our baby.

now marc is young and also doesn’t have any of the answers here but he knows vale is scared out of his mind and that no matter what he’s determined to be there for him through all of it. it’s kind of unclear to both of them just how pregnant vale actually is but vale saw the ultrasound and that thing was looking hella fully formed, and marc has been feeling a growing presence through the bond for a while now so, both of them are separately confident that it’s too late for an abortion lmao. they also both have a lot of people to answer to, marc is only keeping alex and his dad away from his motorhome by telling them that he and vale are “handling the situation privately,” which is technically true bc no one knows what the situation is. also iirc I said that vale gave uccio his phone to deal with so let’s keep it that way.

okay there’s two weeks between sepang and valencia that year, right? I don’t really know like the details of how motogp riders live or in particular how they lived ten years ago but I’m going to pretend they’re somehow able to get a private flight out of malaysia that night, don’t ask me the details. marc still lives w his parents and shares a bunk bed w his baby brother so. tavullia it is!

marc hasnt been back to vale’s house since the crazy one sided mating incident. they get there at some ungodly hour and are like both numb and in their heads not really talking just sensing each other (this is the most calm marc’s instincts have been for almost a year at this point) and they’re finally going to bed when vale just kind of leads marc to his nest, wordlessly gets in. marc breathes in sharply, stunned, because vale’s nest is ninety percent marc’s clothes. it’s almost funny bc the majority of what vale had managed to steal is honda or mm93 merch from their sporadic hookups (before vale cut it off completely) so the entire bed is covered in like neon orange and red.

he gets in the bed and curls around vale, giant hand on vale’s stomach. vale unclenches for the first time in months and just silently starts crying into marc’s neck (scent gland) he is soooo scared. they have to schedule an obgyn appointment, they have to figure out something to tell yamaha because there’s no way in hell vale is going to finish the season pregnant. marc also has to figure out a way to convince vale to let him drop out of the championship to be there for him and the baby.

(when they eventually have that conversation vale is hysterically angry about it due to a combination of pregnancy hormones and projecting and being terrified that marc will resent him for it in the long run) sure vale, marc is going to resent you more for his own choice to drop out of the championship that he's already lost than for you one-sided bonding him and not letting him take care of you for months when you were pregnant. likely story.

ummmm okay this truly got away from me. the short answer is vale does his very best to keep marc out of it but he can’t actually deny what marc can literally feel through the bond so. there’s that. how do yamaha and honda and the sport as a whole and their families take it? well, that’s a whole other story……..

[a-wins-a-win]

i fear that b;apo in indianapolis 2008 may well be my new favourite…

York Theater b;apo i still adore you but the indianapolis production is making CHOICES and I’m going FERAL /pos

[darlingdaisyfarm]

i entered tumblr half crying and now im absolutely howling. this is so canon i cant even put my thoughts together, it's so sad

my headcanon for when stan dies is that his only request is for dipper and mabel to commit massive credit card fraud using his name before anyone else know he's dead

“have a shopping spree courtesy of your old grunkle! that way i can cheat those bastards one last time :) - love stan”

yeah it's horrible and nothing is ever going to be the same but waddles gets his own hoverchair + popcorn maker, and they laugh for the first time since finding out

[a-hermit-pining]

LADS Men React a Picture of You with Another guy

Request: Hii!! I love your writing so so much (pls never stop)!!! How do you think the lads men would react to the following scenario: mc makes one of her girl friends dress like a guy and post that on her story/moments (to ward off an annoying co-worker, like what Caleb did in uni, but mc didnt want to bother the guys with this request so she asked Tara or another one of her girl friends). The picture, though, is convincing enough to make even the lads men question if she actually does have a partner and who tf is he. I think Xavier would absolutely malfunction since they are also neighbours lol

AN: I am taking a break from the ship event to gather some inspiration. But this was super fun to write. Thank you for sending in such an amazing idea.

Warning: Potential Spoilers. Be Mindful 👺

Pairing: Lads boys x fem reader

Genre: fluff and angst

(I do not own these characters)

Summary: Waking up after an amazing girls' night, you and Tara spent the morning taking silly photos, making all kinds of concerning faces, until inspiration struck.

"Wait, wait, hold on," Tara grinned, pushing her short hair back. "What if—"

Moments later, you were both giggling uncontrollably, staging fake hard launch photos in your bed. The blurry, cozy results? Surprisingly convincing.

"Oh, this is gonna blow up at work."

Tara rested her chin on your neck, wrapping an arm around you for the final shot. The picture was better than you imagined, so naturally, you posted it to your story before the two of you rushed to get ready for work.

And just like that, your social media went up in flames.

Rafayel:

623 missed calls. 200 texts. 82 more missed calls.

All hours after your post.

Who is he? Why are you in bed with him? Is he your boyfriend? What is his name?

You barely have time to breathe after your meeting before the onslaught of texts floods in. Even the comment section of your post hasn’t been spared.

Thomas is already on the case. Rafayel is whining, sobbing, crying and absolutely not afraid to play dirty to get you back.

He's already planned a hundred ways to nip this budding romance at the root.

He thinks he has the upper hand, feels kinda smug about it too.

Still… there’s a twinge of heartbreak. A little ache for having to wait longer for you, for the idea that you might have chosen someone else. But if nothing else, Rafayel is persistent.

So, of course, he’s already forgiven you.

But don’t think, even for a second, that he won’t complain about it.

He’s still mulling over it, dramatically painting all his canvases black, getting ready for his villain arc, when you finally call him back.

"A prank?"

He is indignant.

He cried over a prank.

All that effort… for nothing.

"IT’S BEEN 800 YEARS. JELLYFISH ARE WALKING. NAKED SEA TURTLES ARE CLIMBING TREES. SHARKS ARE EATING GRASS—FOR FREE. "

AND RAFAYEL?

RAFAYEL CRIED OVER A PRANK.

HE WENT FULL VILLAIN ARC FOR A LIE.

HIS CANVASES ARE BLACK. HIS PLANS FOR REVENGE? RUINED.

ALL BECAUSE YOU AND TARA WANTED TO PLAY GAMES.

He might never recover. Might. But first, he needs to call Thomas back before his "investigation" starts a national crisis.

Xavier:

He had just returned from a long night of fighting Wanderers when his phone chimed with an alert.

Half-asleep, he smiled at the sight of your name, already thinking of how he'd respond once he changed and collapsed into bed.

That smile froze the moment he saw the picture.

The phone slipped from his fingers, landing on his face. But he didn’t even wince. Too numb to feel it.

His vision blurred. His chest ached. Tears welled, unbidden.

Genuinely heartbroken. So weary. So tired. For a moment, he was shattered.

Did he have the strength to wager another lifetime?

His time was already running out. His strength faded with each passing day. He had selfishly wanted this spring with you...but this was better for you. You were too kind, too caring to bear his loss.

Perhaps this was for the best. His lips trembled at the thought.

You had someone now, someone who would not bring you grief. And you looked so happy in that photo. He stared at the blurred curve of your smile, tracing it with his gaze.

Somehow, he managed a small smile too.

And then he folded into himself. And slept.

For days.

So long that you started to worry, noticing his absence at work.

Until, finally, you barge into his apartment, breathless and frantic, only to find him asleep, moonlight spilling across his face, eerily still.

Your heart plummeted.

"Xavier." Your voice trembled as you rushed to him, fingers shaking as you took his hand.

For a terrible, suffocating second, he didn’t move.

And then, his brow twitched.

Air rushed back into your lungs.

Zayne:

This was to be expected.

He was never what you needed.

He often failed at words. His gestures, too vague to be understood.

You deserved someone who loved you. Someone who had the courage to say those words out loud.

Not him.

Not someone who could hurt you. His scars only grow deeper with time.

So he accepts it. Buries himself in work.

If he could not be your lover, then he would play his part as a friend.

Pays extra attention to your health. Pours over your reports. He must. Because he is no longer close enough to watch over you himself.

And weeks later, when you finally visit him, he keeps up the act—cold, distant, unbothered.

He does all the tests. Runs all the checks. Everything is routine.

But you see it.

The dark circles, deeper than ever. His skin, paler. Cheeks, sunken. His shirt, unwashed.

"You're coming home with me."

Your voice leaves no room for argument as you take his hand. "You never call. You only text about my reports and nothing more. We need to talk."

You tug him forward. He follows, until he stops.

"Your boyfriend won’t like it," he murmurs, staring anywhere but at you.

Silence.

"What boyfriend?"

You blink at him, dumbfounded.

Sylus:

Sylus spits his coffee, choking as he stares at the pictures.

Does not buy it.

That’s clearly not a man.

Yet somehow, he keeps going back to it, again and again.

It’s only when Luke and Kieran peer over his shoulder that his denial starts cracking.

"Ooooh, boss has got competition," Luke chimes.

One minute, they’re laughing. The next, they’re outside the mansion, the door slamming shut behind them.

Luke blinks. "That explains..."

Kieran yanks him into a chokehold for getting them banished for the day.

Inside, Sylus switches to wine.

The day has been too much.

Not a man, right? he muses, scrutinizing the photo, before accidentally pressing the heart button.

And then, he all but chews the glass in his hand.

He’s not worried.

He just suddenly feels the urge to burn his entire closet because nothing looks good enough.

He doesn’t care.

He’s just made a few calls, just to make sure you’re not involved with anyone sketchy. Unless, of course, it’s him.

Then, like an absolute idiot, he gets a panicked call from an associate.

The only person who’s been in your apartment? Tara.

Sylus stares at the image. Facepalms.

That evening, when he picks you up from work, he looks exhausted.

As if a few hours have aged him years.

When you ask, he waves you off, dodging every question.

You raise a brow. "Are you sure? You look—"

"I said it’s nothing," he snaps, before sighing, dragging a hand down his face. "...Can we just go home

Caleb:

Storming to Linkon.

Geared up to blow up the entire apartment complex.

Spends five minutes struggling with the locked door before finally getting it open.

Marches in.

Stops. Sighs in disapproval at your empty fridge.

Good thing he packed snacks. Leaves them on your counter. You’ll thank him later.

Then, back to the mission.

Collects all forensic evidence needed. Marches out.

No time to waste.

Supervises the DNA administration.

Hair sample. Used coffee mug. Both next to yours.

He will find the bastard. He will take him out.

And then, he will whisk you away to Skyheaven, to console you once you learn of your tragic, mysterious loss.

Grief will bring you closer.

Every intern running tests is sweating.

So are the lead scientists, who have been personally forced to oversee this insanity.

No one is messing with the colonel today.

And then, finally, the results land on his desk.

Caleb stares. Dumbfounded.

Is he to fight both men and women for you now?

You better watch out for Tara because he does not discriminate.

[paddockletters]

super sperm | carlos sainz jr

pairing: carlos sainz jr x reader summary: carlos can’t resist teasing the world about starting a family, but when he casually drops that he and his partner might be trying soon, no one takes him seriously—until they realize he wasn’t joking. request: yes! / the funniest request istg, thank uuu so much!

carlossainz55

Liked by y/username and 682,519 others

carlossainz55: Every day feels like a vacation when I'm with you ❤️

y/username

Liked by carlossainz55 and 193,834 others

y/username: today's workout were something else

comments:

carlossainz55: and people ask me why I can't focus at the gym�� 😮‍💨

y/username

liked by carlossainz55 and 193,742 others

y/username: night out with my girls

comments:

carlossainz55: ancel your plans, come back home, let’s stay in 😉

y/username

liked by carlossainz55 and 213,052 others

y/username: living my best life

comments:

carlossainz55: How can someone be so cute and sexy at the same time? Asking for a friend.

y/username

liked by carlossainz55 and 1,653,742 others

y/username: Looks like Carlos’ superpower worked… baby coming soon! 💛

comments:

carlossainz55: told you so. super sperm strikes again

user1: THIS MF REALLY DID IT 😭

user2: Carlos be like: I’m a man of my word 💀

user3: SOMEONE GIVE THIS MAN A MEDAL

user4: We all laughed and now look at us. Sobbing

user5: The way Carlos is so smug right now, I’m howling 😂

user6: I can’t believe he manifested this into existence.

user7: Bro really followed through on his super sperm statement. Iconic.

user8: Carlos wasn’t playing around!!!

charles_leclerc: I can’t believe you guys actually did it 😭

landonorris: Carlos said 'watch me' and we all should’ve believed him 😂

user9: Congratulations!!! But also, I’m never recovering from Carlos' 'super sperm' comment 😭

user10: Carlos with the 'I told you so' 💀

[stunie]

i just WOKE UP !!?????!!!!!!

2024.07.15 — dinner date with Ume. ♡

(hands up if you know where the reference photo’s froooommmmm!!!! >:3 aju nice.)

[sevarchive]

♡ bllk kahoot edition ──

synopsis: in which nine blue lock players are forced into a “team bonding” on kahoot! starring: isagi yoichi, rin itoshi, shidou ryusei, bachira meguru, reo mikage, nagi seishiro, chigiri hyoma, barou shouei, gagamaru gin, and kunigami rensuke

a/n: this took me an entire day to write, edit, and recover from emotionally TT i really hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed losing my mind making it. have fun, i hope your brain short-circuits at least once. enjoy the ride 💀🧹

[ isagi started a call. ]

isagi: okay—okay, everyone’s here, let’s just—

barou: if one of you makes a fart noise into the mic i’m blocking you

isagi: i didn’t even say anything yet 💀

shidou: YOOOOO START IT I’M FOAMING AT THE MOUTH. MY MOUSE IS READY TO VIOLENCE.

bachira: wait i can’t hear anything is that my mic or shidou screaming again?

reo: your mic’s fine. shidou can we please act like people for two seconds—

shidou: NAHHHHH I’M LOCKED IN CHAT

nagi: …i still haven’t opened it btw

barou: STOP BEING LAZY. OPEN IT. YOU TAP TWO BUTTONS AND YOUR WHOLE LIFE’S NOT THAT HARD.

gagamaru: gu—ys—wai—i—he—lp—

isagi: gagamaru are you STILL lagging???

gagamaru: i’m in a forest

rin: bro what

reo: are you in the middle of a national park right now—

gagamaru: it’s fine, i climbed higher. might have signal now… i think

shidou (laughing way too hard): MY GUY IS PLAYING KAHOOT FROM A BRANCH. A BRANCH.

barou (losing it): IF I LOSE TO SOMEONE USING TWIG SIGNAL I’M FLIPPING MY WHOLE SETUP.

rin: i hope this kahoot crashes

bachira: same but in a fun way

shidou: IM READY LET’S GOOOOO

isagi: okay okay i’m sending the game pin—we're not starting until everyone’s in, alright??

reo: someone tell nagi it’s not a visual novel he actually has to do something.

nagi (deadpan): idc. i’m just here to breathe and get questions wrong.

isagi: code’s 666420. join the kahoot. don’t pick dumb names this time.

chigiri: …that feels illegal.

bachira: OMG that’s my angel number!!!

Nagi: too lazy to type it. someone click for me.

gagamaru (faint, laggy): wai—don’t—start—i can’t—my screen’s—fro—

[ gagamaru left the call. ]

bachira: GAGAMARU NOOOO

reo: bro he’s gonna rejoin and say “wait what question are we on” when we’re on like #19

kunigami: wait what’s the code again i just got here—

shidou: THE CODE IS 666420—YOU’RE WELCOME! LOCK THAT IN YOUR MUSCLE BRAIN

chigiri: someone mute him PLS

[ gagamaru joined the call. ]

bachira: OMG TREE WIFI IS BACK

gagamaru: uhhh so signal’s kinda better now. a crow moved off the branch so that helped ig

reo: bro kicked karasu off the tree just to join kahoot

shidou: LMAO karasu somewhere in the woods like “damn my bad bro, didn’t know you were lagging”

isagi: ok who the hell just joined as @ben.d.over

everyone (talking at once): NAHHHH

kunigami: wait why’s everyone laughing what’s wrong with ben

rin: read it again slowly

kunigami: …oh my god

isagi: i’m ending this game already and we haven’t even started—

rin: i should’ve muted you all when i had the chance

reo: too late we’re in the trenches now

[messi_is_me has joined the game.]

[rin has joined the game.]

[HUGH MUNGUS has joined the game.]

[ben.d.over has joined the game.]

[richdaddyreal has joined the game.]

[leftthumbonly has joined the game.]

[imagine losing has joined the game.]

[EMPEROR_OF_GOALS has joined the game.]

[muscle_reaper7 has joined the game.]

[forestwifi_survivor has joined the game.]

isagi: bro who the hell is HUGH MUNGUS 😭

shidou (already dying): NAHHHHHHHHH whoever typed that needs jail and a hug

bachira: sobbing at ben.d.over omg pls whoever you are never change 💖💖💖

kunigami: this is actually a crime against maturity

reo: bro we’re in 8th grade again and it’s kinda fun ngl

gagamaru (still lagging): wait who’s hugh? did another person join??

barou: TCH. EMPEROR_OF_GOALS has ARRIVED.

everyone: bro. we KNOW it’s you 😭😭😭

isagi: ok BUT why is someone just rin 💀 that’s worse than being cringe

shidou: LMFAOOOO bro typed his name like it’s a school test

chigiri: nah bro said “i’m not like the other girls” and then picked nothing

rin: i am literally just rin. i have dignity. unlike the rest of you parasites.

bachira: ok “rin” 🙄✨

[ host clicks “start game” ]

[ kahoot music starts blaring ]

barou (mic BUSTED): LETS GO EMPEROR OF GOALS! I WILL ASCEND.

shidou (yelling over him): AYYYYYYY GET READY TO LOOOOOOOSEEEEE 🔥🔥🔥

bachira (cackling): MY EARS JUST LEFT THE CHAT 💀💀💀

chigiri: somebody MUTE THEM.

shidou (immediately): EZ. it’s RED. next question.

isagi: BRO DON’T SAY THE ANSWER DIMWIT 😭😭😭

reo: YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO SAY IT OUT LOUD YOU WALKING CONCUSSION

bachira: LMFAOOO not shidou speedrunning self-sabotage

kunigami: this is why we can’t have nice things

nagi: does that mean it’s not red? 🤨

gagamaru (from the trees): wait hold up i just got signal what did he say

barou: TCH. if you don’t know the answer, don’t play the game.

chigiri: bro has the audacity to scream the answer like it’s a flex

rin: first question and the stupidity’s already astronomical

shidou: ok but like. i was RIGHT tho. you’re welcome.

isagi: this isn’t a group project bro SHUT UP 💀

[ leaderboard after Q1: ]

🥇 ben.d.over 🥈 EMPEROR_OF_GOALS 🥉 messi_is_me 4th — leftthumbonly 5th — HUGH MUNGUS

barou: SECOND?! I AM THE EMPEROR. I DO NOT ACCEPT THIS.

isagi: how the hell am i losing to a guy named ben.d.over

shidou: i’m FIFTH??? i SAID the answer out loud 😭

reo: you helped everyone and still fumbled.

nagi: me being 4th is actually a miracle. i clicked by accident

gagamaru (finally loading): wait the leaderboard’s up?? guys. what place am i

chigiri: bro you’re not even on it 😭

rin: one question in and i already want to mute this entire call

bachira: #1 babyyyyy catch me if you cannnn

gagamaru (already overwhelmed): ok wait wait. it SAYS “red” but the box is BLUE! do i click the blue box that says red?? or the RED box??

reo: just click the one that says red 😭 it’s not a trick question

barou (yelling): NO—JUST PICK THE COLOR

gagamaru: WHAT—WHICH COLOR?? THE COLOR OF THE BOX OR THE COLOR OF THE WORD??

bachira: i’m wheezing he’s getting gaslit in 4K

shidou: bro’s fighting kahoot, barou, and his internet all at once 💀

kunigami: nah that was dirty i won’t lie lol i had an existential crisis

nagi: i think he just blacked out and clicked uno

isagi: whoever designed kahoot is actually evil for that one

barou: IF YOU FELL FOR THAT YOU’RE A MORON. WORDS OVER COLORS. THINK WITH YOUR HEAD.

rin (finally losing it): you are all COLORBLIND. you are COLOR. BLIND.

[ leaderboard after Q2: ]

🥇 leftthumbonly 🥈 ben.d.over 🥉 EMPEROR_OF_GOALS 4th — messi_is_me 5th — rin

gagamaru (finally catching up): NOOOO i should’ve clicked the blue one that SAID red

reo: bro that was 2 minutes ago 😭 you still processing??

nagi (deadpan): ayo??? how am i first

bachira: YOU??? i was #1 you fraud

barou: THIS IS AN OUTRAGE. EMPEROR OF GOALS WILL NOT STAND FOR THIRD.

isagi: i’m 4th. this is bullying.

bachira: wait bro where’s imagine losing 😭😭😭

reo: nah don’t tell me chigiri’s not even on the board 💀

shidou: bro’s the fastest in real life but couldn’t even click a button in time 😭

isagi: he’s got 40-yard dash speed but lagging in kahoot reflexes 💀

chigiri (furious): I MISCLICKED ONCE

barou: sounds like skill issue to me

chigiri: ok but when i beat all of you in sprints i don’t wanna hear a thing

shidou: not if kahoot beats you first 🫵

isagi: there is ONE correct answer here. and if y’all pick anything else i’m calling the cops

reo: WHAT IS THIS QUESTION??? 😭

bachira: i voted for my imaginary friend. he told me to

shidou: gagamaru’s wifi is NOT the goat that’s the villain 😭

gagamaru (suddenly cutting out): i clicked m– krrch —own wifi an— skshh—wait why— disconnects

[ gagamaru left the call. ]

chigiri: NAHHHHHHHHHH 😭😭😭 HIS WIFI TOOK IT PERSONALLY

reo: he clicked “gagamaru’s wifi” and it jumped him on sight 😭💀

shidou: HIS WIFI SAID “WHO’S THE GOAT NOW?” AND YEETED HIM OFF THE CALL 😭😭😭

bachira: self-inflicted lag. beautiful

barou (suddenly SCREAMING): WHY. IS. MY. REFLECTION. ON THIS DAMN LIST. WHO. PUT. THAT.

isagi: you sound mad for someone who looks in the mirror every 4 minutes

barou: I’M MAD IT’S EVEN AN OPTION. THIS BETTER BE THE CORRECT ANSWER OR I’M ENDING THIS GAME.

isagi: calm down emperor palpatine it’s not that deep

barou: SOMEONE CHANGE THE QUIZ NAME TO “WHO WANTS TO DIE TODAY”

shidou: NO LMAO SOMEONE GIVE HIM A POINT JUST FOR SELF-LOVE

[ leaderboard after Q3: ]

🥇 HUGH MUNGUS 🥈 leftthumbonly 🥉 ben.d.over 4th — richdaddyreal 5th — EMPEROR_OF_GOALS

isagi: HUGH MUNGUS???? bro HOW are you first 😭😭😭

shidou (screaming): LET’S GOOOOOOO I AM HIM 😤💥💪

bachira: how did he climb all that from the pits of dumbassery

barou (still fuming): you’re telling me my reflection wasn’t correct?? YOU’RE SAYING RONALDO OVER MY MIRRORED GLORY???

reo: it’s literally a real person vs. your gym selfie 😭

[ gagamaru joined the call. ]

gagamaru (reconnected, confused): wait i got booted mid-question did the wifi option win or what

isagi: nah bro your wifi sabotaged you 😭

gagamaru: my router’s holding a grudge i swear

rin: i hate that HUGH MUNGUS is at the top of the leaderboard. i actually hate this.

bachira: don’t worry rin, you’re top 1...IN SULKING SPEEDRUNS

rin: i hate all of you

reo: WAIT. IS THAT RIN IN A BALLGOWN 😭😭😭

isagi: YO WHO MADE THIS QUIZ. WHO DID THAT TO HIM 💀💀💀

nagi: nah he lowkey serving… but also threatening

shidou: bro looks like he’s about to hit a pirouette and a homicide 💃🔪

rin (furious): WHAT. THE HELL. IS THAT PICTURE.

bachira: you in your disney princess era bestie 😚

barou: ENOUGH. I BETTER NOT BE THE RIGHT ANSWER. I AM FASHION.

kunigami: you wore zebra pants with gold chains last week–

chigiri: don’t forget the crown and the “born to score” crop top

barou: SAY THAT AGAIN AND I’LL SCORE YOUR FUNERAL

gagamaru (still buffering): wait why is rin dressed like elsa

reo: can we circle back to the fact that I’m an option too??

bachira: yeah that’s for all your rich boy yacht outfits 😭

rin: WHO MADE THIS. WHO ACTUALLY MADE THIS.

shidou: these questions got more violent than blue lock itself 💀

isagi: nah fr. this isn’t trivia, this is targeted bullying

bachira: AND I’M ENJOYING EVERY SECOND 😍

[ leaderboard after Q4: ]

🥇 HUGH MUNGUS 🥈 ben.d.over 🥉 leftthumbonly 4th — EMPEROR_OF_GOALS 5th — messi_is_me

shidou (wheezing): BAROU WAS THE CORRECT ONE 😭😭😭😭😭😭

bachira: LMAOOOOOOO I’M ACTUALLY CRYINGGGG

barou (screaming from his soul): EXCUSE ME?!?!?!?!?!

reo: oh my god he’s gonna suplex the kahoot server

isagi: no bc the zebra pants were a crime and the quiz just confirmed it 💀

kunigami: justice has been served. with glitter and shame.

barou: WHO DECIDED THIS?? WHO HAS THE AUDACITY TO PUT EMPEROR OF GOALS AS A FASHION FAILURE

nagi: you wear gold chains to practice bro

chigiri: and you showed up in crocs once. crocs. with spikes.

rin: Y’ALL ARE LAUGHING AND I’M STILL IN A DAMN GOWN

gagamaru (delayed): rin look like he’s about to sing “let it go”

bachira: BC HE’S LETTING GO OF HIS DIGNITY

barou: THIS. QUIZ. IS. RIGGED.

reo: NAHHHH THIS QUIZ JUST WENT PERSONAL 💀💀💀

bachira: “rin (but he’ll never admit it)” is insane levels of violence 😭

nagi: picked blue. left foot supremacy

shidou: i picked yellow. i want drama 😈

isagi: bro this is less trivia and more emotional exposure therapy

rin (furious): WHY AM I EVEN AN OPTION. WHO ADDED THAT.

bachira: sorry rin ur tsundere lore is out 😚

shidou: “he’ll never admit it” is SO real tho

barou: I THOUGHT THIS WAS A GAME ABOUT SOCCER. WHY ARE WE IN A TELL-ALL CONFESSIONAL

kunigami: lowkey “the idea of being better than everyone else” might actually be the most accurate

gagamaru (late as always): wait did sae join the kahoot??

bachira: no but i wish he did just to see him pick “himself” and log out

rin: this quiz is sick. i’m reporting it.

shidou: what’s wrong rin. you don’t love yourself the way sae maybe does??? 😭😭😭

[ leaderboard after Q5: ]

🥇 HUGH MUNGUS 🥈 ben.d.over 🥉 leftthumbonly 4th — richdaddyreal 5th — EMPEROR_OF_GOALS

bachira: nooooo not “himself” 😭😭😭 SAE YOU SELF-LOVING BASTARD

isagi: bro really looked at love and said “me, myself, and i”

shidou: LMFAOOO RIN GOT LEFT ON READ BY HIS OWN BLOOD 💔💀

reo: can someone hug rin before he explodes

nagi: rin’s emotionally speedrunning all five stages of grief

barou: i don’t care if sae loves a brick, can we move on

gagamaru: wait so sae doesn’t love rin?? 😔

rin (low, dead inside): i’m. not. crying.

bachira: you’re just allergic to emotional damage??

shidou: guys don’t make fun of him. he’s top 1 in having a fictional situationship with his brother

isagi: can someone play sad violin noises over vc

reo: we need to end this before rin disconnects permanently 😭

nagi: yo is this next one the last question??

isagi: yeah yeah ONE MORE. FINAL ROUND. everyone breathe and brace!

isagi: WHAT AM I LOOKING AT

reo: WHY IS HIS APRON SO TIGHT WHO DID THIS

bachira: NOOOO HE LOOKS SO ANGRY YET SO SERVING 😭😭

nagi: this is the scariest and sexiest thing i’ve ever seen

shidou: TRUE. TRUE. TRUE. I CLICKED TRUE BEFORE IT EVEN LOADED

kunigami: what the actual hell is this quiz

barou (deranged screaming): WHO MADE THIS. WHO FOUND THAT PICTURE. I WILL END YOU.

isagi: bro why does he still look like he could bench press all of us in that outfit

gagamaru (in awe): wait fr… why is he kinda…

chigiri: no say it. we’re all thinking it.

gagamaru: …kinda bad

bachira: BADDER THAN YOUR WIFI 😭😭😭

rin: i think i'm gonna be sick..

shidou: maid barou supremacy forever. that apron’s doing heavy lifting

reo: he looks like he’s about to hand me a cupcake and then body slam me

barou (still unhinged): I’M ENDING THIS QUIZ. I’M DELETING KAHOOT. I’M BLOCKING ALL OF YOU

bachira: too late babe you're trending on maidtok 💅🧹

[ FINAL KAHOOT LEADERBOARD ]

🥇 HUGH MUNGUS 🥈 ben.d.over 🥉 leftthumbonly

shidou (screaming): I WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNNN LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOOOO 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

bachira: NOOOOOOO WHY DID I GET SECOND 😭😭😭 i wanted the power

nagi: i was just pressing colors. what happened

isagi: i dropped from 3rd to off the podium like my stocks crashed bro

reo: wait. where the hell did I go. am i in NINTH??

kunigami: i’m BELOW gagamaru. and he picked options with lag.

gagamaru (re-entering from the woods): i think i clicked red but it was actually green and the crow started screeching again

chigiri: y'all just imagine me being the fastest in blue lock and the slowest in kahoot like shut the hell up

bachira: chigiri fumbled the click bag 💀

rin: i hate that HUGH MUNGUS is the winner. i genuinely hate it.

isagi: ok rules are rules… winner gets to choose anything, right?

shidou (with the most evil smirk): YES. and i’ve decided 😇

barou (already panicking): no. NO. WHATEVER IT IS, NO.

shidou: you… barou-sama…are going to wear. the maid outfit. AGAIN. 😈 but this time... we’re POSTING IT ON TWITTER 🧍‍♀️✨

barou (screeching): WHATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

bachira: LIVE YOUR TRUTH MAID KING 😭😭😭😭

reo: we are boosting the tweet. everyone turn on RTs

nagi: wait let me edit the photo. adding sparkles and cat ears rn

gagamaru: can we tag ego

kunigami: you are all going to hell gagamaru. DON'T

barou (frothing): I WILL UNPLUG EVERY ROUTER IN JAPAN. I SWEAR.

shidou (typing on phone already): caption: "maid barou ready to serve AND score 🧹💘"

rin: i’m leaving. i’m logging off. this is brain rot.

bachira: SEE Y’ALL AT THE NEXT KAHOOT 😍🎉

[ vc disconnected ]

જ⁀➴ © sevarchive ✦ masterlist ; like/reblogs are appreciated ꣑ৎ

[lonerslug]

I love your writing sooo much. could you do roommate sevika HCS please please pleaseeeeee. fluff and smut 🥰🥰

Move In, Make Out

Fluff masterlist

⟡ The silent type at first. When you first moved in, Sevika barely said two words.

Cold, gruff, never took her earbuds out. She nodded when you greeted her, but that was it. You thought she hated you.

⟡ she totally watched you when you weren’t looking. She noticed what time you came home, your favorite snacks, the way you hummed when cooking.

She pretended she didn’t care, but when you mentioned needing a specific shampoo again, it magically appeared in the bathroom.

⟡ Grows so soft for you over time. Eventually, she starts leaving you food ,without admitting it, tossing her hoodie at you when you’re cold, mumbling “I’m already up” when she hears your alarm go off too early.

⟡ Movie nights where she sits on the opposite side of the couch at first, then eventually one cushion away, then one day you’re tucked under her arm and she’s feeding you popcorn without looking.

⟡ Protective over you in the smallest ways. Walks you to the bus stop at night. Fixes the leak under the sink without saying a word. Glares at your Tinder dates through the peephole. You think she’s being overbearing. She’s just jealous.

⟡ You once walked in on her talking to your cat in full baby voice. She’s never recovered from the shame. You won’t let her live it down.

⟡ Late night convos at the kitchen table with her in nothing but a tank top and sweats, cigarette dangling from her mouth, listening to your little rambles and nodding like it’s the most important thing she’s heard all week.

Smut

⟡ The tension builds forever before anything happens.

Like brushing hands when you pass in the hallway, her staring when you stretch in your tiny little shorts, her pausing behind you in the kitchen just a second too long.

⟡ She hears everything and puts her ear on your door every time you touch yourself. every sigh, every gasp, every whimper. She lays there biting her knuckle, whispering curses, absolutely losing her mind over you being so close but off-limits.

⟡ First time is rough, fast, against the kitchen counter, because she can’t hold it in anymore. Your legs around her waist, her growling “this what you wanted, baby?” while you sob into her neck.

⟡ Then she feels guilty about it being so rough, so later that night she pulls you into her bed and makes you come slow, soft, over and over again with her fingers between your thighs and her lips on your neck.

⟡ she stops bringing other girls home. Stops flirting with bartenders. Stops pretending she doesn’t care. Because she does. A lot. And one day she’ll actually say it out loud. Maybe. If you don’t make fun of her voice cracking.

⟡ Ties your hands with her belt and makes you wait, makes you ask before she touches you.

“Say please, sweetheart. You know how this works.”

⟡ wakes you up with head. Like, before your alarm goes off. You open your eyes and her face is already buried between your legs, one arm locked over your stomach, holding you still while you gasp awake.

She’ll look up from between your thighs, lazy, smug, voice gravelly:

“Good morning, sweetheart. Miss me?”

taglist: @amri0ram @sapphicstrawcore @shanesevikasfuckdoll @sevikas-whore @barelykiramman @joyispunk @georgiahs-stuff @illbecanon @butchpuppyy @riotstemple29 @mistershotz

[roosterr]

Hi idk if you're accepting requests but I literally just read the amnesia fic, and I was wondering if I could request where reader suddenly remembers everything, and sprints around base trying to find them, and just jumps on them crying and apologizing for forgetting them. Just some really fluffy comfort? It's okay if you don't want to write this lol

the 141 when you have amnesia – p2

note: i have received your therapy bills :)

wc: 5.2k

warnings: still a bit angsty I'm sorry I couldn't resist, fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injury and blood, happy endings for all I promise

ao3

[part one]

price

✹ john thought your initial reaction was a good sign. you seemed to be taking things well, considering the extent of your injuries, and it was only a matter of time before your memories returned.

✹ your spirits are high when you're reintroduced to the team, and though you don't remember them either you do say they feel familiar, which he takes as a good sign for your recovery.

✹ when you're finally discharged, he takes you home, to the house that the two of you bought together. he shows you the photos of the two of you that decorate the walls, fondly retelling the stories of each one to you even though you were there, and these are your pictures.

✹ if you notice the way he chokes up when you get to your wedding photos, you don't say anything.

✹ like the true gentleman he is, he insists on sleeping on the sofa and leaving you to take the bed, despite your protests about it being his home too. even though you were receptive, he would never risk making you uncomfortable by sleeping in the same bed when he was, essentially, a stranger.

✹ in all your years of marriage, he's never slept on the sofa before. the two of you rarely go to bed without each other, apart from the times you're separated by your job, and consequently he finds himself not getting much rest.

✹ you're still on leave while you're physically recovering from being in a coma, so john has to go to work without you every morning, something he also hasn't done since you got married. he wishes he could bring you with him anyway, just to have you near him, but he knows that's selfish and you still need time.

✹ the base is dull without you.

✹ again, he keeps up the appearance that he's okay, and maybe it's a little more true this time now that you're actually awake, but he still feels your absence like a weight on his shoulders.

✹ the other three are pleased amongst themselves about your recovery, gaz and soap constantly asking him how you are; and he knows they mean well, but it's still irritating because how could you be okay? you don't even remember your own husband, nothing about this is okay.

✹ he keeps his grievances to himself though. he's still their captain, he can't afford to fall apart when he still has a job to do.

✹ he's woken up one night by soft footsteps in the living room. his neck aches as his eyes snap open, every sense on high alert until he realises it's just you. a quiet grunt escapes him as he sits up, massaging his sore muscles from sleeping on the sofa.

✹ when the sound of muffled crying reaches his ears, he's immediately on his feet, his heart racing as he shuffles over to where you're standing with a hand covering your mouth.

✹ he presses a hand to your back, rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. you don't look at him, your crying only increasing in volume now you're not worried about waking him.

✹ now that he's right next to you, he sees through the darkness that you're holding one of your wedding photos. it's his favourite picture, the one where he's lifting you with an arm around your waist and you're both gazing into each other's eyes with the most lovestruck expression on your faces.

✹ "i– i know i love you, so wh-why can't i just remember you?" you sputter in between sobs, and you might as well have just ripped his heart out of his chest, because he can't stop the way he breaks down at your words.

✹ john wraps both arms tightly around you, caging you to his chest and nestling your head into the crook of his shoulder while pressing his own tear-stained face into the top of your head.

✹ "it's alright, love–" his voice cracks pitifully, and he's never felt quite as hopeless as he does in this moment. "it'll be alright, you'll remember, i promise…"

✹ he's not sure who he's trying to convince, you or himself as you both sink to the floor in each other's embrace. you stay like that for hours, crying for your lost memory into the early morning.

✹ after that, he can't be bothered to pretend he's okay anymore.

✹ he starts drinking again, shamelessly in the middle of the day and grumbling at gaz and ghost when they wrestle the bottle away from him. he knows you'd disapprove, but the toll of lying to himself and everyone around him has caught up. all he wanted was his partner back, the love of his life, you.

✹ the others try to knock some sense into him, but talking to him becomes like going back and forth with a brick wall. gaz even gets kate on the phone to yell at him, but nothing seems to get through. he orders them to leave him alone, stop asking about you, and it really feels like he's lost hope.

✹ it goes on like this for a week straight, nearly a full month since you first woke up.

✹ and then one boring afternoon, there's a commotion outside his office. john hears cheers and shouts from down the corridor, but he can't bring himself to care enough to investigate.

✹ he's not in the mood to celebrate whatever it is they're cheering about anyway.

✹ john's just about to stand and yell at them to shut up, but then you're suddenly standing at his door, slamming it behind you as you rush over to his desk. his face must be the picture of surprise as he swivels in his chair to follow you as you approach, opening his legs for you to stand between them.

✹ his breath catches in his throat as you cup his face, your touch so tender it has his heart hammering against his sternum like the very first time you touched him all those years ago. he plants his hands firmly on your hips, too afraid of getting his hopes up to say a single word as he watches you get closer.

✹ your face hovers just above his, warm breath fanning over his face as you inch ever closer. he sees your eyes glistening before they flutter shut, brushing your lips against his with an anticipation that has his skin tingling.

✹ when you pull away, his eyes stay closed, but he can hear the smile in your voice when you whisper,

✹ "i remember you now."

✹ his heart might’ve actually stopped at your words, surprise shooting through him like a bolt of lightning as his eyes snap open.

✹ in a second, he's lifting you by the waist and dropping you onto his desk, uncaring for the various papers that he brushes out of the way to make room for you.

✹ he can't stop the overjoyed laugh that rumbles in his chest now he's the one standing between your legs, gripping your face and pushing his lips back against your with all the passion he's been bottling up during your recovery.

✹ you smile into the kiss too, wrapping your arms securely around his neck, running your fingers up his neck and through his hair. it feels like a weight has lifted, something heavy in the back of his mind finally dissipating and allowing him to relax into your hold.

✹ the two of you break away after a moment, keeping him close to you as you press your forehead to his. "i'm sorry that i ever forgot you."

✹ "i can think of a way you can make it up to me, love…"

gaz

✹ you're so apologetic about your amnesia, it breaks his heart all over again. what's worse is that he has no idea what to do; he doesn't want to try and force you to remember, that would just stress you out more, but he wants you to remember him so desperately he feels it ache in his bones.

✹ in the end, he decides to just let things play out. he wants you to recover at your own pace, and not just because of him and how he feels about you.

✹ he also doesn't say a word about your relationship, but with how he initially reacted, he's sure you got the idea. you don't mention it either, which admittedly hurts a little, but he's sure the confusion of waking up to having a boyfriend who's name you don't even know is worse than how he feels about it.

✹ kyle vows to take care of you the moment you're discharged. he takes you to your room, shows you where everything is, makes sure you know where he is should you ever need anything, and he even introduces you to the others again.

✹ you still remember your job and how to do it so, once you're physically well enough, you get right back to it. they carry on as normal, the rest of the taskforce – assimilating you back into their nights of drinking and fucking around as if you'd never left.

✹ kyle still doesn't feel right about it.

✹ he doesn't want to treat you like glass, because you're exactly the same as when he first met you. you're still quick-witted, stubborn, and one of the toughest people he knows, you just… don't know him.

✹ it kills him on the inside, but he stays strong for you; the last thing he wants is to become the mess of a man he was when you were out, he doesn't want you to see him like that. he sorely misses spending his nights with you, and talking endlessly about your days to each other. he sends you longing glances every time you look away, wondering if you'd ever feel the same again.

✹ if you can go back to living normally, why can't he?

✹ but as the weeks go by, kyle notices how you start to withdraw, the loneliness that blocks out the light in your eyes that he loves so much. you fade into the background of conversations, sticking to listening rather than engaging.

✹ you watch them from afar, and he still knows you well enough to know what's going through your head. feeling somehow like you belong and also like an outsider at the same time, wishing you could understand the inside jokes you were a part of.

✹ he wishes more than anything that there was something he could do – make you understand that you're wanted, and you're a valuable part of the team even without your memories, but any time he brings it up you simply brush him off with that far away look in your eyes.

✹ three weeks go by before anything changes.

✹ it's the first time in a while they finally have an afternoon off, so of course they decide to spend it playing football on one of the fields within the bounds of the base. soap and ghost on one team, gaz and the captain on the other, with you spectating and keeping score on the sidelines. 

✹ kyle offered to sit out if you wanted to play, but you'd brushed him off with the excuse of wanting to rest and read your book, laying out your jacket on the grass to sit on.

✹ he could tell you weren't all there, but he didn't know how to help you; so he just reassured you that you could call him over if you needed anything, and left you to guard his own jacket and water bottle before running off to join the game.

✹ the whole time he was sprinting around the field, he couldn't stop looking over to you over by the sidelines. he wasn't with it, he hadn't been since you woke up, really, and the others could tell.

✹ price abruptly calls half-time, clapping gaz on the shoulder and giving him a knowing look. "just talk to 'em, before it eats you alive." he chides, pushing him in your direction before he can think to protest.

✹ with a deep sigh and a glace backwards to the others, who shoo him away without a word, he jogs over to where you're sitting. the way the late afternoon sun hits you just right stops kyle dead in his tracks when he catches how it glows in your eyes. he feels a pull in his chest as he approaches you.

✹ you look up from your book as his shadow reaches you, shooting him a tiny smile as he drops himself next to you. he takes a swig from his water bottle as he catches his breath, extremely conscious of the way your teammates are pretending not to watch him while he comes up with the words.

✹ "so, who's winning then?" you ask, turning so you're facing him. he sees how your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.

✹ "aren't you supposed to be keepin' score?" kyle chuckles, shifting slightly closer to you as you look away with a bashful expression. he allows your hands to brush, wanting nothing more than to lock your fingers together.

✹ "i'm not really paying attention."

✹ there's a beat of silence and that helpless feeling is back as he watches you look back out to the field, where the others are still kicking the ball back and forth.

✹ "how you doin'?" he asks, keeping his voice low as he leans in even closer to you. your mouth opens to respond, that slightly off smile back on your face, but before you can he places his hand fully over yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. "actually."

✹ you sigh, heavy and tired, and bring your gaze back over to his. "it's… hard." you begin, your eyes betraying the internal struggle. "and i'm… i know, before, we were–"

✹ he blinks and you're being sent over backwards by a football flying into your face with a smack that makes kyle's ears ring.

✹ immediately he's crouching over you, helping you sit back up and pressing the sleeve of his jacket to your nose, uncaring for the blood that stains it.

✹ "you alright?" he murmurs, gently holding your face as he inspects your nose. you nod, wincing at the movement, and take the sleeve of his jacket from him.

✹ once he's sure you're okay, his vision turns red with anger. it's pretty obvious who kicked the ball when he whips around to see soap kneeling on the ground with his head in his hands.

✹ "oi!" kyle shouts, sending him a deadly glare as he gets up. "soap, what the fuck!"

✹ the man in question looks up from his hands, an incredibly guilty look on his face. "i'm sorry pal! i dinnae ken what happened!"

✹ "just piss off, you prick!"

✹ kyle looks back to you, crouching down again with a concerned frown; but you're already looking at him, the silhouette of his own form reflected in your wide eyes. your nose is still dripping blood, but you drop his jacket and your hands to your lap anyway, mouth agape as you stare back at him.

✹ "what's wrong? are you–"

✹ you cut him off by tackling him to the ground with your arms around his neck, squeezing a surprised 'oof' from him as you land on top of his chest. one of his hands flies to your waist to steady you, the other carefully cradling your head.

✹ "i remember!" you cry, an elated laugh bubbling up as fresh tears wet your cheeks.

✹ kyle lets out a relieved laugh of his own, craning his neck to plant his lips firmly on yours with an infectious grin. in the background the others groan at the display of affection, but neither of you pay them any mind.

✹ eventually the two of you pull away, a wide smile still plastered on both of your faces as you get up from the grass. he pulls you in with the hand that still hasn't moved from your waist and leans to whisper in your ear,

✹ "fancy kickin' soap's arse?"

✹ "you read my mind."

soap

✹ johnny's enthusiastic with your recovery. anyone could've guessed that from the moment you woke up he'd be doting, eager to help you in any way you could need.

✹ yes, you didn't remember him, but be was just so ecstatic that you were okay – apart from the amnesia – that he couldn't find it in himself to be disappointed about it. you'd get your memories back soon enough, and then everything would go right back to the way it was.

✹ sometimes he gets a little carried away, forgets that while you are technically in a relationship, he's not much more than a stranger to you right now. more than once you end up having to ask him for some space because he's so incredibly touchy, and you're not sure how to handle it.

✹ you also request a temporary room to sleep in while you recover, separate from him. johnny's not sure how he feels about it.

✹ he feels that sinking feeling in his chest whenever you push him back with a hand on his chest, a polite smile tugging at your lips. it's disheartening, but he tries not to let it get to him. you'll remember soon, and then this will all be in the past.

✹ maybe you'll even laugh about it, how you could ever forget your wonderful boyfriend.

✹ he takes it upon himself to read up on amnesia, so he can better understand how to help you in any way you might need. once he learns that exposure to memories that you've lost can help your recovery, he eagerly convinces you to let him show you places that have meaning to you and your relationship with him.

✹ you agree, and he didn't actually need to do much convincing because you seem just as interested in the idea as him. he knocks on your door the following evening, offering you a single rose before whisking you away with a charming smile.

✹ he takes you on your first date all over again, with the same level of enthusiasm as before. he treats you to dinner at a relatively nice restaurant, telling you all about how the two of you got together in the first place, and memories you have together. he even orders you dessert, recalling with a chuckle how he accidentally guessed your favourite on your actual first date.

✹ once you both finish eating, he guides you by the hand to the canal for the second half of the date, a romantic moonlit stroll by the water. he pulls you close with an arm around your shoulders, meeting your eyes with a fond smile and a blush dusting his cheeks.

✹ "hold on…" you mutter, a pensive expression taking over your face as you stop walking. you turn to gaze at the water, seemingly working something out in your mind. "this… this is where gaz fell into the river that one time, right?"

✹ johnny's heart misses a beat, his eyes lighting up with renewed, excited hope as he grins at you. "you remember?"

✹ "a little, yeah," you smile, dropping your gaze and hands from his with a sorry scratch at the back of your neck. "the rest is still blank, though…"

✹ his smile falters, but he's quick to make sure you don't see his disappointment by pulling you into a reassuring hug. "that's still somethin'! you'll be good as new in nae time!"

✹ the next morning, he finds you and gaz in the rec room on one of the couches, talking animatedly with each other. that familiar shine is in your eyes, the sight johnny's been missing for the last few months. it makes his heart feel light, finally seeing you acting like your normal self again after so long.

✹ he approaches you both, watching you fondly as you talk and laugh with gaz, but his good mood is soured when you only briefly acknowledge his arrival when he sits down across from you, before resuming your conversation with gaz. his brow twitches downwards.

✹ gaz is one of your closest friends, and he’s glad you remembered him. he's happy that you got part of your memory back, even if it wasn't a part that included him.

✹ this was a good thing. you'd remember him soon, he was sure of it.

✹ a few more days pass until anything else notable happens. while you were in the gym together, you told him you felt a headache coming on, so he offered to walk you to the infirmary for some painkillers. the casual conversation you made on the way wouldn't have bothered him before, but he just couldn't shake the image of you and gaz being so comfortable, while he's still stuck on the outside.

✹ he doesn't say anything though. making you feel bad about it won't solve anything, and it's not like you're doing it on purpose, he knows you wouldn't do that to him. you were just excited to have a familiar face, that's all.

✹ while you're waiting for the medic on call, your head suddenly snaps to attention and you get that same pensive look on your face as that night by the river.

✹ "you got something?" johnny asks, bringing his hand up to rest on your upper back. he doesn't want to get his hopes up, but he can't help the way his heart flutters with optimism.

✹ you nod, a smile growing on your features. "i remember that time lt. dislocated my shoulder, and price basically forced him apologise to me," you laugh, thankfully facing away from johnny as his lips turn downwards, "god, he was pissed, it was honestly kinda funny."

✹ "what, uhm…" he lightly clears his throat, hoping you don't hear the dejection in his voice, "what about me?"

✹ you meet his eyes again with an apologetic shake of your head. "i'm sorry, soap…"

✹ "yer fine, it's–" he swallows thickly, waving you off with an exaggerated smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "this is good, it's progress."

✹ since then, he's given you more space. it's clear to him that his efforts aren't helping you remember him, it actually feels like it's having the opposite effect. of course, he's glad you remember your friends, but you still don't remember him – your own boyfriend.

✹ it's wrong, and he knows it is, but he's jealous.

✹ he has to watch you carry on like usual, without him. you haven't set foot in the room you used to share together since before you were comatose. he's done his best to disguise how much it hurts, but it still annoys him how no one else seems to notice how wrong it all is. the others don't need you like he does, they don't lay awake at night going over every moment, treasuring the time you called him yours, yearning with every fibre of his being to go back.

✹ it's been a month and a half since you woke up, six weeks of being so close yet so unbearably far from you. he prays to any god that will listen to bring you back to him, allow him to hold you in his arms once more, but nothing ever changes.

✹ the thread he's been hanging on by ever since you went down on that mission gone wrong is one more bad day away from snapping.

✹ he's approached by gaz one morning, while waiting for the others to begin training, who takes it upon himself to ask johnny about how you're recovering. when gaz teases him about how he was the first person you remembered, and johnny thinks he might just strangle him.

✹ "careful, soap, i might steal 'em away," gaz laughs, patting his shoulder with a camaraderie soap scoffs at.

✹ "shut the fuck up." he snarls, his face bunched in a strikingly out of character scowl. his hands twitch at his sides, nails digging painfully into his palms.

✹ gaz blinks, his eyebrows shooting up, clearly taken aback by the hostility from his friend. "alright, i was only jokin', mate."

✹ "aye, well, i'm nae laughin'."

✹ the tension is stifling. he can tell gaz wants to say something more, but he holds his tongue – too worried about upsetting soap any further.

✹ they stand in silence with each other like that for a while, gaz watching him from the corner of his eye while he keeps his gaze firmly on the grass below him.

✹ thankfully, after not too long the uneasy atmosphere is interrupted by a shout from the direction of the building, "johnny!"

✹ his head snaps to attention to see you, grinning uncontrollably and sprinting towards him at full speed.

✹ "wha–" he's caught off guard by how you leap into his arms, hooking your arms around his neck as he stumbles backwards in surprise.

✹ before he has time to question your actions, you're smashing your lips against his in a searing kiss that has johnny's head spinning. he wastes no time in reciprocating, securing one arm around your waist and bringing the other to the back of your head, using it you press you impossibly closer to him as he groans into your mouth.

✹ you reluctantly pull away, just enough to take a shaky breath, but johnny's had stays put on the back of your head. "i'm sorry i forgot, i'm sorry…" you mumble against his lips, dragging your fingers through the unkempt hair of his mohawk.

✹ he drops his head into the juncture of you neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply the scent of you that he's gone so long without. he laughs into you, slightly delirious and just so overjoyed to have you in his arms again that feels his eyes sting with tears.

✹ "i've missed you, bonnie," he chuckles wetly, pressing his lips back to yours in another desperate kiss, "i've missed you so much,"

✹ "i'll never forget you again."

ghost

✹ he avoids you like the plague.

✹ or he tries to, at least. but truth be told, after spending so much time learning to be vulnerable around you and allowing you into his guarded heart, it's difficult to go back to being a stranger to you.

✹ that, and he doesn't actually want to.

✹ but he needs to. being around you, the love of his life, knowing that you don't remember him, it's like a knife stuck between his ribs. any time he's in the same room as you he finds himself fighting the urge to grab your hand, or press his forehead against you.

✹ he knows you don't want him anymore, the last thing you deserve is a giant of a man – who you're clearly afraid of, even if you won't say it – hanging around you like a shadow.

✹ you're still kind to him, because of course you are, checking in on him and trying to talk to him any opportunity you get. it's nice, sometimes he can even pretend everything is normal when he shares a laugh with you, but then he sees the hesitance in your eyes and he's brought back to the cold reality of the situation.

✹ the weeks drag like this, every fleeting look from you another bleeding wound on his heart.

✹ he keeps it together surprisingly well, all things considered, but the breaking point comes when you find him having a smoke one night, on a bench just outside the barracks.

✹ "simon?" your voice cuts through the silence, his eyes snapping to you as you sit down next to him. he takes another long drag from his cigarette as he watches you, uncertainty in your voice as you continue, "can you tell me about… me? and us?"

✹ no matter how much he thinks he should, he can't look away from your pleading gaze.

✹ "we… you're everything to me," simon mutters, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with the heel of his boot, "i've never felt the way i do with you before, you've helped me more than you could ever know…"

✹ his vision blurs with unshed tears. the sadness on your face starts and ache in his heart, the desire to take you into his arms and just hold you making his skin bristle.

✹ "you don't have to feel the same way, but…" he pulls the balaclava from his head, setting it on the bench in the space between you, bearing his face to you like he always does, "even if you never get your memory back, i'll always love you."

✹ the way you look at him makes it so incredibly difficult not to cry. your eyes are glassy and far away, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth with an expression that screams guilt – but it's not your fault, and he'd never blame you.

✹ you open your mouth to say something, but the words never materialise. the night stays silent, and simon expects it, but it still makes his bones ache with a heaviness that he knows he can't shake.

✹ he stands, picking up his balaclava, and walks quietly past you to the barracks door. there's no fleeting look, not this time. he disappears to his room without another word.

✹ he's not sure how much later it is when he hears a knock on his door. minutes, hours, it didn't matter. it all blends together now.

✹ when he doesn't bother to answer, whoever it is lets themselves in, shutting the door gently behind themselves. he sits up with the intention of chewing them out, but when he opens his eyes they land on your form, curled in on yourself and shuffling quickly over to him.

✹ you're here, in his room, with a face that looks like you've been crying for hours, puffy and tear-stained with bloodshot eyes.

✹ he almost thinks he's dreaming, but the warmth as you wrap your arms around him and bring his face to your chest is too real, too familiar. he brings his arms up  around your waist, releasing a shaky sigh into your skin as he squeezes you tighter against him.

✹ a few hot tears meet the top of his head as you whisper to him the words he's been waiting, longing to hear, rocking gently from side to side.

✹ "i remember, si."

✹ it feels like he can finally rest, like the state of being he's been living in for the last few months melts away with your touch and he feels safe again.

✹ with his grip around your waist, he hoists you onto his bed to lay back down with him, holding you tightly against his chest, your heart right beside his own racing one.

✹ you cradle his face again, pressing your lips to his face over and over, touching every inch of him with your love.

✹ "i'm sorry…" you whisper like a mantra, punctuating every kiss with an apology that makes his throat constrict with the raw emotion he feels. "i'm sorry,"

✹ "don't be…" he mirrors how you hold his face, tangling his legs with yours as he captures your mouth and pours every ounce of passion he has into the way he kisses you. "don't be, love."

[hy6erion]

Absolutely desperate for more filthy horny reader content. WHERE THE PERVERT READERS AT!?

- Specifically Viktor finding out that their lil innocent lab assistant seems to not actually be so innocent and has a problem "borrowing" Viktors things and so he finally decides to confront them about it. Would be a real shame if he bent them over his knee and spanked them as punishment till they were a sobbing babbling mess and then proceed fuck them stupid…a real shame indeed -COUGH-

Stolen and Punished — Viktor x Reader

synopsis: viktor discovers his seemingly innocent lab assistant is a pervert who’s been stealing his things. after a humiliating spanking, she still doesn’t learn—so he punishes her again, this time by edging her to tears in his lap.

cw: nsfw, fem! reader, pervert! reader, d/s dynamics, mean! viktor, spanking, humiliation, degrading, edging, begging, calling him sir (😭)

a/n: please dont mind that I it changed a bit 🙏🏼 hope u can still enjoy it :P

Your thighs burn. Your face is hot and your voice is hoarse from sobbing into your arm, stretched over the desk you usually take notes on. But tonight, you’re not writing data. You’re not documenting Hextech tests. You’re bare from the waist down, stretched over Viktor’s lap, and every inch of your skin feels like it’s glowing with shame and heat.

How this happened?

Simple.

He found your drawer.

Or rather—he broke the lock on your locker after he noticed things of his kept disappearing. One shirt. Then two. His lab tie. And more. You thought you were clever, hiding them away in a zippered pouch labeled “personal items.”

But Viktor? He’s not stupid. And you’re not as sneaky as you thought.

“You really thought I wouldn’t notice” he murmurs, fingers dragging across the curve of your ass, feather-light. “My clothing slowly vanishing… and you always smelling like my cologne?”

He tsks, his touch drifting lower, to the spot just beneath your cheek, where the soft skin meets thigh.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

SMACK

The slap lands with no warning. A clean, open-palm strike that ripples through your body and rings in your ears. You jolt with a broken gasp, pressing your thighs together. But Viktor just sighs and uses his knee to shift them apart again.

“Don’t do that” he says, his voice calm but firm. “You’ll keep them open. Understood?”

You nod—choking on the breath that stutters out of you. “Y-Yes…”

“Yes what?” His voice darkens instantly.

You swallow, shame flushing high in your throat. “Y-Yes, sir.”

He hums. Pleased. His hand coasts lazily over your tender skin. “Good girl.”

SMACK.

Another one. Sharper. You can feel your skin giving under the force now, blood rushing to the surface. He doesn’t let you recover—his palm returns again, again, each slap a precise punishment meant to sting. Measured. Methodical.

You’re gasping now, tears slipping hot down your cheeks. Not just from pain—but from the way it makes your whole body hum, your stomach fluttering, your thighs trembling as the heat spreads across your skin.

“Tell me what you did” Viktor says softly, hand resting heavy on the small of your back. “I want to hear it. Every detail. Every disgusting little thing you thought I’d never find out.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. But the words come out anyway, shamefully wet, broken between breaths.

“I—I took your shirts. I slept in them. T-Touched myself in them—”

SMACK

You wail, jerking forward. The burn makes your thighs twitch.

“And?” he prompts, unhurried.

Your voice hitches. “I wore your tie under my clothes… in the lab. It smelled like you. I—I kept your stuff—used them—and I thought about you while—while—”

SMACK

It cracks against the underside of your ass—raw and flushed. You sob outright now, hiccuping with the humiliation of it all, drool wetting the crook of your arm.

“You filthy thing” Viktor breathes, the roughness in his voice betraying how much this is affecting him. “I gave you a position in my lab. I trusted you.”

You nod helplessly, whimpering.

“And this is how you repay me?” He grabs a fistful of your hair and gently tugs your head back so you’re forced to look at him over your shoulder. “With secret orgasms and ruined underwear stuffed in your locker?”

Your lips tremble. “I’m sorry—I didn’t— I just—”

“You just what?” he snaps.

“I couldn’t help it…” you whisper.

He stares at you for a long, heavy moment. Then—he lets go. Pushes your head gently down again. And with a sigh, slides his hand between your thighs.

You twitch violently. His knuckles glide over slick skin.

“Pathetic” he murmurs.

You sob, hips shivering. “I know—I’m sorry—!”

He chuckles—low and amused, but not kind. “No. You’re not. You’re enjoying this far too much.”

His hand lifts.

SMACK

You cry out, the sound shameless and high, echoing off the walls of the lab. It lands square on the most tender part of your ass, and your whole body flinches from the force of it.

“You’re not innocent at all, are you?” he murmurs. “All that shy eye contact. Helping me with my notes. Laughing like some bashful little thing at my compliments.”

You hiccup through your tears. “I-I wanted you to notice…”

Another pause.

And then, slowly, you feel him lean in, his chest pressed against your spine. His breath warms the shell of your ear.

“Well” Viktor whispers, “you got my attention now.”

His hand slides up your back again, fingertips teasing over your spine, then slipping back down to your bruised ass. He traces the lines of each handprint.

“I should make you stay like this for hours” he says. “Arched over my knee, dripping like a bitch in heat. Let you think about what you’ve done.”

You mewl softly, your thighs slick and sticky where they press together. You feel so raw. So open. Your entire body hums with tension.

SMACK

You jerk forward again, breath breaking in your throat. That one hurt. But it leaves a heat that makes your clit throb with need, your hips grinding down before you can stop yourself.

Viktor laughs. A warm, cruel sound.

“Can’t help yourself, can you? So desperate you’re rutting against my thigh like a needy little animal.”

You wail into the desk. “I-I’m sorry—I c-can’t—”

SMACK

Another strike. And another. You lose count.

By the time he slows, your skin is bright with flushed heat, handprints like painted stains across your ass and thighs. You’re sobbing, face wet, hips twitching involuntarily with every shift of his lap beneath you.

Viktor strokes your back softly, at odds with the harshness of before. “That’s better,” he murmurs. “There she is. My good little lab assistant. All flushed and well-behaved again.”

You whimper.

“Next time” he says, “if you want something of mine…” He brushes your ruined panties back up with care, fingers ghosting over your inner thigh as he tucks the fabric into place, “…you’ll ask.”

You nod, broken. “Y-Yes, sir.”

He helps you sit up, cradling your hips as you wince from the movement. His eyes trail over your tear-streaked cheeks, the wet shine on your thighs.

“Good girl” he murmurs, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

Then, with a dark smile:

“Now clean yourself up. You look like a mess.”

You thought he wouldn’t find out again.

That you’d learned to be sneakier.

Quieter. More discreet.

But when you opened your locker this morning, expecting your stash to be safe and undisturbed, there was a folded note waiting inside. Neat handwriting. Sharp pen strokes. A single line:

My office. Now.

Now you’re in his lap again—but not the way you daydream about.

Viktor doesn’t even look at you.

His jaw is set. His eyes are on the opposite wall, and his grip around your waist is firm—stern fingers pressing into the dip of your back, forcing your spine straight, your legs spread wide on either side of his.

“Third time” he says, voice low and cold, vibrating through your thighs where they sit flush to his. “Third. And I was going to be merciful.”

You open your mouth—but the look he gives you slices through any excuse before it can form.

“Don’t even try it” he mutters. “I found my handkerchief in your drawer. Ruined. My undershirt—again. And a photo of me. Where did you even get that, hm?”

You can’t speak. You just squirm. The shame sits low in your stomach, curling like a knot, especially when you feel the shape of him under you—hard beneath the fabric of his trousers. He hasn’t moved you an inch since pulling you down onto his lap, but the threat in his stillness is clear.

“You like being punished” Viktor says, almost to himself. “The spanking only got you wetter. You want me to lose patience.”

His hand slides from your back down to your hip, then between your legs—finding you wet already through your panties. He breathes in slowly, then gives a hollow, humorless laugh.

“See?” he murmurs. “Dripping.”

You whimper softly. His fingers rub in slow, maddening circles over the soaked fabric, just enough pressure to make you roll your hips without thinking—just enough to make your clit throb.

“Desperate little thief” he whispers. “You just can’t help yourself.”

Your breath hitches. “P-Please—”

But his hand stops.

He stills everything. Even his breath.

“No” he says. “No, no. Not yet. You don’t get to beg.”

You try not to squirm. But you can’t help it. Sitting on his lap like this—needy and humiliated—makes it impossible to stay still. Especially when he finally begins to move his fingers again, slow and cruel, brushing over the damp fabric without mercy.

“You’ll sit right here” he says softly. “And you’ll take everything I give you. But you will not come. Do you understand?”

You nod frantically. “Y-Yes—yes, sir—”

His hand grabs your throat. Not tight. Just a warning squeeze as he brings his lips near your ear.

“Say it properly.”

Your thighs quake. “I’ll take everything you give me, sir. I won’t come.”

A low sound vibrates in his chest—pleased. And then he does reward you: fingers pushing the soaked fabric aside, slipping into the heat between your folds. Just the pads of two fingers, circling your clit. Featherlight. Over and over and over.

You choke on a gasp, already twitching. His other hand holds your hip down to keep you from rocking forward too much.

“Look at you” he murmurs. “Soaked and shaking just from this. If I dipped my fingers in, I’d drown.”

You whine, high and broken. Your clit pulses under every stroke, the pressure building too fast to make sense. You press your face into his collar, hot tears forming as your legs begin to tremble.

“Sir—I can’t—I need—”

“No” he says, and stops.

Your whole body jerks. A strangled sob escapes you—raw and pathetic. Your hips grind down helplessly against his thigh, but he doesn’t move.

“Did I tell you you could come?”

“N-No—”

“Then stop whining.”

You clamp your mouth shut. Your thighs twitch again. He starts again.

Slower. Meaner.

Two fingers now, circling your clit in tight, precise movements. Every time you start to shake—every time your breath breaks or your hips twitch—he stops. Holds you there. Lets your body flutter with the emptiness of it. Lets the orgasm sit on the edge and wither.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Your slick is coating the inside of your thighs now, soaking into his pants. You’re crying in earnest—hot, breathless sobs that leave you choking. Not just from the frustration—but the shame. You can feel how desperate you are. Feel how your cunt clenches around nothing. How your body writhes for him. How you’re being turned into a pathetic mess without even getting off.

“You’re going to remember this” Viktor whispers. “Every time you touch something of mine again. Every time you lie. You’ll remember what it felt like to be made a useless little toy.”

You sob again, your lips brushing the side of his neck. “Please—please—sir—!”

“Do you think you deserve to come?”

“I—I don’t know—”

“Wrong answer.”

He slaps your clit. Just once. One wet, sharp slap to the swollen bundle of nerves, and your body jerks like it’s been shocked. It doesn’t hurt—it burns. The frustration bubbles up your spine, tears spilling fast now.

He starts again.

Softer this time. Barely touching. But you feel everything. Every flick. Every stroke. And your thighs twitch uncontrollably, your hips bucking, your pussy fluttering around emptiness with a sobbing gasp.

“I feel you clenching” he murmurs. “You’re close again.”

You nod wildly.

“Beg.”

You whimper. “Please, sir—please, I—I need it—I need to come so bad—please—”

“Say you’ll be good.”

“I’ll be good—! I swear—I’ll never steal again—”

“You said that last time.”

“I mean it this time—! Please—I’ll do anything—”

He strokes once more. One final, devastating flick.

And stops.

Your orgasm dies on impact.

You scream, clutching at his shirt, soaking the front of his trousers with slick and tears and drool and sweat. You’re shaking like a leaf, your thighs spasming, your clit swollen and throbbing with denied pleasure.

“I—please—I c-can’t—I can’t take any more—!”

Viktor just holds you.

Silent.

Unmoving.

“You don’t get to come” he says quietly, brushing your hair from your face. “You didn’t earn it.”

Your entire body trembles in his arms.

“Maybe next time” he adds, voice like velvet and iron, “if you ask first—before stealing—you’ll be treated like something other than a needy, filthy brat.”

He kisses your temple once.

Then he lifts you, gently, and sets you down on your knees in front of him.

“Now sit” he commands. “Hands on your thighs. And be still.”

You obey. Bare, swollen and soaked—your ruined cunt twitching between your thighs. Tears dry on your cheeks. You don’t dare move.

Viktor just watches you with cold, quiet satisfaction.

“Maybe I’ll let you come tomorrow” he muses. “Maybe I won’t.”

[lieslab]

Our skin starts to rot

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Changbin X gn reader

Summary: You're struggling with recovering from the physical abuse in a past romantic relationship.

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 2K

Trigger warning: Domestic abuse, broken bones, and violence.

Domestic violence/abuse resources

_ _ _

“But if the relationship was so bad, why didn’t you leave?” 

Everyone loves to throw the blame to the victim. As if the perpetrator's manipulative actions and threats didn’t send you over the edge. Because if you’re a victim of someone, people forget the actions that led you there. Things rot and everyone forgets that not everyone has such a perfect mindset. 

In the beginning, it started off as every relationship does. New beginnings, soft touches, and the honeymoon phase. Kisses that went from seconds to minutes. Grasping one another’s skin and whispered confessions. Date nights turned into weekend stays. 

Love bloomed between the two of you before it all came crashing down. It wasn’t like this at first. Before the violence, your lion was a lamb. You thought nothing could go wrong, but then it happened. 

The heat of the moment kind of thing. Harsh words were thrown your way. They clung to your heart like daggers. Just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, you were struck. The one thing you were afraid of, it actually happened. 

Their hand clipped your cheek and you hit the ground stunned. Disbelief highlighted your face and you couldn’t believe what happened. They gasped and reached out to you. Apologies spewed and when they swore it’d never happened again, you believed them. Why wouldn’t you? You liked them. 

And then it became more regular. They’d get angry and you’d tense up. A hand would fly. A fist flung through the air. You were shoved back and hit the ground hard. Each time, the tension would fade and they’d apologize. 

If any apology wasn’t given to you, they pretended it never happened. At first, it followed with a present the next day. Your favorite candy or flowers. Something small and simple, a silent vow to change, but it never did. 

The cycle of abuse locked its jaws on you and you didn’t know how to get out until it was too late. The steel-toed boots cracked your ribs. You remembered it like it was yesterday. 

The crunch hit your ears. You felt the shifting of your ribs and then you couldn’t breathe. They kicked you so hard, a broken rib jutted through your lung and punctured it. Laying on the floor, gasping through wheezes, you thought you were a goner. 

Each breath felt like breathing through a straw. Even with one inflated lung, you couldn’t get enough air. No matter how much you tried, the gasps wouldn’t stop. You crawled on the floor and they slammed the door leaving you alone. By the time paramedics arrived, you were barely conscious. 

Tears soaked your cheeks and the gasps wouldn’t stop. Your ribs turned a plum purple and dark blue. Your scalp hurt from where they grabbed a fistful of your hair. When the paramedics alerted the police, it didn’t matter. You tried to describe the misunderstanding. 

Groomed to be submissive, it was not the first time they found a victim of domestic abuse. It wouldn’t be the last time either. You sobbed through the cop writing down the incident report. You weren’t sure why. They hurt you and deserved to be punished for such violence. Yet, alone in the hospital room, you felt like an asshole for calling the paramedics. 

No matter how much you tried to ignore it, that guilt made a home in your heart. That abuse haunted you into your next relationship. Changbin had suspicions about your past, but he promised himself that he’d never bring it up until you did. He figured you’d bring it up when you were ready. 

On a Saturday night, he prepped for your usual movie night. The two of you agreed on a movie from a streaming service. You each gathered your favorite snacks, he popped popcorn, and the two of you would spend minutes getting lost in a fictional world. Because of that, Saturday held a slot in his heart for his favorite day of the week. Those nights were the two of you alone. It grew to become special to him. 

On Saturday night, he came back home after going to pick-up your favorite takeout. He didn’t know what you were struggling with internally, but he knew it was becoming an issue for you. You grew quieter than usual. Your usual spunk and fun personality faded over the past few days. He caught glimpses of it here and there, but then it fell away. Like you remembered something internally and then emotionally shut down. 

He kicked off his shoes, tightened his grip on the bag, and called out your name. “Honey, I’m home! I brought our favorite goods! Where are you? Come eat! I’m starving!” 

Soaked in streams of salty tears, you didn’t leave your spot from the couch. Trapped in your own head, you didn’t hear him come inside. You didn’t take notice until he stepped into the living room with a grin. “I’m home and I-” That grin faded when he saw your teary eyes. “What’s wrong?” 

“Do you think sometimes people are more flawed than they realize?” You whispered. 

“I think everyone is flawed in certain ways, yes. We’re human, we’re all going to have flaws.” Afraid you’d pull away, he slowly sunk into the leather couch. “I don’t think that makes some people bad or anything. I think we’re all different for a reason and that’s just how it is.” 

“You’re not like my ex.” 

“Is that good or bad?” 

“I think it’s good.” Your hand brushed away fresh leaking tears. “I have to ask you something and I want you to answer it honestly.” 

“Okay?” 

“Why don’t you beat me?” 

His head jerked towards you with wide eyes. “Why d-don’t I what? Beat you?” His eyebrows furrowed. “Why would I-” 

You shrugged. “Maybe I deserve it. I think a lot about the things that happened in my past relationship. Maybe I was too mouthy and deserved to be hit. Maybe I really did deserve to be put in my place.” 

It broke his heart to hear you speak about yourself in such a way. “Why do you think that?” 

“They said they loved me. I-I know I was annoying at times and maybe I just-” 

“Stop,” he whispered. He reached out and gently placed his hand on your knee. “Don’t say that about yourself. Don’t say that you deserved it. Don’t ever think that for a second. Nobody deserves to be assaulted for the way that they are.” 

“I can’t help it. What if they were just trying to turn me into a better person? What if-” 

“No, sweetheart.” His head shook. His heart shattered and he reached out to you. “Why do you think you deserved it? What makes you feel that way?” 

“Every time I acted a certain way, it stopped. When I stopped talking back, when I stopped questioning their motives, when I stopped trying to get away when things escalated.” 

“Whoever you dated, they were an asshole.” He reached out and gently tugged you towards his body. “You’re the most precious person I’ve ever known. I’m sorry you went through something so awful. I’m not going to sit here and pretend like you deserved any of that.” “I don’t care what you did. I don’t care if you yelled. I don’t care if you made a minor mistake. No matter what you did, you didn’t deserve to have a hand put on you. That’s not okay and it never will be.” 

“I feel so guilty. I got them put in jail. What if I really did deserve it?” 

“You didn’t.” 

“But I-” 

“I will fight you on this for the entire evening. I don’t know what they told you. I don’t know what they brainwashed you into believing, but you are perfect the way you are, in my eyes. Please believe me when I say that. You are wonderful, kind, and the sweetest person I know.” 

“They took advantage of that and I will always hate them for it.” His eyes studied yours. He didn’t know what you were thinking, but he hoped you were listening to his words. “Don’t think for a single second that you deserved any of that.” 

“For as long as we’re together, I’ll never do that. We’re adults and we’re going to act like it. If we’re at two different sides of an issue, we’ll talk it out. Getting angry and hitting one another, it doesn’t do anything besides hurt one another.” 

“I just don’t like feeling so worthless.” 

“Sweetheart, you’re not worthless.” He reached up, carefully wiped his thumb beneath your eyes, and pulled away. “You’re healing from trauma and that’s not going to happen overnight. I know you’re struggling now, but just say the words and I’ll remind you of how much I love you. It’s not a burden for me to remind you of how much I care about you.” 

You sniffled and nodded. 

“Can I hug you now?” 

You nodded again. He leaned forward and wrapped you up tight in a hug. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re the strongest person I know, even if you don’t feel like it. I love you.” His muscles wrapped you in warmth. In his arms, for once, you felt safe. 

“I love you, too.” 

“I was going to put on a comedy, but now I feel like I should put on a horror movie. When you get too scared, I can hold you tight and keep the monsters away. Nobody is going to touch my baby when I’m around. I’ve got loaded guns.” 

“You own firearms?” 

He pulled away and flexed his muscles. “These are the only loaded guns I’ll ever need.” 

“You’re silly.” 

“They’d come in clutch if your ex comes around here. I’ll give them the old one-two.” He punched the air a few times and flexed again. “How’d you like that, sucker?” 

“You’d really fight them for me?” 

“I’d fight an ant for your love.” 

“What an honor.” 

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” 

Through Changbin, you found a steady island in the middle of foamy white waves. No matter how much life tossed your way, you stood with your head held high. You clung to him desperately and tried to believe that everything would figure itself out. 

Through the slips of guilt, he appeared with a smile. A ray of sunshine cut through your darkest days. You couldn’t explain why or how. You didn’t know how he managed to reshape and restitched your heart, but he did. 

No matter how lost your brain grew and how far it strained from reality, he kept it on a leash. When the waterworks shed, when you doubted self worth, he slowly coaxed and wrangled you back into his arms. Someone had to look out for you. 

What is love, if not to comfort and heal the hurt within each of our hearts? To heal the rot from the inside out. Put together each piece of a shattered heart. Not in a perfect way, but in a way that makes living a little more manageable. 

Trading whispered secrets and memories. Healing the hurt through touches. Helping each other inch up the mountain of life, rather than grab your ankle and throw you back to the ground. No matter how perfect your mindset is, no matter how much it's ingrained in you, you’re not immune to manipulation. 

It starts with one thing and continues to escalate. Too afraid to leave. Too afraid to rock the boat. Over and over again, you drowned in your previous relationship for months. After the perpetrator faced serious fines and jail time, none of it fixed the wounds in your heart. 

Changbin did. Through the tears and sniffles. Through the self-deprecating anxiety and the suffocating moments, Changbin reappeared. When your skin burned, when the smoky fumes of the past became a blaze, he appeared to put out the fire. 

For you, he always would; anything for you, no matter how difficult the task might be. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @danihwang882 @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght @chrizrizz

Masterlist

Taglist and inbox rules

Ko-fi

[bentosnackbox]

“Girl, just let me know / We can take it slow.”

lyrics: “Break from Toronto” *(2013 – PARTYNEXTDOOR

part one

MENTIONS : situationship, mentions of sex, gojo, suguru and shoko r also in the same age range, unprotected sex, pussydrunk!megumi, backshots, ghosting, alcohol, blunts, partying, college AU, fratboy megumi kinda..?, sexting, cursing, athlete megumi, pro basketball player megumi.

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ IN THIS AU !!

DISCLAIMER : MDNI ( i’m not responsible of what you see on the internet, but still cmon guys let’s not lmao)

guys this is my first time writing a fic… like ever!! so don’t expect it to be good i’m still working on it lol.

also if u see me make a grammar mistake it’s cuz english isn’t my first language, so there will be some mistakes sadly 🫩

i plan on writing more fics if this blows up or i get comments n likes asking for more… anyways !!

there will be more parts cuz i’m too lazy too put everything in one part lmao sorry

master list: part one, part two, part thee

12 PM CAMPUS NEWYEARS PARTY | January 1st 2025

“you like that? you like when i hit it like that? yeah i know you love this dick baby girl.”

i let out a moan as he hits that sweet g spot religiously over and over again knowing how much i love it.

“who got the best dick girl? c’mon talk to me baby.”

“you do gumi!!” i scream out moaning while he gives me the best backshots ever.

“good girl” he groans as he comes inside earning a moan from me.

just as i’m about to come on his dick i hear a knock on the bathroom door with satorus voice coming through

“what y’all doing in there? c’mon out”

i look at megumi with wide eyes and put my panties back up with my mini skirt, not even bothering to clean up.

he pulls his boxers and purple jeans back up.

i turn to megumi “what the fuck do we do now?”

“relax baby girl s’ not like we’re in a relationship anyway, we’re just friends making each other feel good.”

just friends.

just friends.

just friends?

oh so this meant nothing to him? i was just one of his side bitches?

i get it we’re best friends since 6th grade and have been inseparable ever since

fucking each other wasn’t anything new

but the first time we actually did it was in the first year of college at his house

his girlfriend of a month cheated on him and he found out over a leak of her fucking his best friend yuji got sent around

i came over to help him get over her and watch a movie

little did i know i would get my pussy eaten

also i knew megumi was gorgeous and a player but damn this shit actually felt real for once

atleast for me.

“yeah right, um just friends” i say snapping back into reality as i notice i zoned out

he gives me a smirk and kiss on the cheek before finally opening the door

satoru is standing infront of the door, drink in hand waiting for us to open up

“the fuck were yall doing?”

“none of ur business” megumi says smirking and rolling his eyes shoving him out the way while dragging me behind him

we walk over to the drink bar and sit down on the stools

“watcha wanna drink baby?”

baby? after he said we’re just friends? and he says it like it means something

am i going fucking crazy????

“a piña colada please” i give him a fake smile, not like he can tell a difference from what’s fake and real

he’s rubbing my thigh up and down as we wait for the drinks

“gumi?”

“yeah baby?”

“i gotta use the toilet real quick”

“aight baby don’t take too long tho”

i never came back tho.

i ran back to my dorm in 6 inch heels tripping on the way there crying all the way there

mascara smudged, lashes falling off, wig a little lopsided

what the actual fuck ?? like cut the cameras bitch

who does this nigga think he is?

i block his number on messages, block his ig and twitter

best thing to do right now is focus on myself and keep my life clean

after all it was a new year’s resolution of mine.

______

06:00 PM talking with my roommate about the situation to recover | January 19th 2025

“omg he’s such a bastard”

i nod sobbing as i eat my ben and jerry’s ice cream while gossiping with my bestie a.k.a shoko!

we’re having our monthly gossip rant session in our matching bonnets, doing face masks while eating ice cream

i haven’t heard from him since the night it happend prob cuz i blocked him lol

and maybe that’s for the better.

for both of us

he isn’t around campus much ever since he got a deal to get signed to the memphis grizzlies in summer of last year

the only times he’s around is when there’s party’s or a holiday coming up.

“and he proceeded to say ‘we’re just friends’ baby you deserve someone better. need me to beat his ass?” shoko said ready to throw hands

i giggle “girl no it’s okay really-”

i get interrupted by a text message notification

unknown number

| can we talk now?

| are you done being mean?

no. fucking. way.

i stare at my phone with wide eyes not even listening to shoko rant about how annoying her classmates are and she notices

“everything okay y/n?”

i show her the message

“it’s megumi. i recognize his texts from a mile away”

but

how tf did he get my number.

shoko sees my anxiety kicking in again by the way i’m biting my nails right now

“calm down y/n, just ghost him it’ll work out trust me”

i nod ignoring his text messages

i ignored him.

oh i tried ignoring him.

but turns out he’s down bad

like the yearning type.. yup

______

10:18 AM on the following Monday | January 22nd 2025

i’ve been getting non stop no caller id calls

like non. fucking. stop

it’s crazy

new messages came through

unknown number

| stop fucking ignoring me deadass

| that’s fucking annoying.

fuck.

i’m in the middle of a lecture and he’s texting me?

shit i gotta think quick

“calm down y/n, just ghost him it’ll work out trust me”

and so i ghost him for the next 2 days until…

______

06:26 PM Wednesday in my dorm | January 24th 2025

shoko is out on a work dinner

and i’m bed rotting in my bonnet watching love island on my macbook

“they did my girl huda so fucking dirty!!”

i say as i’m eating my ben and jerry’s cookie dough ice cream again

*i get another message*

unknown number

| you haven't been texting me or calling me at all

| what the hell's your problem?

shit

wait can he see that i read his messages?

since shoko isn’t here to stop me i decide to text back

| i need some space

| from everyone, it's not just you

read 06.38 pm

he texts back almost in the blink of an eye

| SPACE????

| bitch if u wanted space you should've been an astronaut

| answer the goddamn Phone when i call you.

shit he’s mad.

NOTE : guys comment if y/n should pick up or ghost lmao

i enjoyed making this kinda fun tbh

again first time making a fan fic so don’t judge ok..

[threepandas]

Bad End: Kept Safe

[Art by Miu_A]

You ever give someone advice, knowing full well they aren't going to take it? Even AFTER they have begged and pleaded and WHINED at you, for hours, for it? Even after they poured their heart and soul out to you? And you, a good friend, carefully and tactfully, tried your best to help? LIKE THEY ASKED?

Ever find yourself the designated "run too dramatically weep in the arms off" friend?

I have.

It is hell. I am in hell.

This is my punishment for all those hours I spent reading and playing Otome Isekai junk instead of, I don't know, solving world hunger or something. Because it HAS to be. I am clearly being punished. Repeatedly. By some sort of petty, petty, anime God.

Fuck you too, buddy.

A fresh round of highly dramatic Protagonist sobbing peirces the air. Dear lord, she has a set of lungs on her, does she? It's like an air siren. But more... upset toddler. It was bizarre. I'd LIKED her as a character. I HAD. Bright and cheerful, determined with a good heart. She'd been a bit naive, yes, but she'd grown. Love had changed her for the better.

But THIS?

This was some middle school "he threw away my secret note, that I didn't sign, so that means he HATES MEEEEE~" bullshit. It went on and on and ON! God, it'd been MONTHS! Years!

I made friends with the Protagonist when we were in The Royal Academy. The story's setting. It SHOULD have finished by graduation. SHOULD. HAVE. But DID it? No! This nonsense had spilled into the COURT! The general population! Actual political factions were starting to get involved!

All because my "friend" COULDN'T PICK A MAN.

And she didn't listen. I tried. God, how I TRIED! No matter HOW I phrased "just fucking TALK to them" it didn't get through her dense fucking skull. I tried taking a break. To calm down. She HUNTED ME DOWN with her little Harem of political trainwrecks!

That poor port city STILL has yet to recover from the chaos they unleashed.

I don't... God, I don't even LIKE her anymore. I've just been reduced to her HANDLER. Forced into girlish tea parties devoid of any taste, because no one ELSE will come. Followed by winces and pitying looks by every lady in all of polite society. The sacrifice to keep HER distracted, lest her gaurd dogs decide its a good idea to do something unhinged again.

It's exhausting.

I'm not even listening.

She seems to have worked through her usual cycle of "cry, mope, what about meeeee~, then I going to go be Plucky at them! Tee Hee~♡!". Good, good. You go have fun, you little train wreck. I'm going to go find an actual ADULT to hide behind.

I have my maids change me out of an outfit that, frankly? I am too old for. I am not sixteen. We are not GIRLS, for the heaven's sake. We are WOMEN. It was a cute outfit. I enjoyed wearing it, back when I was physically young enough that it was appropriate. But even THEN... that's the down side of the whole "isekai" thing.

You keep your mental age.

Everyone around you? INFANTS. Fresh faced babies. You are being flirted with by fourteen year olds and? It is DISGUSTING. They can never be anything more then "cute kids" to you. The characters you once thirsted over? Reduced to actual, living, breathing, pre-schoolers.

There's no going back after that. I'll NEVER unsee it. Can only continue to age, even as they simply... grow up. And then? When they started behaving like FOUR YEAR OLDS? Forget it! I'm beginning to share my parents fears I may die single.

At least I have a refuge. A place of SANITY and SENSE.

I grab the imported wine I had purchased. I'd noticed him drink it before on special occasions. Found a tea seller that was willing to also bring some back. Mother LOVED the tea and my friend was going to love the wine, I could just tell.

Cautiously poking my head out of the guest apartments i was staying in, I checked the hall. Left. Right. Left. Thank god. No Protagonist in sight, she hasn't come back yet. Better hurry though.

I walk fast and keep close to the wall. Ducking into alcoves at every new female voice. Passing servants, Nobles, and the occasional Knight either murmur what they know of Protagonist's last known location or politely pretend not to see me. For anyone else, this would be scandalous behavior. For ME? Well... everyone knew EXACTLY why I was being driven to such extremes.

I thankfully reached the governance wing unmolested. It was far quite and none of the pack of fools ever really set foot here. Not ever the ones who were SUPPOSED to be busy learning their future roles as leaders of this country. God, I could only hope the third prince somehow quietly pulls a coup.

Not that I'd SAY that.

The gaurds don't even bother to announce me, I'm here so often. Merely opening the door. I maintain my decorum none the less. JUST long enough for the doors to finally close and I am able to drop my social mask like whipping of my bra after a long day. Oh thank fuuuuuuck. FREEDOM!

A familiar chuckle, like incense smoke, wafts from the second floor of the office.

"Oh my~, so tired?" My friend muses, his voice that ever lilting purr. I hear him closing whatever heavy tome he's currently studying. "And so early in the DAY! Was it the little nuisance again? Surely she must have SOMETHING better to do?"

Gently putting the wine I'm gifting him on his desk, I then throw up my arms. You would THINK! Wouldn't you?! It's an old complaint. And frankly? I'm glad he still let's me vent about it. It HAS to get old. Yet? He let's me complain anyway.

I met the, roughly translated, "Keeper Of The Shield" at one of the Crown Prince's many ridiculous parties. I was dragged along as Protagonist's plus one. Because GOD FORBID she bring one of her suitors! That might lean towards CHOICE! Can't have THAT!

It was an overly dramatic, gaudy, slow motion trainwreck from beginning to end. I? Got very, VERY drunk. I knew I shouldn't. It was wildly inappropriate. But I was HORRIFIED. Hid near the balconies and drank to forget. Contemplating jumping.

Was likely the only one there my age NOT in ten layers of bows and fabric flowers. It was probably why Crevan decide to talk to me. That and the look of abject suffering. He informed that, sadly, the balconies were locked. But if I planned to maim my self to escape, he could probably boost me up enough to reach the upper windows.

I choked on my drink and guffawd like an idiot. It was SUPER flattering. Very pretty. And honestly? The best conversation I'd had in YEARS. He was droll. Witty. Snarky. In just as much hell as I was. We gleefully narrated the drama playing out before us in as cutting a manner as possible. Grown adults, government officals! Behaving like fucking CHILDREN.

Only after, did I learn I had been chatting with the equivalent of the minister of the Defense. THE commander of our nation's defensive forces. All of them. Knights, army, spies. All of it. And the poor man had been dragged from his desk to play party prop by a glorified teenager. I was horrified. Appalled. Fucking OUTRAGED to learn that it was just... normal!

This country was a nightmare! Otome games are HELL. Lacey, sparkly HELL!!!

But at least I had Crevan to keep me sane. He was always willing to listen. Advise when he could. We had HOPED that Protagonist would start maturing... I'd even mentioned it, but it just seemed like she back slid again and again! Trapping me. Isolating me! Ruining my chances to move ON and have a LIFE!

I don't know what went wrong! Is it me? Am I too hand holdy? It's starting to destabilize the country! Not that the royal family even seems to notice! God no, if it weren't for Crevan, the whole PLACE would have collapsed!

I flop down on my couch. Technically it's not "mine", but honestly? He's fooling no one. The man barely had ANY guest furniture before we became friends. It's totally my couch. (He even got a tea table for us, the softy.)

"Oh? A gift? How thoughtful, dear~" It's only months of friendship that keep from jumping these days. I should get that man a BELL. "Would you like some?"

I can't help but huff a laugh. He always looks to PLEASED when he gets the jump on someone. Startles them. A mischievous asshole, that one. Touchy, too. Forever cupping my cheek or earnestly taking my hand. Patting my head. Guiding me by the elbow or shoulder. He has so few friends... I am certain he is touch starved.

A thought occurs to him, as he pours two cups. A sly grin stretching across his face as he turns to offer me a cup. The wine's scent mixes, burning and delicate, with the ever present smells of incense and his favorite herbal cigarettes. Blurring the senses and relaxing. It's a pretty strong drink.

"You KNOW... it just occurs to me! Darling, if you want to avoid that pest? Why not spend the day HERE? I'd love to have you. " his voice becomes low and serious for a moment, almost catching me off gaurd, bouncing back before I can really think about it. "You could trash my shelves again! Camp out on my couches! It'll be like a little party~ Just you and me! Not a care in the world. You won't have to worry a single thing~"

He grins, glasses catching the light, toothy like the old scheming fox he is.

"I'll keep you nice and safe~"

[ashwhowrites]

Hiiii I’m the anon that sent this: Reader gets broken up with by a guy that she actually really liked but in reality this guy was a douchy football player that was rude to her friends (but she didn’t know about that.)

It was meant to be a request if you’d wanna write it!

And id say that Eddie does have a crush on reader.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

The friend

Y/N waited years and years to fall in love. She grew up watching princesses find their prince, and she wanted to feel that. She wanted to feel loved by someone who chose to, someone who looked at her and would do anything to be with her. Even if he had to fight everyone to do it. She wanted to see what it felt like to be cared about.

To her, Greg did just that. She was smitten with the jockey football player the second he sent her a dazzling smile during a game. It was like his eyes found hers in the crowd, it was fate.

It didn't take long for him to ask her out and for her to say yes immediately. She was swept off her feet and never landed. He was sweet and romantic. He showered her in love and compliments. She thought he was perfect all around.

Eddie and her friends had other thoughts. Greg was two-faced but Y/N wasn't aware of that. Chrissy hated Greg, and she hated cheering for someone like him. He was selfish, cocky, and an ass. It took a lot for Chrissy to dislike someone, and she hated Greg, that meant something.

Eddie had two reasons to hate Greg. One reason was that Greg never had nice things to say to or about Eddie. Greg believed he was trailer dirt and a freak, just like everyone else. But Y/N didn't know that. The second reason was that Eddie was helplessly in love with Y/N.

Did he have the chance to go for it? Definitely but he was terrified. It was scary enough to tell a girl he liked her, but to tell his best friend? He wasn't sure he could handle the rejection.

Eddie and Chrissy grew closer over their dislike for Greg. Chrissy knew Eddie was in love with their best friend before Eddie realized it. Chrissy never understood how Y/N didn't catch on. Eddie was in no way good at hiding it. He stuttered over sentences, clumsier than ever, smiled the second she looked at him, and he'd do anything she asked.

Once Eddie saw her with Greg, he believed that was his sign that they would never be anything more. Eddie and Greg were two completely different people.

When the news broke out that Y/N and Greg broke up after almost a year together, many people had things to say. But no one would say it to her. Eddie felt relieved that his year of suffering was over. But he knew it was a matter of time before some new guy came along. He wasn't sure he could let that happen.

~~~

"I don't understand why he broke up with me," Y/N sobbed. Her head was in Eddie's chest as she soaked his band tee in her tears.

Eddie softly held her in his arms. His chin was on her head as his fingers ran through her hair.

"I don't either, babes." And he was honest. He couldn't imagine ever breaking up with her. She was easily the best person anyone could be with.

"Do you think it's because I'm not pretty enough?" She sniffled, her head facing him as she pulled back away, letting him search her face for the flaws she believed she had.

Eddie smiled and cleaned off her tears with his thumbs. Her red puffy eyes, wet cheeks, and trembling bottom lip. He couldn't lie to her.

"No. I think even right now you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

Eddie was dead serious. A sense of truth in his eyes as he barely blinked. His voice was deep and low, with no sounds of jokes.

The intensity in his face made her nervous and shy. She dug her head back into his warm chest as she held him tighter.

"He's the idiot who let you go."

~~~

Eddie was patient as his best friend recovered from the breakup. Chrissy and Eddie high-fived behind her back, sharing smiles and looks.

"I heard you and Greg broke up! Congratulations that guy was a di-" Dustin's voice was cut off, replaced with a groan.

Y/N turned around confused, Eddie standing next to Dustin with a smile. Dustin held his arm with a whimper.

"Congratulations? What does that mean?" Y/N pushed further.

Eddie and Chrissy looked at each other, trying to think of a fast lie.

"I know someone who likes you! It's a congrats to him!" Dustin said with a smile as he covered his lie. He looked to Eddie for approval and his smile dropped at the look on his face.

"Who?" Y/N perked up. For once, after a long week of crying, she smiled.

"That's not his place to tell. Why don't we go to lunch?" Eddie said, grabbing Dustin's arm and dragging him down the hall.

"That was weird," Y/N said as she turned to Chrissy.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Y/N asked. Chrissy stood with a huge cheesy grin.

Chrissy snapped out of her daydream of Eddie and Y/N finally together. Quick with a lie.

"It's good to see you smile again, now let's go eat."

~~~

Another week passed. Two weeks since her heart was shattered but she could feel herself healing. She had to thank Eddie for all of it. He was always there, holding her as she cried and talking her through everything.

Her mind was still thinking about who Dustin was talking about. The idea of a guy liking her made her feel less insecure. Maybe Greg was the problem and not her. She drew blanks as she tried to think who it was.

She hoped it was Eddie, but that felt like throwing wishes in an empty fountain. She was nowhere Eddie's type. She wasn't edgy enough or listened to the same music he did. She barely understood Hellfire and his ideas. He wasn't much of her type either, but there was something about him that she would never find anywhere else. He was one of a kind and she figured that's why she fell for him so hard.

Eddie never made moves, so she figured he didn't like her. That's why she had no problem going out with Greg. She thought maybe if Eddie showed jealousy, she'd have her answer. But he was just the same, nothing changed.

She was staring at the wall as Eddie woke up from his sleep. His tired eyes took her in. He had his arms around her already, he pressed his chest against her back tighter. She felt her body get warm as his arms squeezed her against him and his face snuggled into her neck. The soft breaths of his nose hitting her skin, his warm body against hers. Do all best friends cuddle in the same bed?

"How long have you been awake?" His deep and tired voice made her bite her lip. She wiggled in his arms, he loosened them as she turned around to face him. She kept herself in his arms, snuggling closer until she was nose to nose-with him.

"I never fell asleep," she whispered

The moon shined into the room, reminding her she had been trying to sleep for hours.

"How come?" He asked, his palm flat against her back as he softly rubbed the bare skin as her tank top slid up. She shivered as his hands touched her skin.

"A lot on my mind," she said truthfully. She admired his eyes. No matter how many times she looked into them, the brown continued to take her breath away. She took in the rest of his face. The bridge of his nose, the red lips she craved to taste. The slight hair growing above his lip, she knew he'd shave in the morning, but she loved being the only one who got to see it. His frizzy hair spread out on her pillows.

"Greg?" Eddie asked, admiring her face the same way she was with his.

"No," Y/N said, "about who that guy is Dustin brought up." She nervously bit her lip as she watched Eddie's reaction.

"Oh, how come?" Eddie asked, he hid his nervousness with a yawn

"Do you know who it is?"

"Uh no," Eddie said his eyes looking elsewhere

"Then why are you looking away?" Y/N smiled, she poked his cheek

He nervously laughed

"I don't know who he is," Eddie said, looking into her eyes as he finished the sentence.

"Such a bad liar! tell me," she squealed excitedly. He groaned as she left his arms. Sitting up, she looked down at him.

"Why do you want to know so bad? Are you ready to move on?" Eddie asked, maybe this was an opening.

"I don't know. Feels nice to know someone else likes me. And depending on who it is, I think I'm ready to give it a shot." She shrugged

"I can't say who it is, but I'll give you some hints." Y/N smiled as Eddie sat up.

"He has dark hair and dark eyes, he admires your beauty. He likes how smart and creative you are. He loves it when you laugh, it makes his heart race. He smiles whenever he thinks of you. And he's been dealing with these feelings for years." Eddie said, too lost in his confession that he was scared he gave too much away.

"So you are close friends with him?" Y/N asked, she turned her head in confusion. She would not believe that any of Eddie's friends had a crush on her.

"I think I said too much," Eddie chuckled nervously and laid back down. His head hit the pillow and he closed his eyes. "Let's go back to sleep."

Y/N thought in silence for a few seconds. She thought long and hard about what he said. The guy he described matched his appearance. Eddie always complimented her looks and laughed at all her jokes. He seemed nervous to talk about the guy, scared he said too much, which meant he was worried she would find it out. He dragged Dustin away when he brought it up, which told her he was worried Dustin would spill the beans.

"Y/N?" Eddie asked, cracking open one eye

It was Eddie

Eddie had a crush on her!

"Y/N" Eddie said again, both eyes open as he went to sit up

But Y/N pushed his body right back down as her lips smashed on his. Eddie's eyes widened in shock as her lips moved against his. Her hands were on his shoulders as she leaned down.

After his shock, he kissed her back. His hands reached up and held her hips. Their kiss grew deeper as Y/N straddled his lap. He sat up, lips still attached to hers. He moved on hand up to her head and pushed her head further into the kiss.

Y/N felt every part of her body light up with electricity. Her hands moved into his hair. Something she spent years wanting to do. His lips tasted better than she imagined. He was soft but controlling. It made her head spin.

Eddie pulled away, his eyes heavy in lust.

"That was...wow." Eddie breathed out, he blinked a thousand times. Believing if he blinked hard enough, this moment would vanish. But to his luck and prayers, she was still on his lap.

"You are the friend," she said, breathy as she still waited for air to return to her lungs

"Uh yeah," Eddie nodded

"Thank god," she smiled before her lips smashed into his again.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

[moviestarmartini]

ella es mi fiesta — jude bellingham x hispanic!reader

es la favorita, la mujer más buena / la que más me gusta de todas las nenas / es la mamacita, se me agua la boca / que no más las miro y todo me provoca.

summary: jude has completed his move to madrid, and while you watch him shine, you've got a wedding to plan.

wc: 3.1k

warnings: wedding!! tried not to specify much so it adapts to everything (methinks), good mother/daughter relationship lol, short nsfw but still 18+, brief female masturbation, unprotected sex (not endorsing it!!!), lots and lots of sappy crying, smau at both the beginning and the end, sentences in spanish, a paragraph in spanish will be translated at the end hehe

previous part

A bigger, brighter spotlight started to shine on your fiancé. 

You knew Jude deserved that and more, and you were more than satisfied with his success. If college wasn’t occupying your nights, you saw him at the Bernabeu whenever you could, preferring to sit outside than inside the VIP boxes to feel la afición you grew up with. Feel that passion and support surrounding you, coursing through your veins. 

Nothing had really changed; you still supported him through thick and thin. You cried when he scored a brace against Barcelona, and held him close after the endless recovery hours when he was injured. The fact he was physically closer only improved your relationship further. 

You never knew how much you needed to have him close by. 

But being at Real Madrid had its disadvantages. You barely got to hang out around campus to avoid people asking too many questions, wanting to know more about your relationship with the golden boy. But most of this chatter wasn't even questions about you or him, they were directed towards your relationship. 

The same comments you’d read on Twitter and his Instagram Posts— not yours, considering you decided to keep your account private for the time being. Things ranging from your age, the time you’ve been dating before the proposal to downright wishing you wouldn’t even make it to the wedding and just cancel the engagement. 

You’d discussed these comments with Jude, and his reassurance was more than enough to keep you at peace about your relationship. But the criticism only made your body burn with the necessity to prove everyone wrong. So you kept your head down, concentrating on your studies and planning the wedding on the side. You had bimonthly reports to Jude about the progress of everything, though Denise had been a godsend this whole time. Any decision you needed an opinion on, she was there to provide the most helpful insight when Jude wasn’t able.  

As he settled into the team, the teammates he grew closer to got to meet you, all of them absolutely adoring you and the pair you made with the englishman. 

“When are we getting our wedding party ask? Cama here wants to be the flower man.” Tchouameni joked, elbowing his fellow french national on the ribs as the group exploded with laughter. 

During one of the international breaks Jude surprised you with his return by joining you during a cake tasting. He wasn’t fully recovered from the injury and was sent back, having taken a few hours off to be with his ‘best girl’— he said himself. 

“Shoo, or I’m going to report to the mister that you’re playing hooky.” You stuck your tongue out while dropping him off at Ciudad Real Madrid for his recovery training. The truth was, you had a dress fitting that afternoon. Your mom, Denise, your cousin and your best friend were in attendance. 

You’d find your dream dress at a boutique in the city center, the streets crowded enough for people to recognize you and snap a few blurry pictures entering the shop. None of those wearing the dress, thank goodness, but by the time you found out people started to realize you and Jude were actually getting married that year, you were too elated to care. The dress fit like a glove, and your mom couldn’t help but sob by seeing you in it. She bought it on the spot without much consideration, and considering you were the only girl in your nuclear home, your mother was going all out for her little girl’s wedding. 

As the temperatures dropped, the planning became more frantic. You had fifty calls to make every single day confirming everything, keeping Jude updated and checking one last time for the RSVPs. As November edged in, you only felt more and more nervous. 

“Are we too insane for this? We should’ve waited for two years from now maybe…” You wondered out loud to Jude as you finished the engagement photoshoot. Brunch was your thing, so it was a playful twist on the theme. 

“Look at me,” He incited, taking your face in his hand. His eyes were full of reassurance, and it always surprised you to see how he never doubted anything for a second. “I’ll do whatever you ask of me. If you want to delay it for fifteen years I’ll wait patiently.” The photographer was already packing up his things, but perked up when he noticed the intimate moment going on. He didn’t interrupt, just taking a few candids. 

His understanding just melted away any doubts instead of reinforcing them. You scooted closer in your chair. “I’m not moving anything. The wedding’s in a month, and I couldn’t be happier.” You cooed, your fiancé humming happily as he kissed your forehead. 

When you received the pictures you came to notice those candids turned out to be your favorites. Not that the others looked bad— on the contrary, you both looked stunning— but they transported you back into that moment full of reassurance and love. 

Before you knew it, the last game of the season transpired, along with your last class before exam season took place in January after your Winter vacations. 

After your wedding. 

For your bachelor and bachelorette parties respectively the two of you decided to celebrate during the day so that night the rehearsal dinner could take place at the same cozy chateau the wedding was taking place the next day. It was more of a mixer than anything else, considering Jude had guests come from all over to the event. All of them you knew, since you both agreed to keep it tight knit on both sides. There had also been a sworn secrecy, you’ve giggled for hours reading Twitter threads speculating when your wedding was taking place when it was literally happening right under their noses. 

It had been an hour or so since the last of the guests either drove home or crossed over to stay at the boutique hotel nearby. Both of your families were sleeping in the other rooms in the venue, but the matrimonial bedroom was left for your solitude. 

“Can’t sleep either, eh?” You turned to Jude’s husky voice from the bedroom door. You got up with a nod, watching as he closed the door behind you. “Anxious?” 

“Definitely.” You agreed, pulling him down and into a hug. “Young bride was not something I ever pictured in my resume but that was before I met you.” You muttered, cupping his face and kissing his forehead. 

Jude observed your movements slowly, feeling the cold white gold against his cheek. He turned his face and kissed your palm before taking it in his hand, kissing your fingers, never breaking eye contact. He inched in, nose brushing against you and you knew well enough his intentions. 

“In twenty-four hours we’ll consummate the marriage, Belli-bear; don’t.” You warned him with a playful smile, noticing how he leaned down and kissed your neck slowly. You couldn’t resist, tilting your head back. With all the planning involved, you barely got to see anything of each other, even less intimately. 

“I don’t care.” He grumbled, sliding his hands on your thighs as you stumbled over to the edge of the bed. He sat first, drawing you over to his lap. “I’ve barely seen you in the last two months.” Jude linked your lips together, and you melted right into his lap. It was slow, taking your time. He pulled down the straps of the soft cotton pajamas, letting the top roll down and pool at your waist. 

Your bare chest heaved against his clothed one, and he removed the shirt before his hands cupped your breasts. The tension building up in the room was something you’ve never experienced before; it was mind numbing, almost. 

“I love you.” You muttered something you’ve said so many times previously, but it felt like the first time. You noticed how he swallowed hard, his eyes looking up at you with utter admiration. Instead of replying right away, his hand sneaked under the matching shorts, past your underwear. Your breath hitched, his middle fingers drawing circles slowly. 

“Yo también te amo.” He replied, licking his lips. You slightly raised your brows in surprise; it was usually the other way around. You said it in Spanish and he replied in English. Now his tongue spoke your language with ease each day. Your mouth twitched lightly into a smile, interrupted by a moan as he gathered the slick pooling around his fingers. 

“Let me take you, please.” His begging was sincere, knowing you could easily decline and follow traditions. Not that you hadn’t done it before, but maybe right before your wedding was pushing it. “I’m too eager… I don’t think I can wait until tomorrow. 

You have been feeling his boner pressing against your thigh for a while now, yet again adding to his honesty. Your thoughts were racing a hundred miles per hour, but you concluded there was nothing traditional about this in the first place. The two of you were bending the rules over backwards from the day you met. A smile still rose to your lips, pulling him into a kiss and pushing him onto the bed. 

“Take me now. Tomorrow you’ll do it forever.” You brushed your nose against his, and he switched places to lay on top of you. Without wasting any time he pulled your pajama shorts and underwear down, his own following soon after. 

“Uh, fuck— I forgot,” He looked around the room, trying to figure out if you’d brought any condoms. You pulled his face towards yours, cupping his jaw in your fingers. 

“I’ll take a pill tomorrow.” You noticed how his eyes shone in a way you’d never noticed before, and he caught your lips in his once more, brushing his tip against your entrance. You mewled, feeling the stretch and embracing it warmly. Your fiancé held you against his chest, kissing the top of your head. 

“You feel so warm,” He practically whined, starting to draw out long thrusts. You could barely reply to the praise, trying to keep your moans muffled by hiding your face in his neck. “So perfect for me, my girl.” 

He knew those strained moans like the back of his hand, the kind where you seemed to be choking on air. The way your cunt squeezed him was enough indication. “Yes, baby. Do it, cum for me.” You exhaled in a way it was apparent the permission lifted a weight off your shoulders. He held you closer to his body, allowing your moans to leave your mouth more freely without escaping those four walls. 

The stutter of his hips that came soon after, followed by a string of curses gave away that Jude was close too. You kissed his strong shoulders, giving him words of encouragement as he perched your legs over his shoulders and started a painful pace to find his release. Still, he looked down at you with a fondness that made your heart melt, leaning down for a final kiss as he pulled out and shot ropes of white to cover your lower tummy. 

“How about a warm bath?” He proposed tenderly, and you couldn’t have said no, even if you wanted to. Without even noticing you fell asleep curled up in his chest, the light steam surrounding your bodies. 

You woke up the next day to the empty bed, haven’t felt so well rested in a while. There was some chatter going on downstairs, and you peaked from the bedroom window to notice staff being led by your mother and soon to be mother-in-law assembling the ceremony venue in the vast backyard. The reality soon dawned upon you, and you wanted to throw up from the nerves and scream in glee. 

But that was the last time you were left alone with your thoughts, as a soft knock rang through the room. “Coming! Denme dos minutos!” You sprung up from the bed, quickly fixing the bed and slipping into the silk slip dress you bought for the whole ‘getting ready’ part of it. The house had a great heating system from the dropping temperatures, but you still got a matching bolero in cashmere. Upon opening the door you were greeted by your small wedding party, consisting of your cousin and best friend. Your other female family members were getting ready with you with the same team of hair and makeup. 

The greeting hugs everyone gave you were so different. They were full of warmth, positivity. You had to hold back tears when your mom hugged you, easing up all your nerves. It was as if they were confirming to you that they were there for you, sending all the well wishes for the years to come with a simple embrace. 

You had your favorite breakfast with mimosas before getting ready. Music was blasting, everyone was chatting it up and helping each other. It felt as though you were getting ready for a regular party, until your brother came knocking at the door. “Delivery for the bride.” He smiled, and the room full of women squealed. You were done with your hair already but you were going to be the last to get your makeup done. 

With a smile you kissed your brother on the cheek before ushering him out the door, taking a hold of the large box and placing it on the bed. Upon removing the lid, you gasped at the delicately placed bouquet, the one you were going to be walking down the aisle with. 

“You like it? I helped him choose. He assembled it himself last night after everyone was gone.” Denise came up to you with a warm smile, and you couldn’t help but give her a tearful nod, setting the flowers aside to give her a tight hug. You figured this whole thing was a big change for her, considering how much of a mama’s boy Jude was. 

But that embrace felt just like the others; full of support and well wishes. 

In no time your makeup started and the women got dressed, only leaving your mum to help you with the dress and the veil. “Ay mi princesa.” She exhaled, fanning her eyes as you took a step back to look at yourself in front of the mirror. You took a deep breath in, having to hold back the need to start crying. Your dream wedding dress fit you as perfectly as it did on the first fitting, and the lacy veil was as perfect as it was on your mother all those years back. 

“I think we should head downstairs. Get some pictures of our family together. Jude should be waiting outside already, so there would be no peeking.” She laughed, carefully cleaning away the tears right at the edge of her eyes. 

The following reactions were similar. Your father looked as though he was about to pass out, and your brother was left speechless. But you only cared about one reaction, and you stood perfect for the family pictures as you could only imagine how Jude would react. 

Still the anticipation couldn’t have prepared you to see him shedding real tears as you walked down the garden, unable to stop looking at you. And for a second there, you swore it was just you and him in the entire planet. 

You couldn’t stop looking at each other throughout the whole thing, no matter if you were supposed to look at the officiant. You said your vows first, eyes brimming with tears. “Most importantly, I love how you make me think I’m the brightest star in the world, no matter how bad either of us are feeling. And I promise I’ll drive you everywhere for the rest of our lives, don’t get that license, amor.” You finished with a bitter sweet chuckle. But you couldn’t have expected what Jude had to say next. 

“Uh, I’ve been practicing my vows for the past six months. If there’s any mistakes, just… keep it to yourselves.” The audience chuckled lightly, but they were as intrigued as you were. He started out by saying your name, almost breathless, “Siempre te he dicho que eres la razón por la que creo en el amor a primera vista.” You choked out a sob, as people in the audience gasped. 

Jude had written and learned his vows in Spanish. Without telling a soul. 

He apparently grew more confident, sucking a big breath in. “Y hoy, puedo decir con toda certeza que creo en el amor sincero y eterno. Todo por ti, preciosa,” His bottom lip quivered, noticing how you were made a mess, eyes full of tears. 

“Eres la estrella que alumbra mis días. Mi chauffeur que me lleva a todos los lugares sin que se lo pida.” He cleared his throat, inhaling the tears in. “Gracias por confiar en mí y en nuestro amor para llegar aquí hoy. Te amo.” 

You smiled at him warmly, and knew he would tease you later for having matching vows without knowing. The rest of the ceremony flew by, and Jude really took the ‘you may kiss the bride’ part too seriously. 

“I can’t believe you copied me…” He huffed as you made way inside the mansion, waiting in a separate room for your entrance. “…Mrs. Bellingham.” He practically giggled, and you laughed from the mirror as you were retouching your makeup.

“You’re the one that copied me! I said my vows first, idiot!” You joked, finishing the lip combo before getting to his side, holding his hand to do your entrance to the dining hall. The nerves filled you up and he noticed from the way you shifted your weight from one side to another. 

He kissed your hand and winked, and you knew everything was going to be alright. 

You found out that night most of your guests were hefty drinkers, or at least they had decided to be so for that particular occasion. But you also found out later that night that thank God you ‘consummated your marriage’ the previous night, considering you had to ask for a few of his fellow athlete friends to carry him up to the newlywed couple’s bedroom. You later laid there staring at the ceiling, stomach churning from… anticipation? The drinks? 

But even as Jude was snoring right next to you, you knew deep down everything was going to be alright. 

For the rest of your lives together.

judebellingham mr. and mrs. b 🤍

tagged: yourusername

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A/N: my bf still says we can't get married so enjoyyy this delusion i'm using to cope KFDSKLSDFKLV lowk did my dream wedding here but it wasn't at the same time. hope everyone enjoyed this sappy sappy short series !! the translation to jude’s wedding vows are in that lil note in the smau !!!