#it's so bad i don't even have words for how bad it is

[navybrat817]

Any thoughts for WETnesday with Bucky?🤭🤭

Okay, Syd. I wrote this after work for Wetnesday and promptly fell asleep. So, I'm posting this on Thirsty Thursday! And that has to be Mr. Barnes before you two are married.

Dinner Plans

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky doesn't want to be late for dinner, but you don't seem to be in a rush to go.

Word Count: Over 2.8k

Warnings: Established relationship, quick unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, lovelies), possessive behavior, a bit of humor and fluff, feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I love this couple, okay? @targaryenvampireslayer and @starlightcrystalline, I hope you enjoy! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was still early in the evening as Bucky got ready for dinner. Checking his watch once he put it on, he sighed. If he was late, Steve would give him a hard time. And if Steve gave him a hard time, Sam would only give him the gasoline to fuel the fire. Just the thought of it had his face shift to his grumpy stare you loved.

His gaze softened when you went to the vanity. Would the guys give him a hard time if he said he was in love and wanted as much alone time with you as possible? How being with you was like floating on a cloud and being pulled back down to earth all at once? He didn’t care if they’d call him out for being sappy. He sure as hell suffered enough in his life that he could afford to be appreciative of you and maybe a little selfish when it came to you.

But checking the time, he grumbled. “We were supposed to leave five minutes ago,” he said.

He would’ve rather gone to a hole in the wall kind of place or a diner to have dinner, but it wasn't his turn to pick the dinner out with some of the gang. Plus it was nice getting to dress up with you since you liked how he looked in suits. To be fair, you said he looked good in anything and he felt the same way about you. How you always managed to look like a goddess, he’d never know.

You hummed. “We still have a few minutes to spare,” you said, which he wasn’t sure how you knew since you hadn’t looked at the time. “And you are not dressed yet, so it’s not like we can head out the door.”

He paused to stare at you. “Neither are you,” he pointed out, licking his lips as you leaned forward a bit more as you applied your makeup. He shook his head after a moment, trying to snap himself out of the spell you always managed to put him under. “I’m bringing you one of my cardigans to put over your shoulders in case you get cold.”

Because the weather was nice for the evening, you picked out a sleeveless dress. He didn’t know if the restaurant would be cold though, and he didn’t want you shivering through the meal. You likely had something to match your dress, but putting one of his cardigans over you was like that extra touch of belonging to him in case anyone got any ideas.

“You just want one of your shirts draped over me like a big neon sign that says I’m yours and you don't want guys checking me out on my dress,” you said like you knew exactly what he was thinking. There was no reason to deny your words since it was the truth. “But I appreciate the thoughtfulness.”

“I do like my clothes draped over you,” he smirked. He liked having his smell on you, too. “But you know what I don’t like? Steve and Sam bitching if we’re late. It’ll spoil my appetite.”

“Aww, my poor super soldier,” you teased, smiling at him in your reflection and making his heart skip a beat. “If we’re late, you can just blame me. I won’t let them give you a hard time, okay?”

Bucky couldn’t blame you though. Not entirely. You were late getting in the shower thanks to him insisting on the two of you staying in bed. Serum stamina or whatever you wanted to call it, but he felt bad some days for his almost constant need. You didn’t seem to mind though.

“They won’t believe me,” he said, staring again when the strap of your bra slipped from your shoulder. “And baby, you know I adore you, but you need to quit distracting me so I can finish getting dressed.”

Ever since you moved in, you’d been a distraction in a wonderful way. He often found that he’d pause to look at photos or little touches you incorporated into the place, giving him a chance to reflect on memories you made together and even learn more about who you were before you met. Hearing your laughter or voice call to him from another room also made him drop whatever he was doing, too. Sharing a space with someone could be daunting, but it was easy with you, like you had lived together for years. It made him look forward to more.

“Me? Distracting you?” You turned your head toward him and gave him an innocent glance. You were anything but innocent. “I'm not doing anything.”

Bucky almost snarled. Like hell you weren't doing anything. Swaying your hips and prancing around in your lingerie before you sat to get ready, lingerie which barely covered your gorgeous tits and sweet cunt. He wanted to rip it to shreds or tear it off with his teeth. You wouldn’t mind, right? He could always get you more to destroy.

“Not doing anything? Look at you,” he said incredulously as you turned back to the mirror and pushed your bra up. He should’ve been holding your breasts. “Why aren't you wearing a robe?”

You tilted your head. “Well, you said before I got in the shower that we were in a slight rush, so I figured putting on the robe was a waste of time. At least I have my underwear on, though I know you’d rather I be naked.”

If Bucky had his way, you’d be naked all the time. At least, when you two were at home. Logically he knew he couldn’t have that at work, functions, or anything of that nature, but the image in his head was nice. “For such a rush you seem to be taking your time.”

“I'm not taking my time. I'm finishing my makeup,” you argued, carefully applying your lipstick. “Like it?” you asked, blowing him an air kiss. It was a pretty shade. It would look even prettier smeared around his cock.

He closed his eyes with a groan. Some days he felt like a caveman with the thoughts that consumed him. “You look beautiful,” he said once he opened his eyes. Like always. “Now get your dress on so I can show you off before I put the cardigan on you.”

“Show me off?” You slowly stood from your chair and gave him a generous view of your backside. His cock twitched in his pants, and there was no reason to hide the pure lust in his eyes when you turned to face him. “You flatter me, Mr. Barnes.”

He chuckled. It always did something to him when you called him Mr. Barnes. It was something affectionate, sweet. “I think you’re the one flattering me, Mrs.-” he exhaled before he could finish, and he heard the hitch in your breath across the room.

“What was that?” you asked breathily.

He adjusted the watch on his wrist and avoided your gaze. You were his girl, yeah, and the love you had for each other spoke volumes, but you weren’t his wife. Not yet. God, how he wanted you to be- for you to take his last name, wear his ring on your finger, be his partner in all aspects of life. He wanted it to be more than just a dream.

“I didn’t say…” He cleared his throat and put on a blank face, only because he didn’t know how you’d react. “Anything.”

Your eyes raked over him before you beckoned him forward with a finger. He swore no one would ever control him again after HYDRA brainwashed him, but you could’ve commanded him to do anything. It didn’t frighten him because you would never harm him, never take advantage of him. Taking him into your care and maintaining his trust was one of the ways you showed you loved him.

Once he stood in front of you, barely an inch away, you whispered, “Were you about to call me Mrs. Barnes?”

He swallowed hard, his heart racing. It was one thing to say you loved each other, to want a future together, but what if you weren’t ready when he popped the question? “I was,” he whispered back.

You smiled, not looking the least bit put off or afraid. He should've known it wouldn't bother you, especially with you being the one to say “I love you” first. “I think that has a really nice ring to it,” you said, your hands moving to unbuckle his belt.

“You think so?” he asked, forgetting for a moment that he was capable of breathing. “You like the idea of being my wife?”

Bucky would no doubt be the kind of husband who’d brag about you. He’d find ways to insert “my wife” in conversations just to let others know that you picked him out of everyone else on the planet. Not just that, he wanted people to know how proud he was to be your man and that he’d find reasons every day to be proud of you.

“I love it,” you confirmed, sighing when he ran his fingertips along your arms. “Makes my heart race,” you admitted. He could hear it. “Makes me wet.”

Bucky arched his hips and pressed up against you. “Baby, you’re gonna kill me,” he whispered, not stopping you as you unbuttoned his pants. He was thinking of just cancelling dinner so he could throw you on the bed and stay inside you for the rest of the night. “We need to-”

“Oh. Now might be a good time to tell you that Steve pushed the reservation back by a half hour,” you cut in, mouthing over his racing pulse. “He figured he’d message me since I’m better about checking my phone, and-”

Bucky picked you up with ease and tossed you onto the bed. Your wide-eyed expression as you bounced nearly had him busting out of his pants, and he didn’t hesitate to crawl over you and pin you down. Relishing in the moan you let out when he lightly bit your neck, he did it again a little harder. “No wonder you took your time and teased me,” he smirked when you squirmed beneath him. “My future wife.”

“My future husband,” you moaned, bucking your hips up. “Need you in me. We can be quick.”

You got a hand in his hair and forced his head up to yours, your tongue impatiently pushing into his mouth. He groaned in understanding, feeling just as desperate as you. Knowing how turned on you were at the thought of being his wife turned him on, and he could barely form a coherent thought as he took his cock out and gave it a couple of quick pumps.

“Say it again,” he demanded, shoving your panties aside and rubbing the head of his cock along your slit. He took his time earlier today stretching you, and he wanted nothing more than to feel you around him again.

And the way you reached between your bodies and gripped the base of his cock, he knew you wanted the same when you said, “Fuck me, my future husband.”

He eased in gently, making you whine. He thought he’d whine, too, for a second because of how good he felt. God, how good it would feel to hold your hand one day and feel his ring against your skin. “You okay?” he asked, dragging his thumb along your lower lip once he was fully inside you. You were tight still, so wet, and oh, he was going to fuck you and make it quick, but he wasn’t going to hurt you.

“I’m okay,” you whispered, starting deep into his eyes as you clenched around him with purpose and brushed his hair back. He tried to be still, tried not to thrust like a wild animal. “Are you?”

“I’m okay,” he promised, easing his hips back. “Just hold on while I fuck you.”

Your back arched when he slammed himself back in nice and deep, your cry bouncing off the walls. Here in the comfort of your home you didn’t have to smother any noises, didn’t have to keep quiet. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, how you were the queen of his world.

Being inside you all he got out was, “You feel so fucking good.”

And because you could read him like no one else could, you tenderly smiled. “I love you, too.”

He threw his head back as you clutched his arms, determined to make you feel good, determined to show you how much he loved you even as he fucked you. “Gonna put you on your hands and knees after dinner. Make you watch in the mirror while I fuck you,” he groaned. “Can imagine it's part of our honeymoon.”

“Please!’ you moaned, trying to meet his thrusts.

Bucky grabbed your thighs to lift you higher, uncaring if he ruined his pants for the evening. Watching you tremble beneath his, a vision of ecstasy, he was happy to stay there forever. Wrapped up in you was where he always wanted to be.

“Gonna come,” you moaned, reaching up to pull his hair again, your body quaking. “Bucky, please.”

Bucky groaned. He hadn’t rubbed your clit how he wanted to. Didn’t get to tear your bra off and tease your nipples. He did promise to fuck you later though, and he’d do all those things and more. “Then come for me,” he smirked, leaning down to say against your lips, “Future. Mrs.. Barnes.”

You got impossibly tight and the flood of wetness that gushed around him triggered his own orgasm, a rush of heat filling him as he filled you. His mouth fell open as you clung to him, and he heard you moan his name as your eyes went glossy. He wanted the image of you getting off to taking his last name etched in his brain for all time. He wanted his name to fall from your lips again and again on your wedding night.

The cloud in his mind began to lift. You, his future wife, were beneath him, still shaking, still holding him like a lifeline. He didn’t want to let you go either. “Holy… shit…” you panted.

He braced himself above you, trying not to crush you as the euphoria slowly faded. It never really went away though. Not with you. “Holy shit,” he agreed. He stayed inside you, your sweet mewl making him smile as he kissed you. “Is this a new kink?” he asked, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, touching his cheek. “New kink unlocked.”

Touching your lips with his once more, he chuckled. “You ruined my pants,” he teased. It wouldn’t have been the first time. The first time you rode his thigh and got your release all over it, he nearly came, too. “Good thing I have a few minutes to change.”

He cradled you close when he shifted to the side, making you moan again. “Yeah, well, you ruined my panties. Fair is fair.”

“I did,” he smirked, running his fingers along your spine. “Hey.”

“Hey what?”

“I love you,” he whispered, wanting to say it as often as he could. They weren’t just words, but a declaration, a promise.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back, tracing one of the buttons on his wrinkled shirt.

His lips brushed your forehead. He’d never get tired of hearing you say that. “If I asked you to marry me right now, would you say yes?”

He wouldn’t propose right this second. You deserved something more romantic. But in his heart, he just wanted to hear you say that you’d say yes.

You giggled, your eyes full of love. “I would say yes in a heartbeat,” you replied, kissing him gently. Your answer relieved him. “And I’d marry you anytime, anywhere.”

He raised an eyebrow. “But?” he asked, sensing a “but” in there.

“But don’t ask me right now, okay?” you smiled, in sync with his thoughts. “I mean, I’d like to think my pussy would make you propose now-”

“And it would,” he smirked.

You giggled again. “But ask me when I’m not expecting it… Whenever it feels right to you.”

“I will,” he promised.

“Looking forward to it.” You snuggled closer and missed his look of adoration. “Hold me for one more minute before we get ready to go?”

As if he could ever deny you. “I’ll hold you as long as you want,” he whispered.

He no longer cared if Steve or Sam gave him shit should they show up late. If you wanted him to skip dinner just to hold you, he’d do it. If you wanted him to surprise you when he proposed, he would. And no matter when Bucky asked you to be his wife, he’d make sure it was perfect as it could possibly be.

AHH! I love them so much. How do you lovelies think he proposed? ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[two-white-butterflies]

you'll live forever | part one

Description: Hwang In-ho joins the newest edition of Squid Games as Player 001. He sees the wife that he believes to be dead, and she cannot remember him.

Pairing: hwang in-ho/reader

A/N: I love Squid Games but let us not allow the capitalism-fication of this franchise to let us forget about the series' core message. capitalism sucks. Don't let violence desensitize us. Warning: idk if I used the word hyung correctly... multipart, comment to get tagged.

There were times when he'd wake up too early in the morning when the sun would greet his sensitive eyes, and he'd take a longer time to adjust to the brightness. In those rare moments, he sees the faint silhouette of your body, in those rare times, he even smells your cherry blossom perfume.

A sigh escapes his mouth as he sinks further into the sheets.

No matter how far his hands reach out - you won't be there to hold it.

"I have work tomorrow, I don't want to drink." A complaint escapes In-ho's mouth as his younger brother drags him to the nearest bar. In-ho has never been fond of spending time around other people, he'd much rather focus on work and getting that new promotion...

"Who said anything about drinking, hyung? You promised me that you'd make time to meet my girlfriend," the younger man rolls his eyes, dragging his brother to the center of the room where everyone was huddled near the television. Yep, soccer. "My schedule is cleared next Saturday," In-ho raises an eyebrow.

"Oppa!!" He hears someone scream at the top of their lungs, and his brother quickly makes her way towards the woman - greeting her with a hug. 'Young love,' In-ho thinks to himself, as he turns to look the other way - he suddenly catches a glimpse of someone.

You.

One.

His eyes trailed upwards, soaking in the sight of your face. He sees his future inside of your eyes, your perfect lips, the way you slowly begin to smile at him.

Two.

His gaze trails downwards as he sees the beautiful dress that you're wearing. He begins to praise the summer days, his eyes brushing against your creamy thighs, making his heart thump erratically.

Three.

"Hyung, this is my girlfriend Hee-jo and that's her friend. What was your name again?" His brother turns to look at you, and that smile deepens - your eyes meeting his. "My name's In-ho," he greets, and you mumble your name underneath your breath, shaking his hand.

"I'm sorry for tagging along Jun-ho. Hee-jo's dad made me come with," You blushed. In fear that you were intruding on the couple's personal moment. "Don't worry, you're like a sister to me." Jun-ho chuckles, sitting beside Hee-jo - leaving his brother with no choice but to sit beside you.

As Hee-jo raises her hand to drink a glass of beer, the entire bar erupts into a cacophony of cheers - South Korea has earned a point! Everyone stands up, but In-ho and you remain seated.

He smiles, watching you cheer for the motherland.

This particular memory has been burned into his mind. It only took him three seconds to see you and fall in love. "Yay," you giggled after the bartenders announced a round of drinks on the house. And after that encounter, fate seemed to smile on you both.

He remembers all the memories, the good and bad.

He also remembers your first date. It was the first winter of 2008. "You were born in 1976?" You raised an eyebrow, continuing to stuff your face with beef and lettuce. "Yes, is there something wrong with that?" He pretended to look offended.

'How old is she?' his eyebrows merged together.

He places a piece of kimchi inside his mouth. "How old are you?" He asks, cursing himself for forgetting to ask Jun-ho. "I was born in 1986. I honestly thought that you were much younger," you pouted.

'That would make her...' he calculates your age in the back of his mind. Ten years younger than him! He almost bites his tongue. "Is that going to be a problem?" He tilts his head. He definitely does not have a chance with someone like you, so beautiful and young.

"No, I like older men." You say bluntly. He almost spits out his drink, earning a giggle from you. "Ouch," he pretends to be hit. "So, what is it exactly that you do for work?" You ask with a smile, happily eating your meal. "I'm a police officer. I mostly do detective cases, what about you?" He inquires with interest.

"I just graduated. I work at the hospital." You informed.

"Are you a doctor?" He asks.

"No, I'm a nurse. It's always been a dream of mine," your eyes sparkle at the mention of making your dreams a reality. "Saving people," you quickly added. "- I guess you feel the same way too, since you're a police officer." You pointed out.

In-ho nods.

"I guess we are the same," he continues nodding. The entire date, the smile does not leave his lips...then,

One date, becomes two, becomes a thousand.

And finally, you are getting married to him.

"Hey, are you okay?" In-ho wraps his arms around you, preparing to meet your guests who are waiting in the reception. A deep sigh escapes your mouth. "I'm scared," you confessed. He wraps his arms around you, already aware of your fears.

"I mean everyone's going to be from your side of the family - and everyone's already talking about how I don't have parents." You chuckled nervously. All these ajummas won't stop talking about your personal life. In-ho has even contemplated not inviting them at all, but his father insisted. "Fuck them," he shakes his head, cupping your cheeks and pressing a tender kiss on your forehead.

"Let's enjoy our wedding," he smiles.

"I love you, In-ho." You repeated.

"I love you more," he responded.

He has always loved you more.

The beautiful days of the roses were over, he was only left with the darkness of the night. "ESRD," the doctor opened his mouth to speak. "How dangerous is it?" In-ho fights against that heaving feeling in the back of his throat.

"ESRD, End Stage Renal Disease is where the kidney can no longer support the body's needs. Most typically, I would recommend dialysis in moderate cases, but for severe cases, I strongly advise a kidney transplant. Your wife has a very common blood type, it will be easy to get a match, but that's not the problem." The doctor hesitates, In-ho recognizes the man to be one of your closest friends.

He hands In-ho a stack of files.

"It's expensive to pay for kidney transplants in this country. There is a waiting list for donors, but it'll take decades - there are some who sell their kidneys but it costs almost a billion won, and then there's the medicine, the operation, and the hospital. It takes a lot of money and she's one of my closest friends so please feel free to reach out to me. I can give a bit of what I have." The doctor rambles.

Whatever it takes, even when the cost is too high.

₩649,344,412

In-ho stares at the cost of your transplant, and he knows that he doesn't have that money. "We'll be fine," he tells himself.

"I need to borrow money," In-ho stares at the loanshark. The man looked like a typical gangster, with tattoos all over his forearm, and the smell of cigarettes looming over the air.

"The high and mighty detective borrowing money from someone like me?" The man teased. In-ho has been watching this man for the past two years, waiting for a mistake - the loanshark's #1 enemy, and now begging at his doorsteps for money. "10% interest rate, you pay every month." The loanshark emphasized.

His cronies laugh, and one of them continues to massage him.

"5% and you give me the cash today," In-ho demands, an air of authority radiating around him. "Borrow money from someone else," the man scoffs. "- I know about the money laundering." In-ho leans cooly on the chair, pretending to be confident about the situation.

"6%," the man clenches his jaw.

"You have yourself a deal," In-ho agrees.

After the secret meeting, the loanshark got arrested. In-ho was fired from his job - the superiors believed that he was bribed to hide the loanshark's secret. And then he got a call from a random number.

He played ddakji with a strangely well-dressed man in the middle of the subway station, and he joined the 28th Squid Games.

He won the 28th Squid Games.

He exited the black van, his white shoes meeting the dirty ground. He stands to look at your home, everyone is staring at him. "What are you doing here!" Hee-jo screams at him. "She's dead, you didn't even visit her, she's dead!" Hee-jo yells.

In-ho stares in shock, looking around him, to see different types of flowers scattered all over the porch. 'I have the money,' he wanted to say as tears spilled out of his irises. "How dare you come here." Hee-jo continued crying as her grip on his forearm tightens, hurting him.

"In-ho," his younger brother looks shocked to see him.

"I'm sorry," In-ho mumbles.

I'm sorry.

Comment to get tagged for PT. 2

[totalswag]

heyyy can i request angst with drew, maybe they had a fight (totally a misunderstanding bc yk how we get when we’re on our period 😔) and he was just really mean to her, she feels real bad abt and later he apologizes plss 🙏

love your writing!!!

apologies in the after math ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors note hi, thank you for your kind words. i hope you enjoy reading lovies. so close to 2k of you all, oh my gosh, i'm so grateful!!

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summary its the time of month and you get overstimulated easily. drew and you have a little argument that leads you two for not talking for a bit till he comes into your shared room.

warning(s) being on your period, crying, arguing, cussing.

You started your period yesterday and have not been in the best. Your mood swings vary every single time during your period⎯don’t know what mood you’ll be. You've been lying on the heating pad since four in the morning⎯You're going through it now. 

The cloudy weather makes you feel peaceful, and you're snuggled up on the couch, watching movies to distract yourself from the cramps. This is your typical routine on your period because you don’t have a lot of energy to do anything in the very beginning.

Drew left the gym around seven in the morning and was heading home. He went with Chase, one of his Outer Banks castmates. He texted you that he was only around the corner from the house.

Drew came to the house, put his stuff down, stepped into the living room, kissed you on the cheek, and asked if you wanted to join him in the shower to ease your cramps.

"Come with me, baby; it will feel good," Drew encourages, kneeling in front of you and leaning forward, reaching, softly caressing your lower back.

Drew does everything he can to ensure your well-being during your period. He despised seeing you in pain and discomfort. He secretly brought you coffee, donuts, and your favorite flowers the last time you were on your period. He also respects your boundaries.

"I don't see why not," you shrugged, removing the blanket from your body and folding it before following Drew down the hall to your shared bathroom. 

A few hours go by, you are in one of your negative mood swings. You woke up from an hour nap. Drew and you had a fight⎯the fight began over something pointless. Of course it did. Drew had left his shoes in the middle of the hallway yet again, and as you stumbled over them, something inside you cracked. 

Drew casually dismissed your aggravation with a lazy, "Relax, it's just shoes," lightly chuckling, and you let out a rush of pent-up frustration.

"You're always doing this, Drew! You have no regard for anyone else's space or time. It's like, "Geez, are you even trying?"

His jaw tensed as he put down the drink he was holding. "Are you serious right now?" His tone was cut as a warning. "You're overreacting."

"Don't you dare tell me I'm overreacting," you said, your face flushing. "Maybe if you actually paid attention for once—"

"Fine!" he said abruptly, cutting you off. His voice rose, intense. "Do you want me to pay attention? Fine. But maybe you should quit looking for reasons to start a fight. Not everything is a major issue, you know."

The words felt like a slap. Tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them, and you fought to let them fall. You stood paralyzed, unable to speak due to the lump in your throat. Drew inhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair and muttering something under his breath.

As time passed you didn’t say a word to Drew—both of you were quiet. You stayed in your shared bedroom scrolling through tiktok. Drew was somewhere in the house doing something.

There was a soft knock at the door, "Hey," Drew said, hesitantly and quietly.

You didn’t answer. Part of you wanted to stay stubborn, but the crack in his tone made your resolve falter. 

The door creaked open, and you could hear his cautious feet. "I'm sorry," he added, bringing his voice closer. "I should not have spoken to you like that. "I didn't mean it."

You peered out from beneath the cover, seeing his sorrowful gaze. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and his hair was ruffled, as if he had raked his fingers through it in irritation.

"I was out of line," he added, crouching near the bed. "I just lashed out." That is on me."

Drew continues to explain he was even more out of line knowing you are on your period and you have these little moments where you aren’t in the best of moods. He was validating your feelings, putting the blame on himself. However, you shouldn’t react that way to begin with.

The honesty in his tone made your throat clench.

"I'm sorry, too," you said quietly. "I didn't intend to provoke a fight. "I just..." I've been feeling lousy all day and took it out on you. "I should not have done that."

Drew shook his head softly. "No, do not do it. You are free to express how you feel. "I just want to be better for you."

He grabbed your hand and lovingly squeezed it. "Will you come out with me? "I have something to show you."

Curiosity got the best of you. The wonders of what he has for you. Was he doing something to make up for the altercation? So many things running through your mind. 

When you entered the dining room, your breath hitched. The table was set with your favorite dinner, and candles flickered softly in the dark lighting. An arrangement of your favorite flowers was placed in the center, their beautiful fragrance filling the air.

"I know it doesn't erase what I said," Drew replied softly, caressing the back of his neck. But I wanted to make it up to you. You mean everything to me, and I detest the thought of you thinking I don't care,” wrapping his arms around your waist, kissing your cheek a few times.

Your eyes welled up again, but this time with glad tears. You hugged him firmly and buried your face in his chest.

"Thank you," you replied softly. "This means everything to me."

He kisses the top of your head and wrapped his arms around you. "You mean everything to me," he said quietly back.

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[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 11

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 11 of 12!

Chapter 11

His sister's screams were bloodcurdling.

Charles had known that birth was a painful, messy affair, that it was never easy, but actually hearing his sister’s very real, very painful screams from the room beyond was a truly eye-opening experience. He didn’t know how women could survive this, frankly.

Arthur looked green around the gills, not helped by the white bandage on his forehead…which apparently had been the result of him fainting and being taken down by the corner of a hospital bed. 

"I am never having kids," Arthur said, swallowing heavily.

"I am rethinking my family planning as well," Lorenzo said weakly. "I don't think I can stand seeing Charlotte go through that pain."

Arthur grimaced as another scream came ringing out from the room. “I think I am scheduling a vasectomy tomorrow,” he said faintly. “This absolutely confirms it as a good life decision for me.”

"I think that's the concussion talking," Charles tried to assure his brother, as another scream rang out.

On second thought…maybe Arthur was onto something.

And just at that moment, Colette's scream suddenly broke off. They froze—all of them.

Absolute silence rang through the room. Charles was afraid to even breathe. He had no idea what was happening on the other side of the door, and that terrified him. Everything had been going well so far, hadn't it?

And then a cry rang out.

A baby’s cry: shrill, a little indignant.

All three men let out their collective breaths in a sigh of pure relief.

The whole room was silent for a moment, as they processed the fact that their sister and her baby were alright.

“Oh, thank god,” Lorenzo said feebly. “I thought something awful had happened.”

“No kidding,” Arthur agreed. He sagged back against the wall behind him, his skin regaining a proper colour again, instead of the sickly green it had been moments before.

Charles leaned his head back against the wall, shutting his eyes for a brief second. It was over. Everything had gone alright. 

Colette and her baby were both going to be okay.

"We are uncles now," Arthur said suddenly.

A beat of surprise. And then:

“Oh god, we are, aren’t we?” Lorenzo said.

“We’re uncles,” Arthur repeated a slightly shell-shocked look on his face.

Charles couldn’t help it. A smile broke out over his face, a very real, utterly ridiculous one that he didn’t have the energy to hold back. “We are, aren’t we?” he repeated Enzo’s words.

“This is absolutely insane!” Arthur said, a grin creeping over his face. “We’re going to be the coolest uncles ever.”

“I thought kids are overrated?” Lorenzo pointed out wryly.

“The most overrated,” Arthur insisted. “But I’m going to spoil our niece or nephew absolutely rotten.”

It took a little while longer, but finally, the door opened, revealing Max. He looked…exhausted. Absolutely beat. There were dark circles under his eyes…but a look of relief was on his face like Charles had never seen on his friend before. And yet, Max was grinning.

Looking happier than ever.

“Max,” Charles said, a little hoarsely. He wanted to ask how they were, he wanted to ask about the baby, he wanted to ask if Coco was alright. But all he could get out was Max’s name, his voice too thick.

"Come meet your niece," Max said simply.

He said the word ‘niece’ like it was the best thing in the world, and it made Charles smile. He straightened up, following Max into the room, Arthur and Lorenzo trailing behind him.

Coco was curled up in her bed, her hair messy, her face pale, but she was smiling, a weak little smile tinged with exhaustion but so very, very happy. And cradled against her chest was the baby, wrapped snugly in a little pink blanket.

Charles just sort of stopped dead in the midst of the room. Seeing his sister with her baby in her arms… it was like his brain had stopped functioning in the space of a moment.

All three brothers were silent for a long moment, just taking in the sight of them.

Charles felt a lump rise in his throat,and swallowed heavily.

Lorenzo was biting his lip, trying to keep the tears from welling up in his eyes. And Arthur was absolutely silent, all of the usual sass gone from his expression.

It was a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, as they all just stood awkwardly at the edge of the bed, just looking.

Finally, Coco looked up at them, and her smile widened faintly. “Well?” she asked. "Cha, don’t you want to hold your niece?"

His heart skipped, and he managed to pull himself forward so he could sit down on the bed next to her. “I get to hold her?” he asked, just to be certain.

"Of course, you do," Coco told him softly. "Here you go."

Charles could hardly believe it as Colette gently eased the baby into his arms, carefully supporting her head. And suddenly he was holding her, his niece, this brand new little life, in all of her tiny, delicate, vulnerable little glory, bundled up in a soft pink blanket.

"She's perfect," he said softly, swallowing. 

She was so…fragile, in his hands. He hadn’t expected her to be that small, somehow. Charles smiled faintly, running his fingers gently over her hair. Her eyes were closed, and one tiny fist was poking out of the blanket.  

"Does she have a name yet?" he asked his sister. 

"I get to pick," Colette told him with a grin. "Given that Max named the cats after Monaco's nightlife."

Charles had to admit that was a fair point.

“What, you aren’t going to let Max name your daughter La Rascasse?” he teased Coco who just rolled her eyes.  "What have you come up with?" he asked curiously, tearing his eyes away from his niece to look at his sister.

"If she was a boy, I would have named him Emilian Hervé after Papa," Colette said softly. "Sadly that doesn't work for a girl."

Charles smiled faintly at the mention of their father. Their father would have doted on this baby, he was certain. He would have spoiled her absolutely rotten.

"So I figured… somebody else needed to give their name for her," Coco continued. "I hope you don't mind."

"Of course, I don't mind," Charles assured her at once. Why should he? "Whose name did you use?" he wondered. 

"Yours, you idiot, Cha," Coco told him, her voice soft. "Charlene Victoria Verstappen. We'll call her Charlie for short."

"Oh my god," Max's sister breathed somewhere behind him. "You.."

But Charles could only stare at his sister…could only feel the lump rise in his throat again. He swallowed hard. “You named her after me?” he asked with a waver in his voice, feeling like his heart might just explode in his chest.

"Of course, I did," Colette said softly. "You're my twin brother, why wouldn't I name my baby girl after you?"

Charles couldn't find any words to answer that with. He couldn't find any words at all. His eyes stung, and he couldn't look at her for fear he might cry. He looked down at the baby. His…god, his niece that was named after him.  

He gently ran his fingers over her hair again, marvelling at her tiny, perfect little body. "Hello, Charlie," he said softly, his voice a little choked.

The baby didn't even stir, and Charles smiled, shifting slightly to support her more securely. He couldn't believe that his sister had done this, that she had named her baby girl after him. It made his heart feel like it was fit to burst straight out of his chest, made him try to blink back tears and fail horribly. 

"Congratulations, you've made Charles cry," Lorenzo said from somewhere behind him, sounding a little choked himself.

Charles let out a noise that was half-laughing, half-crying as his brothers joined him at his side. "Shut up," he said, his voice rough with emotion.

"Not a chance," Arthur said as he squeezed in next to him to get a better look at the baby. Lorenzo joined him, peering down at the baby in Charles' arms with a strangely soft expression on his face.

"You gave her my name too," Victoria said weakly. Charles looked up at Max’s sister, not knowing what to say. It had sounded so obvious, so natural to hear Colette say it, that Charles had completely forgotten that Victoria shared the same name.

But she did. 

"A sibling for each of us," Colette said simply. "Sorry, Enzo, Arthur. Maybe next time.”

“Nah, Arthurelle is a horrible name,” Arthur responded. “Totally see why you went for Charlene.” 

Colette laughed, but it was a very weak, exhausted laugh. Charles couldn’t blame her. She must be absolutely wrung out.

And still as he looked at her...as her eyes met his, he could feel how happy his sister. How utterly in love she was with her daughter. How this was everything Colette had ever wanted, and it was right there. 

"I am never driving you to the hospital again though, just so you know," Arthur said. “That cost me at least 30 years of my life.”

"But you did so well," Colette teased their younger brother. "Thank you for that, ma petite puce."

Arthur grimaced faintly, but he looked too tired and happy to actually bite back. Charles smiled faintly at all of them in turn.

Charles‘ eyes snagged on their mother.

"Well, Grand-Mère," he teased her. "How does it feel?"

For a long moment, their mother simply looked at the baby in Charles’ arms with an unreadable expression on her face. And then her expression slowly shifted into a smile. A true smile. A happy, proud Grandma smile.

“Your father would be so proud of you all.” 

[aliteralsemicolon]

Thinking about how Spencer takes care of you when you're too exhausted to take care of yourself.

He walks into your bedroom to find you on the brink of sleep, carelessly curled up on your end of the bed and his brows raise in slight concern as he scans you. You couldn't even be bothered to change out of your day clothes. He chuckles lightly at the sight, as he makes his way to you.

"Baby?" He gently calls to you, rubbing your calf with his hand as he takes a seat next to your legs. You're unable to respond to the sound of his voice despite hearing it. He tries again, this time kneeling on the floor next to your head.

"Angel?" His fingers lightly brush through your hair as he whispers near your ear.

"Hmm?" You reply hazily.

You wait for him to speak so you can go back to sleep but all that follows is silence. He resumes his motions in your hair and it keeps you aware of his presence. He's waiting for you to gain some more consciousness. You rub your eyes, fluttering them open and Spencer's quick to guide your hand away from your face.

Right. Your makeup.

"What's up?" You mumble, stifling a yawn.

"I know you're tired, and I'm sorry for having to wake you up," he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "but you do know why it's bad for you to fall asleep like this?"

This is a topic the two of you have discussed before. You're usually quite meticulous about removing your makeup before bed, but you're also no stranger to nights when you can't find any energy to do so.

"Mhm. Clogged pores, risk of infections, bacteria spread, discomfort…" You trail off, summarising his extensive research.

Getting you up and off this bed is a losing battle tonight and Spencer graciously accepts defeat, sporting an endeared grin.

"Can I at least help you get comfortable? Would it be alright if I took these off for you?" He tugs at your top and waits for your response. You nod, letting out a barely audible hum.

Spencer moves off the floor and begins to remove your clothing. "You're gonna have to help me just a little bit, Angel. Lift your hips for me."

You blindly follow his commands, wanting to get it over with so that he can relax and you can go back to sleep. He doesn't relax, though. As he rids you of the last of your clothing, he mentally fights himself on letting you sleep with your make-up. There are so many risks involved, but hygiene aside, Spencer knows that if you wake up with your pillow stained– or God forbid…a pimple– you're going to be beyond pissed with yourself.

The sudden dip in the mattress slightly startles you, as a cool feeling drags against your cheek and you whine.

"Shhhh, sorry, it's just me." Spencer coos.

"What're you doing?" You groan, squeezing your eyes shut, still in a sleepy haze.

"Just wiping off your makeup, sweet girl. You're going to thank me tomorrow." His finger hooks under your chin and he soothingly rubs his thumb just under your lips.

"Spence…" You begin whining but you're unable to pronounce anything else coherently.

He can tell you're slightly irritated, but he doesn't mind. He knows that it's the exhaustion talking.

"I know, I know." He sympathises with his continually gentle tone. "I'm almost done. You're being so good for me right now."

Your lips pout, but you don't complain any further, his words calming you. By the time he's finished ridding your face of cosmetic residue, you're knocked out again. Light snores can be heard from you. He chuckles to himself at the sight of you. So peaceful. So adorable. He leans in closer and plants a firm, lingering kiss on your forehead before he disappears to get ready for bed himself.

"Spence?"

He turns around at your groggy voice, still half asleep. "Yes?"

"Thank you."

"Anytime, my pretty girl."

[dirtylittlesecre7]

Oh my gosh— someone who writes for nam-gyu? Am I dreaming?! I CANNOT find any fics of him!! Need headcannons about him rn😩 I feel like that man would enjoy making you cry and upset, like he would grin and laugh while doing so. (Cough— Hatefuck—cough..) Just need headcannons about that man so bad😩🫣

This is actually my first time asking, so I really don't know what to say🥲 but I hope you consider this🫶🫶🫶

-🌟anon

warning | nsfw content

word count | 0,6k

a/n | thank you so much for your request luv! I hope I could write something as you wanted

！he's had mixed feelings from the moment he first saw you. hate? anger? like?

oh no, not like. he just hates you so much that he wants to fuck you until you know your place.

"fucking bitch."

"huh?" thanos looked at him incomprehensibly, about to turn his head to you, but nam-gyu quickly changed the subject "nothing."

！he's insanely jealous of thanos👀 even if you don't respond to his flirting, seeing a man next to you makes him angry enough. at least it gives him a reason to make you cry more.

！he should be the only one who annoys you. if he sees someone picking on you, he'll quickly intervene, at first he'll protect you from that person, but then...

"are you too stupid to not protect yourself? no. don't even think about crying." his emotionless voice makes you tremble as he watches you quickly wipe your tears away "good. don't you dare unless I make those tears flow."

！he likes to tease you until you cry because he thinks you look so beautiful with tears in your eyes. If you turn your head and try to hide your face from him, he will forcefully grab your chin and make you look at him with your eyes full of tears. you will see that he is trying to calm down by taking a deep breath because oh...you have no idea how horny he is.

！If he can't sleep at night, he will come to your bed and bother you. If he can't sleep, you can't sleep either. but strangely, talking at night is when you get along the most. guess you are both too tired to argue, but that doesn't mean he won't say a few things about you.

okay, now please hear me out..

！this man is completely clingy when he loves you, but he is also hard when he fucks you, I can't say he doesn't like slow sex, but when he can fuck you like crazy, he doesn't really think about the other option.

！I say clingy because he can never be comfortable if his hand is not on your body in some way. he has to touch you in some way so that he feels better. when you least expect it, you may find his hands on your waist pulling you closer to him "mm...look who's here?"

！If we talk about life outside of the game, you can become his only world. yes, he likes to make you cry and upset. but only you. the others have never caught his attention and they don't. he still thinks you have the most beautiful tears.

！I can't say he's very loud in bed. he'll mostly let out short gasps and short moans. he likes listening to you more, whine for him and he'll make you see stars.

！he likes to tease you and make you cum so much that you cry from sensitivity. when you beg him to stop, he just puckers his lower lip in a mocking tone.

"aw.. does it hurt? what should I do?" he leans into your ear while his fingers, which don't stop, hit the inside of your pussy hard while you just had your 3rd orgasm "Is that all you can take? c'mon.. you can give me more, hm? ah..yes don't hide your voice from me, fuck-"

！he'll run his hand over you while you're sleeping at night, sorry not sorry. when you open your eyes and notices how his fingers are expertly tangled in your wetness, he'll smirk and say "you awake? good. now you better spread your legs for me and be loud as possible."

he's obsessed with you in some way, romantic or not, and he has no plans to leave your side.

[theladybrownstarot]

How's the personality of your future spouse ?

✧ Here's my masterlist for more !

✧ Make sure you like/reblogg/Comment and follow more pacs like these !

Pick-A-Pile : here's a new pick card reading for you all ! So close your eyes and breathe in and out then choose pile(s) attracting you most . This is a general reading so it may resonate and not , my readings are not the universal truth so make your decisions wisely 🩷

Pile 1 / Pile 2 / Pile 3 ~

✧ Pile 1

Namaste pile 1 ! Let's begin with your reading:

Right off the bat - feminine kind of person . They are someone who is very hopeful and determined in life , no matter how Many hardship They face they always stand again and follow to what they are always being called too . This person is really charismatic wether male or female they have this masculine energy in them when it comes to leading people and helping them, they had be someone who will not leave any person till the end but because of their genuine nature people at times take advantage of them. They are someone who will listen to all and learn from all but they will listen to themselves at last and introspect deeply to what they want to take ahead in life with them in their energy . Their voice is really sweet and honey like , Infact their personality too but mostly their voice . They maybe animal lovers too also have special bond with animals . This person has this healing touch to their personality and vibe that people come to them when In need , this person is emotionally very strong and experienced also matured than their age .

This person could have family related trauma too or their family is the greatest teacher and support, also this person is a family person or would love to have a family with you. They are believers for sure, no matter what happens they will follow and belive to what they feel called to help them up from their situation . They are visionary and have high goals also standards . They are also a good luck for themselves and others too fulfilling life with optimism and happiness .

✧ Keyword and Extra messages : hope , visionary, water sign - rising or moon , family , saturn/jupiter in 9th/8th house , pastries, sweet voice , animals ,vet , travel , plane , pilot, mars and ketu, threater - dramatic .

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

✧ Pile 2

Namaste pile 2 ! Let's begin with your reading

I got two words first- indigo and Rainbow for them. They are someone jolly and happy go around type of person yet they are someone who will have this mystery inside no matter how you assure yourself that they are known to you very much. There's something surprising to them, and they reveal this small surprises about themselves in right situations only . They are quite shy and anxious too in general. They are cunning too , no matter how much you plan behind their back they will always know about it advance and back attack before you will even make a move leaving you in wonder and disbelief. They are chilled or have nonchalant attitude when it comes to their work , he/she's like - "aah I man I got it no worries at all". They are also cut throat when it comes to expressing opinions about someone , they don't sugarcoat at all . This is person is also into lots of self care and self love that's why they got themselves Pretty amazing in their life going with the flow. They value emotions a lot so of others too , this won't disrespect or disregard someone no matter even it's an enemy expressing their vunerable side or also in general because their morals are high so also they are quite a person with manners too . People might not approach this person because of their attitude but that doesn't mean they are bad ,they are just themselves .

They are intuitive , could be psychics too or have interest in occult sciences. They value their family a lot , also dont ever disrespect them emotionally because they are not attached kind of person ; the moment you disrespect , the moment they will leave you forever hence quite a person with boundaries . They will live their life purpose for sure so at times it's possible that they may not be available some time but otherwise they will be and are . Even they aren't there physically remember he/she will or knows what's going on with you and Will love and support you from far never making you feel alone or unloved .

✧ key words and extra messages : psychic , silent , lone/alone wolf , direct , honest , ketu in 11th house, sun in 10th house, mysterious , Venus in fifth/fourth house with Mars conjuction possibly , spiritual.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

✧ Pile 3

Namaste pile 3 ! Let's begin with your reading

Your future spouse's personality is quite vampirish , I must say . There's this aggression and passion mix in them which flows in their pain . They will be someone who will not show their anger directly rather they will Suck out the person's soul through an interesting way . Next , I sense is that this person is really balanced - emotional and practical doesn't need a lot of time to rebalance , they are really clear about their approach and action. Theirs this sharpness and hotness in them that makes them Hella attractive which is quite mix with bad boy attitude but same something more sweet equally mixed , their personality is quite addictive. They are also grounded and humble being on this earth who is ready to make anyone happy and entertained . I sense that they are also quite flirty and enjoy every moment of their life , compassionate kind of person one can say. They are like a gentleman at first impression because of their approach . I cannot deny if they are in "rom-com" alot because I sense it so much here , they are quite a Day dreamer for sure.

This person is a nature love and loves being In fantasy, when someone meets them for sure someone will think if this person is a character from a book ? Why so because they are like someone who is rare and precious to find. They will be a kind of person who is sole beliver of "free will", he/she doesn't want to be bounded to anything so they quite can be irresponsible at times . They could also be good singers or could play instruments too. He or she is always ready for a new adventure in life.So if you ever think that your life has ended , they will be the first one to make you more hopeful and motivated .

✧ Keyboards and extra messages : ice cream , 5th house and 11th house synastry , free will , hot and cold, addictive personality , bad boy mix , scorpio ascendant or mars in scorpio , gentleman , casino, piano, Venus in 11th house, grounded and emotional.

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

©️ @theladybrownstarot 2023 all rights reserved. Any stealing or copying of work will be a punishable offence.

[satoruxx]

THE SPACE BETWEEN COMFORT AND CHAOS.

✧ PAIRING: wolf!toji fushiguro x f!reader | 6.8k words

✧ SUMMARY: wolfhybrid!toji, hybrid au, grumpy x sunshine, animalistic behavior, pining, jealous toji, more blood as a metaphor for love, we getting a little suggestive with this one, nothing too smutty but toji does have a few questionable thoughts, he's lowkey tweaking out

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: i'll be so honest i had the first half of this chapter written since like september but i got stuck with the second half. unfortunately i hit a wall with this series but now i'm back on track!! updates will probably still be slower just bc this semester is looking rough and i'm graduating but !! i have a lot planned for wolf toji dw :33 as always i'd recommend reading the previous parts before this one !!

prev. | series masterlist.

you have a date tonight.

even though you've said it's just a casual get together, toji knows it's a date. he can smell the giddiness rolling off of you as you bounce around your apartment trying to get ready, his eyes following your every move.

"so how long will you be out for this date?" he questions, trying to keep his voice even and casual as he leans against the doorframe of your bedroom. you're standing in front of your mirror, fixing your hair with a critical eye, and embarrassingly enough, toji can't look away.

"it's not a date," you stress with a quiet laugh, eyes sparkling with amusement. "and i should be back around eleven hopefully."

well at least you plan to come home.

(to him.)

toji lets his head rest against the wall, pursing his lips to bite back the snarkiness he wants to express. "well what am i supposed to do while you're gone?"

"i don't know, whatever you want." you grin at him through the mirror, teasing. "do wolf hybrids howl at the mailman?"

he snorts in return, crossing his bulky arms over his chest with a wry smirk. "'m not a dog."

"sure you aren't." you turn around to face him fully, gesturing to yourself with a tilt of your head. "this look okay?"

he bites back a sigh. toji isn't great with words, but he would love to tell you that you're quite literally the most attractive human he's ever met. his jade eyes travel over your figure, ignoring the instinctual rise of jealousy that is swimming in his gut because some other asshole gets to see you like this—all dolled up and pretty like you've dropped from the heavens.

which, to toji, you have. a guardian angel sent just for him.

"looks great," he mutters, nodding once at your ensemble. though he's sure you could make even the ugliest clothing look like perfection. you beam at him, grabbing your coat before bounding over to him.

"thanks toji!" you say his name with an absurd amount of sweetness, reaching up to poke your finger into his cheek. he rolls his eyes, making a show of playfully snapping his canines at your hand. a peal of laughter rips from your throat as you retract, and his ears flick at the sound, pleased. he has the strongest urge to squeeze you into his very being—all consuming.

toji follows you to the door, watching you pick up the house keys and slipping on your shoes as you ramble to him. "there's meat in the fridge and some leftover rice if you want it. oh and i bought those juices you said you liked—"

a fucking angel.

"—so make sure you eat well, okay?" you look at him imploringly, and toji inhales sharply. god he wants to wrap you up tight and keep you with him for the rest of eternity. but instead he's stuck like this, watching you go out to meet some other man while he aimlessly prowls your empty apartment. it's bad enough that the whole space reminds him of you—your scent heavy and sweet around him. but being stuck in your house without you there? that's another struggle all together.

toji didn't even mean for this to happen. god knows he's had enough of trusting humans for a lifetime, because all they can be are cruel and selfish and greedy.

so when you and him came face to face in that alleyway, all he wanted to do was scare you off and keep to himself—the only person he knows he can rely on. but of course, you are as stubborn as you are sweet. maybe that's why toji feels the strange need to always have you in his sight, to always feel you near him.

you're too good for this world, and he would rather gut himself than let anyone touch you.

so that incessant thumping against his ribcage and the swooping in his stomach that only happens when you look at him? that's just protective instinct—a way to repay you for taking pity on an animal like him.

it has nothing to do with feelings. he definitely does not crack a wry smile when you both share a meal. he definitely does not feel a surge of affection when he realizes that you've gone out of your way for him again. he definitely does not allow his tail to wag back and forth when you're excited or happy around him. he definitely does not mask his satisfaction behind a grumpy scowl when you reach up and scratch behind his pointed ears.

definitely not.

besides, toji needs to pull himself together. because if he cares about you even a little bit, he'll keep his distance. he doesn't want to be known as the animal who came and ruined your life.

he's sure you've told all of your friends and coworkers about him—the wolf hybrid you've allowed into your home. he supposes he should be grateful that you haven't been treating him the way most humans do—like a pet. no you've given him more freedom than he knows what to do with, and he's sure that your brain isn't even wired to see him in any other way than as an equal.

like he said, you're too fucking sweet for this world.

but toji knows that everyone around you probably sees him the way hybrids are supposed to be seen, and that's why nobody sees him as a threat. but toji can't deny the insane desire to be viewed as a threat. as a competitor—one that would gladly run in the race for your affection.

(but that's delusional. he knows that people would talk, would frown as you pass by. because you've crossed a line that society deems as dirty—wrong. he isn't worried about what people would say about him. no he doesn't give a shit about that. but the idea of anyone badmouthing you makes his stomach churn and anger spike.

so no. he could never do that to you. he cannot ruin you like that. to turn himself into the scum that took advantage of a poor little human.)

"yeah yeah," he waves you off, clearing his throat. he doesn't like that his brain goes to these thoughts so often these days. "get out of here now."

you stick your tongue out again, reaching for the door. "it's my house thank you very much!"

the wind is biting as it hits toji's skin, and it serves as a cruel wake up call to his reality. that there is no circumstances where you'd be going out to meet him in a situation like this. where he is the one on the receiving end of your sweet love and adoration. he approaches to lock the door behind you, lips slanted. just as you're stepping out, you reach a hand up. he stiffens as your fingers gently scratch behind his pointed ears, so very gently. a pleasant chill climbs up his spine, tickles his very nerve endings.

(he thinks he could die peacefully just laying his head in your lap and letting your fingers gently scratch at his ears.)

toji doesn't remember when you started feeling so comfortable touching him. he can't remember the moment he started feeling comfortable touching you. but if he racks his brain far back enough he can remember that strange sense of longing he started feeling when looking at you. can remember the instances where he'd push your face away when you got too close, heat crawling up his neck.

he holds back a shiver, steeling his expression into his normal unamused stare. yet he feels like his affection for you might be obvious if you looked too deeply into his eyes. you retract your hand with a grin, unperturbed by his moodiness. "i'll be back soon."

"you better…" he mumbles quietly. before he can stop himself, he's reaching up and placing his palm on your head, just like he did all those weeks ago. sure enough he can see the slivers of embarrassment creep into your expression, the subtle dip of your lashes and quirk of your lips. he had quickly realized how truly addicting this expression was to him—almost drug-like. he had chased after it shamelessly since then.

you give him a look, a semi pursed smile, and then leave him. he watches you until you disappear down the street, and he feels his mood sour further. he doesn't like how much influence your presence has on him. when he shuts the door behind him and is only met with the silence of your empty apartment, he starts to feel restless.

toji is no idiot. he knows that he is gradually beginning to care for you. he knows that he has already melted far more than he should've. but you're sneaky, managing to worm your way into the coldest corners and crevices and light a fire there.

but he hates that. he hates that he has even allowed his brain the luxury to think of you in that way. a rational mind has always been something he has been able to brag about, but somehow he finds that it fails him when you're around.

it takes about twenty minutes in your empty apartment for toji to feel like he's going stir crazy. he's not unaccustomed to you being away—but the idea that you're out with someone else just makes him feel irritated. he sighs, grabbing a jacket and slipping on his shoes. he picks up his set of keys from the bowl by the door before heading out into the cold. he doesn't really know where he's going, but he knows that he can't sit in your apartment for the next couple hours.

(not in this space that constantly reminds him of you. the space that is heavy with the scent that clings to your body and invades his senses late at night. drives him up the wall with restless need and longing in his muscles that he has not felt in a long time.)

the streets are brightly lit, and toji pulls his hood over his head before shoving his hands into his pockets. keeps his eyes on the ground because there is still that sting of paranoia that his past will come back to haunt him. honestly he would've been fine living with only himself to rely on. but the universe must have truly been praying on his downfall, because here he is—the oh so terrifying and feared wolf of the underground, being worried about something as silly as a damn crush.

he'd figured that this brief wave of attraction he felt towards you would disappear easily. in fact, all he planned on doing was taking advantage of your blatant kindness and open mindset towards hybrids. eat your food and gain some strength before moving on to the next city and becoming nothing more than a stranger who once dipped into your life. but no, you and your stupid smile had practically invited him in, open arms and generous comfort that made him feel sick to his stomach for even considering taking advantage of you.

that's the most frustrating part—your dumb sweetness makes it impossible for him to hurt you.

even now, when he feels this unreasonable sense of betrayal at the thought of you being out with some other man, he doesn't have it in him to be angry at you. of course toji isn't stupid. he isn't delusional enough to believe that he has any right to be angry about such a thing. you're perfection embodied in human form—he'd be an idiot to think that nobody else in the world would look at you the way he does. and he knows that they'd probably be better suited for you.

(what, as a washed up bitter old wolf hybrid, does he have to offer you?)

so yes, he's trying to convince himself that this is good enough. being able to share your space and take up a corner in your life. to hear your thoughts and hear his name fall from your lips.

his feet carry him forward without having a destination in mind. he briefly thinks that maybe he'll go to that one little restaurant where you often get takeout and bring some back for you. he's sure you'll eat on the date, but he's thinking about doing it anyway. a gruff smirk worms its way onto his face when he thinks about how you'll chide him for being buying food even though there were leftovers at home. you're so easy for him to read and that makes him ridiculously happy.

"toji?"

he freezes, brow twitching. bile instinctually rises in his throat, and he feels his hackles rising. his ears stiffen, claws lengthen, and he feels as though the hair on his body has stood on edge. it takes every bit of willpower to not bolt down the street, right back to your apartment. instead he can only stiffly turn around, teeth gritted as he comes face to face with his grandfather.

the old man's eyes are narrowed, but otherwise he shows no emotion. "so this is where you've been."

toji purses his lips, mind spinning with a thousand different ways to get out of this situation. he's screwed, royally. "i've been all over."

"it's been months. don't you think your little vacation is up now?"

"fuck off," toji snarls. his anger spikes so fast even he finds it a little unreasonable.

naobito lets out a boisterous laugh—grating and sharp. "how can i turn a blind eye when my damn investment is running around in the streets?"

"well you shoulda kept a better eye on me, huh old man?" toji snarls. he feels more threatened than ever before. his body is overwhelmed with a thousand different emotions. the horror of being caught and maybe being thrown back underground. the disgust at seeing the man he hates most in the world.

the pure unadulterated fear that consumes him when he thinks that he might never see you again.

he won't do it. he'll die before being dragged away once more.

"oh you're so entertaining toji." naobito pulls out his phone, the light from the screen illuminating his face in a way that makes him look strangely terrifying. "enough games. you've had your fun."

toji's lunging before he even realizes it, the growl that tears through his throat sounding almost feral. his right hand snakes around naobito's throat, and it takes all his willpower to not crush the man's windpipe between his fingers. his other hand is ready to strike, claws sharp and glinting in the moonlight. the old man's eyes go wide for a second, but then they narrow, and despite the difficulty, his lips stretch into an oily smile.

"you won't do it…" he chokes out, strained and painful. toji's palm tightens further, eliciting a wheeze from the old man. "you know what they'll do to you."

toji honestly doesn't care. in his mind, being put down wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if it means killing this bastard once and for all. but then he has a thought, and it all comes crashing down.

you.

he thinks of you and your sweet smile and welcoming arms and everything suddenly stops. because by chance if this fucker finds out about you, everything is over. toji's mind races. thoughts of his grandfather's men coming after him and finding you instead, punishing you for taking in the animal that so clearly didn't belong to you. ice floods his veins—chilling and jarring.

his grip loosens, and then he's backing away slowly. the goosebumps on his arms are almost painful, and he can feel his pulse thudding against his jugular as naobito stands and straightens his clothes. the old man clears his throat. "you can run all you want. you know they'll find you."

"i'll take that risk." toji wants to go. never in his life has he felt so inclined to run. he takes another step back, and naobito raises his phone again.

"do it," toji grits out, flashing his lengthened claws. the old man's eyes catch the movement, and even though his expression remains neutral, toji can smell the hesitation spiking as he stills. "i dare you."

"you even touch me and they'll lock you up for good," naobito spits. "maybe even put you down."

"well that's fine with me as long as i've ripped you to shreds." toji licks his teeth, eyes narrowed. "shame that brat naoya isn't here with you. i would've broken his neck too."

naobito lets out a mirthless laugh, but he doesn't make any more advancements. toji takes another step back, snarling. his grandfather crosses his arms, tilting his head with an amused smile. "you do all this drama, but you know you'll go back there on your own."

toji barks out a laugh, though it is strained with anger. "oh yeah? how come?"

naobito's smile becomes chilling as his voice drops. "because it's in you, toji. you're nothing but a rabid animal, and you'll crave blood soon enough."

toji's skin prickles. nausea churns his guts, and all he can manage to spit out is a growled "fuck you," before he's turning around and running. thankfully, the darkness of the night acts like a blanket—covers up his footsteps until he's sure he's far enough. for once he thanks the heavens for his animalistic traits; the speed with which his feet carry him is almost superhuman. he wonders if his damn grandfather is calling all the people he knows, sending them after him. but another part wonders if naobito is so psychotic that he would wait for toji to come crawling back.

both options are ridiculously plausible.

toji stops and thinks that maybe he shouldn't go back to your house. he could be leading his past right to your doorstep. but then he realizes there is no other place in the world where he is more safe, and then he's speeding up again. when he reaches your apartment, he hides in the shadows for ten minutes waiting to see if he's being followed. when he deems it safe, he quietly unlocks your door and slips inside.

the apartment is just as he left it, and toji finally releases a shaky breath. his heartbeat feels erratic, and he didn't even realize that he'd been biting his lip so hard, only now tasting the metallic flavor of his own blood.

(he ignores how easily his tense muscles seem to relax when your scent invades his senses once more.)

toji flops onto the couch unceremoniously, rubbing at his brow bones. what are the odds that he'd run into his damn grandfather in the streets and still be a free man? toji always figured that if he ever saw the old bastard again, he'd find himself either dead or back underground. after all, naobito zenin has always cared so deeply about his number one investment.

now the only thing on toji's mind is the fact that he might be putting you in danger. you and the sweet life you've so carefully built. the life that you shared with him so willingly—open arms and all. what right did he have to bring threats to that comfort and stability? you've been so good to him, and what has he done to repay that except constantly put you in tough situations?

he thinks that maybe meeting him in that alley was the worst thing that could've happened to you.

there is a dull throbbing that has settled between his brows, and toji puts his face in his palms, exhaling heavily. he wishes that you were here. wishes that you would open the front door and chatter away to your heart's content. wishes that you'd easily forget that fool who's taking you out tonight and look toji's way instead. wishes that you'd sit next to him on the couch and let the warmth of your arm bleed into his skin.

(he doesn't mind hearing you talk. your voice has a lovely timbre to it, not too harsh and not too grating. he thinks that the waves of your laugh would soothe the pain in his head very quickly.

he doesn't like that there's someone else. he knows it has nothing to do with you—after all you deserve someone who treats you well. someone who can lay the world at your feet even before you ask. and he understands that he is not that person and will never be that person so long as ears sprout atop his head and his teeth are elongated and sharp.

he is irked by the craving for warmth he has developed. he wonders why he doesn't miss his solitude. instead the empty space feels awfully full when you're around—not suffocating, just full. he thinks he wouldn't mind sharing that space with you for a long time.)

toji's fingers twitch in irritation, and he flops back, draping across your couch. his eyes conjure up floating patterns against your ceiling, and he cannot blink them away no matter how hard he tries. it is a struggle to dispel these thoughts—the oh so valiant fighter losing a battle as simple as this. it's almost laughable.

there is a sour taste in toji's mouth because he knows what this is. that damn feeling that everyone raves about. the one people are willing to do anything for. a blessing, a curse. able to make life worth living and yet wars were fought over it.

something he never deserved.

if he had common sense, he'd leave well enough alone. it's bad enough that he feels indebted to you, but bringing any other feelings into whatever arrangement you both seemed to have feels almost self-destructive. especially because he'd be the last person on earth to have a chance anyway.

he does not know why that conclusion feels so damn prickly.

toji sits up straight, eyes burning holes into the armrest of your couch. then he reaches over, grabs the tv remote, and turns the tv on to some random show. then hits the volume button more times than he probably should. he can't help it—the silence in your apartment is deafening.

another less than graceful flop back into the heat of your couch. heavy eyes bore into the ceiling once more. if he strains hard enough, toji can imagine your reactions to the dialogues coming from the tv. his lips pull up to the side, wry and somewhat wistful.

he's pushing his luck. you should really send someone to get rid of him. he's gotten too full of himself, thinking that he knows you so well.

toji thinks that if he focuses hard enough, he can find remnants of you in the couch's fibers. sweet shampoo, detergent, faint traces of curry, and the hints of your natural scent that pushes through all the artificial ones.

toji's eyes go unfocused the more attention he pays to that scent. invading his senses and pulling fatigue away from the sinews of his muscles like it's easy. behind his eyelids, his mind is able to conjure up an image of you—and he's honestly surprised at how detailed it is.

you've managed to fully consume him now.

(all that talk of sinking his claws into you when he hadn't even realized you'd gotten to him first.

soft, untouched fingers gently curling around beating muscle and tissue. sweet caresses of blood-filled chambers, honey slipping through the valves. addictive, drug-like. a shot of adrenaline.

one squeeze of your fingers and he'd bleed all over the place.)

toji inhales sharply. before he's even fully awake, scents are invading his nose. the bus, sweet shampoo, olive oil, pungent cologne.

he finds you. his shoulders relax. the door clicks open, your unique footsteps quietly pressing against the hardwood. toji suddenly feels all too weary, throwing a heavy arm across his face because he's still trying to remember what he was dreaming about—grasping at straws.

"you asleep?" your voice is quiet, probably out of consideration in case he really was sleeping. his ears flick at the sounds of your coat being pulled off.

"no," he responds—groggy. he doesn't make an effort to move, staring at the same ceiling he fell asleep looking at. your smile is etched behind his eyelids.

"good," you chirp. he hears the drop of your keys into the bowl. your footsteps get louder. "i brought food back."

a noncommittal grunt in return, and your laugh is almost breathless. your face makes its way into his line of sight. half smile almost wry, you bend over the back of the couch and study his expression.

the spark in your eye is lively, almost vivacious. it sends adrenaline through toji's veins almost instantaneously. he can't see the ceiling anymore, your face obscuring it perfectly. he watches your hair fall with the weight of gravity, studies it like it's a necessity.

beautiful, he wants to say. but he doesn't know how to articulate that word aloud. so it remains hidden in the backlogs of his brain that never see the light of day.

"did you already eat?" you ask, and he shakes his head no. he doesn't mention his failed attempt at going to bring you takeout. screw his damn grandfather.

he sits up straight, and you walk around the couch and take a seat next to him. "how come? you aren't hungry?"

"not really," he mutters, shutting his eyes. that throbbing between his brows has returned. when he glances at you from the corner of his eye, you're giving him a look that is comically skeptical.

"you're not?" your voice goes dramatically worried, and you lean over and press a palm to his forehead like it's the end of the world. "toji not being hungry? what, are you sick?"

he snorts out a sound that sounds suspiciously like a laugh, reaching up to tug at your wrist with an exasperated roll of his eyes. "don't be ridiculous. you're so dramatic."

you grin, watching him stand up and pop his joints with a groan. toji glances at you for a split second. the hair on the back of his neck stands, a chill running down his spine. he feels like someone is chasing him, getting closer and closer with outreached claws. claws that would crush you almost easily—like paper. he swallows, glancing over his shoulder to peek out your window.

darkness is all he's greeted with.

toji sighs heavily, massaging his temples. he realizes that you're still staring at him, so he forces a vaguely disinterested expression—so carefully neutral. "changed my mind. i'm starving now. where's the food?"

a beat of silence passes, and he turns to look at you expectantly.

balancing on your knees, you peer at him from over the back of the couch, a cautious look in your eye. "you okay?"

he bristles. he hates that you can take him apart like that. that you can see the irritation settling in the crinkle of his brows. that it somehow feels so easy for you to see right through him.

he briefly considers spilling his guts to you then and there, but then that one image flashes behind his eyes once more. the image of bulky soldiers holding heavy guns in your face, and the words die on his tongue. "'m fine."

you raise a brow, eyes raking over his expression. he can tell you don't believe him at all, but he doesn't want to discuss this any further. he's decided that he won't take such risks—not with you anyway.

you look less than pleased as you watch him stand up and walk into the kitchen, effectively cutting the conversation short. but you don't say anything, choosing to just attach yourself to his shadow and follow him. your hesitant expression makes him feel a little guilty, but he brushes it off.

toji is suddenly struck with the realization that you've been with someone else tonight. his mood dips slightly, but he tries not to be too obvious about it. "how was the date?"

he is surprised at the way your expression seems to sour. you cross your arms, huffing as you lean against the counter. "not great," you pause, before glaring at him. "and i told you it wasn't a date!"

"yeah right," he snorts, dropping your leftovers into his plate and throwing it into the microwave. the droning hum echoes in his ears as he turns to you and crosses his arms. "why was it not great?"

"well i don't know," you shrug, lips slanting. you hop up onto the counter, settling in like you're about to drop the next great american novel. "he just…wasn't how he normally is at all?"

the microwave beeps, and toji turns away to pull the plate out. he thinks that he can taste blood on his tongue, but he clears his throat and keeps his voice even. "it was one of your coworkers right?"

"yeah, but like…" you suck on your teeth, searching for words. "he was so self-centered!"

toji is grateful his back is turned to you, because the way he's grinning would seem really strange given the circumstances. the satisfaction that is thrumming through his veins is almost ridiculous.

"i mean at work he was always polite and stuff so i figured he'd be nice to hang out with—" you roll your eyes at your own naivety. "but no. as soon as i sat down he started going on and on about himself and i just sat there. i barely got to say a word about myself at all."

"sounds like he really likes the sound of his own voice." toji finally looks at you, and despite feeling relieved that the date didn't work out, the miserable look on your face makes him feel a tad guilty. the wolf sighs heavily, walking over to you with the plate full of food. "here, eat."

your expression goes blank, giving him a look that basically translates to 'are you serious?'.

"i brought the food back for you!" you protest. toji rolls his eyes harshly.

"if this date was as bad as you're making it sound, i bet you were too icked out to eat."

a laugh escapes your throat, and you shrug in a way that seems to be acquiescent. the wolf approaches you, a half smirk on his face that looks comfortingly familiar, and when he is right in front of you, you watch him stab his fork into the food before raising it to your lips.

it is all too natural—the way he offers and the way you immediately take.

your lips part and close around the fork. toji's eyes zero in on the movement almost instantaneously. he is embarrassed that he didn't think twice about the so obviously domestic action, but he can't backtrack now. so all he can do is watch your mouth as you savor the taste and chew, his own throat feeling oddly parched.

he hadn't realized just how intimate the gesture was.

even now he feels like he's invading your space. you're close enough that he can count your lashes and see the flecks of light in your eyes. he wants to know what you're thinking—if your brain is going haywire the way his is. but all he can do is peer into the windows to your soul and search for any hints.

he is not perceptive enough to find anything. all he knows is that you're looking at him with stars in your eyes and that same honey like sweetness dripping from your smile. his ears flick restlessly, and swallows with a bit of difficulty.

"thanks," you mumble after you've finished chewing, looking at him with deliberation. "you eat the rest."

"you sure?" he asks, not understanding why his own voice is coming out just as quiet. you nod wordlessly, giving him a grateful smile, and his tail unknowingly begins its steady back and forth movement. your tongue peeks out to wet your lips, almost nervously, and toji's eyes greedily trace the path again. there's an almost bashful tinge to your expression, and toji is reminded of the way you reacted the first time he told you he trusted you.

(warmth bleeding from your skin. eyes moving away from his gaze. licking at your lips. flustered.)

something in his soul had practically sung when he saw that expression. just like it's doing now.

toji is suddenly struck with the thought of how easy it would be to kiss you right now. you're so damn close, another step forward and he could capture your lips easily. a sharp inhale, claws twitch around the plate. his brain dives further into those thoughts almost instantly, and he curses himself for it.

(forget sinking his teeth into you. forget digging through bone and flesh to find the beating muscle in your chest. all of that pales in comparison to actually getting a taste. to have you at his mercy the way you've had him for all these months—a deliciously sweet vengeance. he wonders what your lips would taste like, what they would feel like under the drag of his tongue. quiet little gasps pressed against his greedy mouth, soft flesh against the scar cutting over his lips.

if he strains hard enough he can hear the ragged pants filling the space between you two. his mind is frustratingly skilled enough to conjure up images of your naked skin and what it would feel like under his hands.

he swears he'd be so damn careful. just to make sure his claws don't damage you in a way that only an animal can damage a human.

but he knows he can do it. with reverent fingers that are skillful enough to take you apart and make you sing. and oh how you would sing—he'd make sure of it. sweet sighs and moans and a whisper of his name in a way that only you can say. he'd map out every inch of your heated skin until he had each detail memorized, seared into his very being.

that's what loyalty means after all. giving you every single piece of himself and gratefully taking what you offer him in return.)

the wolf has to blink away the haze in his eyes, turning away while clearing his throat. he busies his hands with shoving food down his gullet, but his mind is still racing.

(he is too ashamed to admit that similar thoughts have kept him up before.)

when he tries to take a steadying breath, he picks up the change in the air. the various scents floating around the room mix together, and yet his nose is strong enough to pick yours out. there's a strange difference to it, a spike of adrenaline and something else that makes his mouth water.

(he thinks he knows exactly what that something is. he'd been able to pick these changes out his whole life. all animals could.)

this is ridiculous. he isn't some hormonal pup that lacks self-control. he'd crawled through hell and back and made it out just fine. your stupid sweetness should not be a weakness—not to him anyway. and no amount of vague daydreaming and unrealistic pining would change that.

his pointed ears twitch as he hears you hop off the counter. you stretch out the stiffness in your neck and sigh. "well anyways, i'm ready for this day to be over. i gotta figure out what to do about him."

toji stiffens, tail going rigid as he turns to face you again. his expression is steely. "what do you mean?"

"it's crazy but he asked me on a second date."

you roll your neck again, and his eyes zero in on your skin.

(if only you knew. a bare canvas. so readily available for his teeth to sink into. vulnerable, yielding, devoted. he'd let you sink your teeth into his neck too. only you. no one else.)

"what a fucking fool," toji scoffs, crossing his bulky arms. he leans back, feeling the sharpness of the counter digging into his tailbone. he looks at you expectantly. "you're not going, are you?"

"nah," you shake your head, smiling mirthlessly. your fingers come up to push your hair away from your face, and toji's finger twitch in tandem. "the whole thing was weird. i'm good ending it here."

"mmh good," toji replies casually. your head snaps up, and you look at him with an intensely interested expression.

"good?" you repeat, with a little scrunch of your face that looks awfully curious.

toji blinks at you blankly, mind stuttering for a second.

(he didn't realize how that would sound. how truthfully honest it was.)

instead he just gives you a glance before nodding. he reaches for a glass and starts filling it with water unceremoniously. "yeah, it's good that you're not going."

"okay…" you trail off, confused. he thinks he can hear obscure smile in your voice.

"i mean he sounds stupid from what you were yapping about." the wolf continues indifferently. his fangs scrape against his bottom lip, and the urge to bite down for his own foolishness is extremely strong. "and ugly."

"ugly?" you ask in surprise, and he looks up to meet your gaze. at your confused expression, he shrugs gruffly.

"yeah. ugly." he doubles down. he doesn't know why you're looking at him like that—like he's just acted completely out of character. it's making his palms sweat and he hates it.

you scoff out a laugh, strangely amused and almost disbelieving. "you've never even seen him."

(a flash of burning heat. a roil of the guts—churning and churning. shades of ugly green.)

toji wonders why you're even defending this fool, irritation flickering in his stomach. now he just feels stubborn—unrelenting. "he just sounded ugly."

you gape at him, though you're smiling while you do it. almost like you're saying 'wow, i can't believe you said that'.

he rolls his jade eyes, downs the water in a gulp, and sets the glass down with more force that he intended. "why? you gonna go out with him again?"

"no…no i'm not going," you answer, a finality in your voice. your gaze searches his face for answers, and he keeps his expression neutral with great difficulty. your eyes are wide and a little surprised, and there's an odd look of satisfaction in them. bewilderment, too. like something has just fallen into place—settled.

a beat of silence passes.

the whole moment feels suffocating, but in a painfully good way. for some reason, toji can feel sweat dripping down his shoulder blades and soaking through his shirt. he glances at you again, and when he sees that same expression, something in his chest does an exhilarated flip. he purses his lips, and then clears his throat. "well i'm tired as fuck. i'm going to bed."

"right," you say, and toji doesn't know if he's imagining it, but you sound a little breathless. he gives you a final look, and when you look back at him, it feels more intense than any other contact the two of you have had. your smile gets a little wider, eyes going frustratingly soft, as you tilt your head.

(so that's what it feels like to be on the receiving end of your sweet attention. honey eyes and sugary smiles. saliva drips from his fangs.)

"get some sleep," he says throatily. his fangs feel like they're elongating, claws feel extra sharp. his tail has resumed its side to side motion. and that fire in his gut has come back tenfold, searing and all consuming.

you nod, teeth sinking into the flesh of your lips. "i will."

you look like you want to say something more, but then your eyes go a little more softer, and when you look at him, he realizes he would willingly lay the entire universe at your feet. "goodnight toji."

all he can manage is a soft grunt and a subtle nod of his head, before turning on his heels and heading for his room. he can feel your stare on his back, and it sends pleasant chills up his spine.

your words echo in his ears.

(no…no i'm not going.)

when he's in the sanctuary of his room, he catches sight of the satisfied grin on his face in the mirror. a little smug, a little delighted, a little surprised.

the same grin that was plastered across your face as you stood in that kitchen.

(so fucking pleased.)

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[mapis-putellas]

𝑶𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓/𝑴.𝑳𝒆𝒐𝒏 & 𝑰.𝑬𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒏

The apartment was quiet, bathed in the soft, late-afternoon glow filtering in from the windows. You sat at the edge of the couch, fingers absently tracing the stitching on the cushion. It had been a long week, though the days blurred together in your mind. You hadn't realized how much you'd been retreating into yourself until Ingrid had gently brought it up a few days ago.

The memory of her concerned gaze lingered. Her accent had softened as she tried to coax you out, her dark hair brushing her shoulders as she tilted her head, those warm, understanding eyes never leaving yours. You'd done your best to brush it off, claiming you were just tired, but she'd seen right through you.

As if on cue, the soft padding of footsteps reached you, and soon you felt a presence settling beside you on the couch. Ingrid reached over, her hand warm and reassuring as she took yours in her grasp.

"You're here but... you're not really here," she murmured, her accent lilting gently with the familiar cadence you loved. "You know you can talk to us, right? Anything that bothers you... it bothers us too."

You gave her a small nod, though your gaze was fixed somewhere near your knees. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Mapi saunter over. She plopped down on your other side and slung an arm over your shoulders with casual ease, her own energy a contrast to Ingrid's gentle calmness. Mapi's English was still a learning process, but her warmth and sincerity transcended language. She didn't need to speak to tell you she cared.

Between the two of them, you felt the walls you'd been building crumble, piece by piece. You closed your eyes, feeling Ingrid's thumb gently stroke the back of your hand, Mapi's fingers playing absentmindedly with the hem of your shirt, her hand just resting against the bare skin of your side. You inhaled, the familiar mix of their perfumes grounding you, and finally spoke.

"I... I just feel like I don't belong," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "Like I'm intruding. You two, you've been together for so long, you understand each other in ways that I can't... And I can't even speak Spanish properly. I just feel like an outsider."

Ingrid shifted beside you, her hand moving to cup your face, gently turning you to look at her. Her eyes were filled with a sadness that you hadn't intended to cause, and it made you feel small. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?" she asked, her voice soft but laced with worry. "You don't have to go through these things alone."

Mapi let out a little hum, her brows furrowing as she leaned into your side, pressing her forehead against your temple. "Amor," she said, her voice a gentle whisper. "No eres outsider. Eres parte de nosotras, ¿vale?"

You turned to look at her, trying to decipher her words. She caught the uncertainty on your face and gave you a grin. "You," she said, pressing a finger to your chest, "are family. Ingrid, yo... we are family. Tú también."

Ingrid nodded, her gaze softening even further as she watched you. "Mapi's right. You're not intruding, and you're definitely not an outsider." She paused, letting her fingers drift down to your cheek before giving it a soft, affectionate squeeze. "We chose you, love. Both of us. And we don't do things halfway."

The conviction in her voice made you swallow hard. Mapi squeezed you tighter, and you felt her fingers trace small circles against your skin in that absentminded way that always made you feel anchored.

"Is it... is it that bad for you?" Mapi asked, her Spanish slipping in with a heavy accent, each word deliberate. "Being with us?"

"No!" you said quickly, surprised by the intensity of your own response. "No, it's nothing like that. I... I love being with you both. I just... I just don't feel like I'm enough sometimes."

Mapi clicked her tongue, rolling her eyes with an exaggerated groan before switching back to Spanish, muttering something that you couldn't catch. Ingrid laughed softly, reaching over to squeeze Mapi's arm.

"She says," Ingrid translated, with a playful smile, "that if you think that, you're more ridiculous than she is."

Mapi looked indignant, her brow furrowing as she playfully swatted at Ingrid, but her expression softened as she looked back at you. "We know what we want," she said, her English stumbling slightly but her meaning clear. "And we want... you."

Your heart stuttered, and you felt tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. You blinked them back quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment with your insecurities. But Ingrid noticed, of course she did. She always did. Her thumb brushed gently under your eye, catching a stray tear as she pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

"You don't have to feel like this, amor," she whispered. "We're here. You're not alone in this, okay?"

Nodding, you closed your eyes and leaned into her touch, letting her warmth wash over you. It was only then that you realized how tightly wound you'd been, like a coil that had finally been allowed to release.

"Maybe..." you started hesitantly, and both of them looked at you with patient, expectant eyes. "Maybe I just need a little more time to... feel comfortable. I want to get better at Spanish, to communicate with Mapi more."

Mapi laughed softly, patting your thigh softly before giving it a squeeze. "Ay, amor, don't worry about that. I'll teach you." She shot you a wink, and you couldn't help but smile. "And if not... Ingrid will translate. She's good at that."

Ingrid laughed, rolling her eyes. "Good enough," she agreed, giving Mapi a playful nudge. Then, her gaze softened, and she wrapped an arm around you, pulling you even closer into her embrace. "But really... it doesn't matter how much you speak or don't speak. You're already part of us. The language... it's just an extra layer."

For the first time that week, the weight on your chest felt lighter. You exhaled slowly, sinking deeper into the couch, wrapped up in both of them. They were right, of course. They'd never given you any reason to feel out of place; this had been your own insecurities feeding on the language barriers, the cultural differences. In that moment, with Ingrid's gentle words and Mapi's warm hand on your skin, you realized that maybe... maybe you'd been looking at it all wrong.

"Thank you," you murmured, voice barely audible, but both of them heard you. Mapi reached up to gently cup your face, pulling you in to press a kiss to your forehead, lingering there with an unspoken promise that everything would be alright.

"Always," Ingrid whispered.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @wileys-russo @mead-iocre @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan

[gothicfied]

Bf!Nam-gyu / Player 124 Headcanons

Pairing: Boyfriend!Nam-gyu x fem!reader (No Squid Game AU)

Warnings: Mention of drug use/withdrawal, other than that it's just fluff (maybe a teeny tiny bit of angst), not proof read (english isn't my first language)

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who you met at the club he worked at during a night out with your friends. He took one look at you and knew he was in love immediately — Your makeup, your dress, your hair, that you spent hours trying to style it, just everything about you was perfect. He genuinely had to stop what he was doing for a second to get his thoughts straight.

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who just couldn't help but give you drinks on the house, trying to make small talk with you. The music was loud, blaring out of the speakers not far away from the bar, but he didn't need to hear you. For him, it was enough to see you up close, to see you smile and laugh at his cheesy attempts at pick-up lines. He laughed along, trying to overplay his nervousness, which didn't quite work.

જ⁀➴ It wouldn't have been the first time that Boyfriend!Nam-gyu took a girl back home with him that he met at his work, but you were different. He wasn't staring at your body, looking down your cleavage when talking to him, no, he was actually interested in getting to know you. During your short conversation, he could just tell how kind and lighthearted you were. After all, not every girl would entertain his flirting.

જ⁀➴ After a few times seeing you around the club again, Boyfriend!Nam-gyu had secured your phone number, which you wrote down on his hand with a little heart next to it. You couldn't exactly tell why you liked him this much, hut he was weirdly charming and appreciated the fact that he wanted to take you out on a proper date some time. He was cute, you couldn't deny that, so you took up on his offer.

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who stayed true to his word and texted you right after his shift, setting up a date and time for a meeting outside his workplace. He already had everything thought out in his head, perhaps even imagining little scenarios about you before falling asleep.

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who could now actually introduce himself as your boyfriend after a couple of dates, long phone calls and deep talks late at night when you'd stay over at his place. The two of you had developed a strong bond in no time, finding out that you had more in common than you first thought. And, in your opinion, he was the best partner you could wish for. Nam-gyu was attentive, always noticed if you felt bad and cheered you up, funny.. what wasn't there to love about him?

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who you helped get clean and also get a better job. The first few weeks of withdrawal weren't the easiest on him nor your relationship, but you absolutely made it work. You'd comfort him during a breakdown, wiping his tears away for him and hold him against your chest. Your nails would scrape the back of his neck, making him let out a shaky sigh.

"I'm.. sorry about that, baby-" Nam-gyu sniffled, taking a deep breath before looking up at you. "There's nothing you have to apologize for," you replied back, a bit shocked about the fact that he would think he needed to say sorry for crying. "I'm here for you, okay? I love you, don't forget that."

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who would frequently buy you your favorite flowers. You'd always ask him what the occasion was and he'd always just shrug, claiming that he didn't need an occasion or a reason to maks you happy.

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who would try to help you while baking something, but would mess everything up he was involved with. Cookies came out burnt, brownies didn't fully bake through.. whatever it was, it just didn't work out. But, you two had fun while doing it and that was all that mattered. Well, not all the time maybe (you reaaaaally wanted those chocolate chip cookies).

જ⁀➴ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who kisses you awake every morning, even if you could sleep in. Whenever he has to wake up before you, he'd pepper kisses all over your face, partially to also annoy you.

You slowly opened your eyes at the feeling of Nam-gyu's lips against your, turning your head away from him. He laughed and tried to lean over to give you another, but you weren't having it. "Leave me alone!" you blurted out, eyes still closed and all.

"Jesus, can't I kiss my girlfriend goodbye anymore?"

"No."

"Why? What did I do?"

"I hate you."

"Good morning to you too, princess."

[so-i-did-this-thing]

im sorry this might not be the place to ask for advice/help but im doomscrolling about the news and the soon to be president and im seeing so much to be scared shitless about, invasions, removal of vaccines, cost of living increases, revoking of trans rights and how it might make it all the more impossible to get the surgeries i wanted... its just too fucking scary to breathe right now what do i do with myself

Hey, Anon. I'm here. A lot of us are here right with you.

It's scary, to be sure. And I'm not going to sugarcoat the possibilities of things going south very quickly. So, let's jump into some survival tactics.

This post on burnout is a great place to start. There is a lot of overlap with burnout and the anxiety you're feeling.

Allow yourself to slow down and unplug. You are allowed to step away from the news cycle -- events out of your control will unfold regardless.

Don't feel guilty by letting yourself relax. I find it especially helpful to do activities that don't involve the internet -- I've been decorating my house, mending broken crockery, and sketching some embroidery ideas. I try to take the time to get dressed and groomed every day, to remind myself that I matter. I spend more time outdoors.

As you find the ability to relax, you'll be able to focus better on the things you can do to be resilient. Things I have been doing to improve myself and make me a better helper:

Staying on top of my medical appointments and any preventive care I can do

Working to be physically healthier overall to mitigate future medical issues

Getting all my paperwork in order, including passports

Tweaking my financial budget

Researching what estate & family documentation needs to be done to protect my relationship in case my marriage gets dissolved

Brushing up on job skills, getting new certifications to stay competitively employable

Stocking up on my medical and general emergency supplies, especially for bad weather events

Getting in the habit of mindful purchases, curbing my habit of impulse shopping

Selling things I don't want or need anymore to have a little extra money and be able to move house easier, if need be

Building a habit of fixing/maintaining my possessions instead of trashing broken things

Canceling online subscriptions and quitting social networks that make me feel in danger

Getting my personal and any queer-related files out of the cloud and onto redundant solid state drives

Downloading / printing out queer resources and buying queer art that may be banned or monitored in the future

Enjoying physical media again and hunting for old favorites

Keeping in touch with queer friends and allies and making plans in case people (even myself) need to flee

Being visible when I can and knowing when it's best to lay low

Allowing myself the luxury to dig into things Old Me would have saved for "special" events -- aka, wearing the nice clothes and eating off the fine china as an everyday thing

Shutting the fuck up, especially online, when I think my words could be used against me

In a way, I am trying to simply become a better version of myself, one who is calm & self-sufficient, mindful about his actions, and available to help those in need. It sucks that the driving factor is fear, but I intend to use that fear as a catalyst to be stronger and survive.

There is a lot to be done, but there was always going to be work, new regime or not. But please, start with that burnout article so you can jump into your own plans with new hope and energy. ❤️

[summertimesadnessirl]

Someone else broke my life.

They should have to fix it.

I have repaired the damage of my shitty childhood and my shitty economic system and built a life I wanted to live like 3 times already.

I'm not doing it again.

If someone wants me to not rot in bed until I find a way to kill myself that sticks and is permanent for once...

Idk if this is a real ancient Chinese thing or something they made up for a shitty movie, but if you save someone's life you are responsible for them.

I feel like I am not responsible for what happens to me. I am not in control of my life. I keep saving my life and "doing the work" and in return not receiving personal autonomy. I'm not saying personal autonomy like blah blah blah toxic hyper independence you suck I hate you blah.

I'm saying I should be able to do the work and live alone and not have sudden random drastic fluctuations in my income, I repaired my credit and saved a huge emergency fund and lost it and now I'm in debt worse that before. I should be able to make friends and romantic liasons and business relationships with people where they don't fuck me over on the way out and they just wish me the best of luck. I should be allowed to be easily able to afford the things that make it easier to live with my disability without having to justify them to anyone and I should be allowed to tell people to fuck off if they are mean to me, and I should be allowed to know that if something is wrong in a social setting that people put on their adult underwear and tell me in words what is wrong before retaliation against me, and that my disability won't be used against me, and that I can tell people details of my life when they ask for them without having to worry that later they will intentionally use them to humiliate me, and I should be allowed to live in a society where we normalize the idea that people who follow the rules but use them to fuck people over are to blame for their own actions and the people who are pretending to be so hamstrung by the rules that they can't help are actually just as bad and the people who tell you it's your responsibility to do better and share dubious advice with you are on thin fucking ice.

Literally I built myself a little tiny micro version of that in my own life.

And then someone came and violated me and took it. And they did it in such a way that they will never face consequences and I have to know that no matter what I do, they could do that to anyone.

Building anything is pointless.

Saving my life is pointless.

Living has no value if it's only your breath and your lungs.

I'm not saying I won't work, I worked on my business for years before I got a dime, I worked 6 to 7 days a week when I had it running well for the majority of the time. I'm saying I'm not going to run at some fucking football and pretend that I'll be able to kick it this time.

The only thing I am willing to put the bare minimum of effort into is paying my bills and trying to figure out how to die in one shot relatively easily alone in my home.

I don't want to take anyone with me or die in front of anyone. And I don't want to heal. I did that. It took years and years and every time I got close and once I did, people just came along and retraumatized me.

It didn't even take much time or effort on their part.

So what I am going to do is die.

All of you are going to watch.

That's what you wanted.

You wouldn't be satisfied with anything else.

People have been coming at me and attacking me and spiting me and backstabbing me and betraying me and liking to see my cry my whole life.

Offering them something else hasn't worked. Hiding hasn't worked. Compromise hasn't worked. Begging hasn't worked. Therapy hasn't worked. Drugs, legal and prescription. Friendship, love, philosophy, religion, witchcraft, meditation, hypnosis, vice, virtue. None of it has worked.

You wanna torture me to death?

Here ya go.

If you didn't want to torture me to death, this wouldn't have gone on for three goddamn years straight.

If you wanted to not hurt me, you would have stopped hurting me when I said you were hurting me.

This was never what I wanted ot what I agreed to or what I asked for.

“no one else can save you” ok cool well i don’t want to do it. i do not view myself as worth saving anyway. godspeed

[yuujispinkhair]

I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 11

🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna

Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes, alcohol. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 14 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear

MASTERLIST

You are deep in thought as you walk towards the ice hockey arena. Sukuna asked you to meet him there at ten for another private ice skating lesson. You can't help but grin because, yeah, you are certainly in need of more lessons. But it's a bit weird that he wants to meet up so late. You didn't even know the arena is still open at that time of night, but you won't question the guy who practically lives in the hockey arena. Plus, Sukuna is busy with his studies, hockey practice, and his insane workout schedule, so maybe this is the only free time he has this week.

In the end, it doesn't matter because who are you trying to kid? You would never say no when Sukuna wants to see you. Even if he knocked on your door at 3 a.m. and asked you to once again be his getaway driver for some prank on a rival team, you would grab your jacket and leave with him. You are down bad for your fuckbuddy, and you know it. And you will take every minute you can have with him for as long as it lasts.

Your grin turns into a bittersweet smile. You still can't figure out how Sukuna feels about you. Sometimes you think he likes you too. Like when he acted so jealous when Satoru tried to hit on you. Or when he smiles that rare smile at you and looks deeply into your eyes with that almost dreamy look in his maroon eyes.

But you don't know for sure. You could ask Sukuna, of course. Or you could confess how you feel. But the thing is, you are too scared. Too scared that you misinterpreted things. That you made more out of it in your fantasy than there really is. After all, it has happened before. Your mind is the mind of a writer. Someone who spends her life in her head. And maybe you once again mixed up reality with your fantasies.

So it's better not to do anything. Safer. Because you know that the moment you tell Sukuna you see more in him than your fuckbuddy, and he doesn't reciprocate those feelings, it will be over. And you aren't ready for that. Just the thought of losing him makes you drown in anxiety.

You reach the dimly lit small plaza in front of the hockey arena, and your heart jumps to your throat when you see Sukuna leaning casually against the closed entrance, smoking a cigarette while waiting for you.

He's dressed in grey sweatpants and a black hoodie under his equally black jacket. The glow of the cigarette he's bringing to his smirking lips lights up his angular jaw and his facial tattoos, and the light coming from the street lamp lets his pastel pink hair look almost like a halo on top of the bad boy's head.

Sukuna watches you with that cat-like and always slightly amused gaze, making your heart race like crazy. The effect he has on you is insane. You walk towards him with weak knees, feeling flustered and giddy, unable to stop yourself from smiling broadly.

Sukuna flicks his half-smoked cigarette elegantly onto the ground and crushes it with his Nikes. He grins at you, greeting you with that sexy, velvety voice,

"Hey, princess."

Sukuna reaches out to ruffle your hair and laugh that low, rough laugh when you squeal and pat his hand away even while you smile at him and wish you could just grab his hand and hold it and never let go again.

Sukuna's hand brushes over yours and then glides down your back until it comes to rest on the small of your back to pull you slightly closer. Sukuna's eyes trail slowly over your face. He licks his lips when his gaze lands on your mouth, and for a moment, you think he will kiss you, but then he smirks his typical cocky smirk and jerks his tattooed chin towards the large glass door behind him.

"Let's go. You keep watch while I get us inside."

"What? I knew something was wrong when you said to meet here at ten at night! We cannot break in!"

Sukuna laughs, and his smirk grows even wider,

"Technically, it's not breaking in if I have a key."

He pulls a keychain in the shape of a tiger head out of his jacket and lets it dangle from his long, tattooed fingers, presenting you with a single key glittering lightly in the light coming from the streetlamp.

You raise a suspicious eyebrow,

"Did you steal that key?"

"Nah, our coach gave it to me. Believe it or not, I am a trusted team member. Let's just say that when he gave me the key, he said it was for emergencies, and it's debatable whether our private ice skating lesson counts as an emergency. But who cares? I wanted to have the arena all to ourselves. Also, I am the fucking star player of this team, so I should be allowed in here anytime I fucking want."

Sukuna winks at you, and you shake your head incredulously at his typical display of arrogance. But at the same time, you can't help but laugh, and your heart jumps at the thought that Sukuna planned this. That he wanted to be alone with you. A secret night in the hockey arena. Just the two of you. It's romantic.

Sukuna slings his large hockey bag over one shoulder and unlocks the door. He holds it open for you, like a gentleman in an old movie, making butterflies flutter in your stomach as you enter. The door closes behind you, and Sukuna's tall body bumps gently into you, his low voice close to your ear,

"We have to keep the lights off, though, because I don't want the janitor to come to check what's going on."

He grins at you and takes your hand into his much larger one, interlacing your fingers and giving your hand a squeeze. Holding it just like you wished he would only a minute ago. Sukuna's voice is laced with amusement when he adds,

"Don't worry, princess. I got you. I would find my way through this arena even blind."

You chuckle softly, excitement tingling in your veins, your pulse racing so fast that you are sure Sukuna can feel it where your palms are pressed against each other.

Sukuna leads you down the dark hallway that's only lit by the emergency lights. The hockey arena seems ghostly like this, too dark and too silent. It would be creepy if you were here alone, but with Sukuna by your side and his hand holding yours, you feel completely safe.

Sukuna finds his way through the nightly hockey arena with ease, proof of how much time he spends here, all those countless hours of training and hockey games and team meetings. He brings you to the player's bench without any accident, turning around to grin proudly at you as he tugs you towards him and gently but firmly makes you sit on the bench.

The huge arena seems a lot smaller tonight when almost all the lights are off. The only light comes from the LED strips fixed to the boards around the rink. They cast the ice and the first few rows of the stands into a fairytale-like soft half-light. It makes your stomach flutter. Being here in the nightly hockey arena feels so intimate as if you and Sukuna are the only people in the whole world.

You steal a curious glance at Sukuna. He is pulling his hockey skates out of his bag and puts them on with routined moves, his long tattooed fingers tying the laces so gracefully that you find it impossible to look away.

Sukuna turns his head to smirk at you, catching you staring at him instead of putting on your own ice skates. But before you can get flustered, Sukuna is already getting off the bench and on his knees in front of you with that damn sexy smirk on his handsome face. He holds out a large hand while cocking his head,

"Come on, give me your foot, princess. I'll help you."

You feel so nervous suddenly. It's stupid because you are used to doing all kinds of other things with Sukuna that involve being a lot closer to him with a lot less clothing, and yet this here feels so strangely intimate.

You slip out of your sneakers and carefully place one socked foot in Sukuna's hand. He smirks a lopsided smirk and puts the ice skates expertly on your feet, kneeling before you the whole time while carefully lacing them up.

He takes his time, working focused while being so gentle and caring, and you can't stop looking at him, how he, the star player of the hockey team, kneels before you with his pink hair and pretty, tattooed face. You're hit with such an intense wave of longing that it almost makes you sob. You want to tell Sukuna you love him, want to tell him how much he and all your shared moments mean to you.

Your lips open, but no words come out, and you close your mouth again when Sukuna pats your leg and grins up at you,

"All done. Let's get on the ice."

He gets up, towering over you again, so tall and broad. He looks intimidating with his muscular, tall build and face tattoos, but you know him by now. It's funny, but Sukuna is the person you feel most at ease with. Even when your heart is pounding like crazy, just at the feel of his warm, calloused hands wrapping around yours and pulling you up from the bench and into his arms.

You can smell his cologne, that fresh, sexy scent that makes your head spin with want. You bite your lip, grinning up at Sukuna as you make the first tentative steps on the ice skates, your hands clinging tightly to Sukuna's. His hold on you is firm and safe as he leads you carefully to the ice.

You are still wobbly on the ice skates and not really confident you will stay upright for long, but you don't have to worry, you realize. Sukuna doesn't seem to plan on letting go of you tonight. He has one strong arm around you while his other hand holds yours safely, his long fingers interlaced with yours, offering a comforting warmth even here on the cold rink.

Skating across the ice with Sukuna is fun, just like it was the last time. He moves as if he is walking on normal ground, so skilled and sure on his hockey skates that you can't stop marveling at how graceful he looks. He gives you instructions, his low voice soft in the silent arena as if he doesn't want to disturb the serene atmosphere. And you laugh as you let him pull you along and try to get a feeling for the ice beneath your feet.

You do the second round across the rink, and Sukuna slowly pulls his arm that was around your waist away. He is skating next to you, holding your hand while his maroon eyes are on you, carefully checking if you are able to keep the balance without the added safety of his arm around you.

And to your delight, it works. You smile and make a triumphant noise as you skate next to Sukuna, only holding his hand, and he laughs, looking at you with one of his rare, dazzling smiles.

There's a softness in his eyes tonight as he watches you. It makes your pulse race and feel giddy and full of adrenaline. But the problem is that you are so distracted staring at Sukuna that you lose your focus and slip on the ice after all, squealing loudly as you lose your balance and are about to tumble down.

But Sukuna catches you, his muscular arms instantly wrapped safely around you, pulling you against him, making both of you glide back a few meters from the impact of your body slamming into Sukuna. Your squeal turns into breathless laughter as you cling to Sukuna's hoodie, holding tightly onto him.

Sukuna raises an amused eyebrow at you,

"So eager to get all cozy with me, huh, princess?"

His low voice is warm, and his maroon eyes are too, that same beautiful smile lifting his lips again as he gently holds you, his large hands sprawling over your waist, his eyes never leaving yours.

You chuckle, telling him in what you wanted to be a joking voice but which comes out all breathy,

"Maybe I like being all cozy with the 6'3" guy who is always warm, even on this freezing ice rink."

God, I sound like an idiot!

You bite your lip, fearing you will say more, and end up accidentally telling Sukuna how much you want him to be more than just your fuckbuddy. A nervous laugh escapes your mouth, and you feel your face get hot, but Sukuna grins that irresistible boyish grin at you, looking very smug.

"Then you're really a lucky girl because I plan to keep you warm all night, princess. Come on, I'll show you something."

Sukuna turns you around so you are in front of him and steers you slowly back to the bench, his strong hands resting securely on your hips, holding you, guiding you, every touch of his strong fingers sending the butterflies in your stomach fluttering like crazy.

Sukuna helps you exit the rink, his tall, firm body pressing against your back as he just lifts you off the ice so your feet are dangling a few inches above the ground and carries you to the bench while you giggle and smile.

Sukuna places you on the bench, not seeming to be out of breath at all from carrying you. But he eyes you for a moment with a strange look on his face, almost looking nervous, you think. He blinks and runs a large tattooed hand through his pink hair, averting his gaze and instead getting busy rummaging around in his hockey bag.

You watch him curiously, only to make an "Oooh!" sound when you see the surprise he prepared. Several boxes of his famous homemade snacks, two large thermal mugs, and a warm blanket. The last item Sukuna pulls out of his bag is a glass jar with a candle in it, which he lights and places on the bench one row before you, engulfing your little picnic space in soft, warm candlelight.

Your stomach is doing summersaults by now. All of this is so romantic! It makes you feel completely light-headed with all the thoughts running through your mind. This is what Sukuna planned when he asked you to meet him here at ten in the night? This doesn't feel like a regular ice skating lesson. It feels like a date!

You watch him carefully, feeling a bit shy as the implications of what this could mean fill your chest with giddy hope.

Sukuna grins at you and wraps the warm blanket around you, making things even cozier. And you smile and lean against Sukuna's broad shoulder, thanking him softly when he hands you a thermal mug with steaming hot coffee and a homemade muffin (the ones you told him a few weeks ago are your favorite).

You lift the blanket, telling Sukuna to join you so he stays warm, too. You both sip on your coffee and munch on the muffins, easily slipping into your usual camaraderie, joking around with each other and talking about your day. Sukuna brushes some muffin crumbs off your lips and tells you about his upcoming game and the current topic of his history research. And you lean comfortably against him, smiling when Sukuna wraps his arm around you while you tell him about the book you started reading this morning and the passive-aggressive insults your creative writing professor threw at people today.

You chuckle and sigh softly,

"Thank you for bringing me here. This is the first time today that I haven't felt anxious about my classes and my future."

And Sukuna smirks that hellishly attractive boyish smirk at you,

"Well, I'm glad that I'm providing you the same stress relief that you give me before my games. Look at us being the antidote for each other's stressful lives. We should drink to that."

You both laugh and hold up your thermal cups, clinking them gently, both grinning as you bring the cups to your lips and sip the warm coffee.

You stay like that for a while, leaning against each other under the warm blanket, sitting in comfortable silence while you gaze over the dimly lit ice rink before you. It feels magical.

Your heart is almost beating out of its chest, filled with such yearning that you think you will go insane if you don't do something about it. You slowly turn your head to gaze at Sukuna. Only to realize he is already looking at you. Your breath catches in your throat when your eyes meet his.

You think you can see fear in those beautiful maroon eyes. And you wonder if Sukuna feels the same fear that you feel. The fear of messing this up. The fear of losing what the two of you have. Maybe you aren't the only one who is scared of your feelings.

And yet you are here, just the two of you, in this romantic atmosphere. Not putting distance between you, but spending even more time together. Not running away from your feelings but running, or rather ice skating towards them hand in hand. Your heart flutters hopefully, just when Sukuna's low, velvety voice breaks the silence,

"I always enjoy being with you, no matter what we do. Whether we are talking about hockey or books or studying in the library, or having lunch together, or just talking shit while watching videos on my phone. I have never felt so close to someone before."

You gasp softly at the unexpectedly tender words. Tears well up in your eyes as you look up into Sukuna's eyes,

"I feel the same way. It's like I have always known you."

Sukuna smiles softly. He cups your face, his warm palm resting gently on the side of your neck while his thumb slowly caresses your cheek. A touch so tender as if he is scared to break you or disturb this soft atmosphere while he gazes deeply into your eyes.

You don't think anyone has ever been so gentle with you or looked at you that way. And out of all the people, it is him, it is Sukuna, the rough hockey player, the campus bad boy, who treats you with such gentleness.

"S... Sukuna."

Your voice is thick with unshed tears, but Sukuna shakes his head gently, low voice barely a whisper, raspy but full of tenderness when he says,

"No, let me say something, princess."

You nod, blinking to chase the tears away, and Sukuna continues in his velvety, low voice, his eyes gazing deeply into yours,

"I told you that ice hockey is my life. But that's only half the truth. Lately, you have become my life, too."

He gulps, making his adam's apple bop, and then adds in a soft but sure voice,

"I have never felt this way about someone before, and it scared me shitless when I realized what was happening. So I tried to suppress it. But I don't want to run from this anymore. I don't want to run from you when you are what makes me happy, and then I feel like I can't breathe when I imagine there could be a time when you aren't by my side. I didn't bring you here tonight to teach you ice skating. I brought you here to tell you I fell in love with you."

The whole world seems to stop. Everything around you disappears, and there is only Sukuna and you. Only the boy you love, and you. And everything is so perfect and easy.

Your tears finally spill over and slowly run down your face as you reach out to cup Sukuna's cheeks, too, caressing the tattooed lines on his high cheekbones as you smile at him, finally confessing how you feel about him,

"I'm in love with you, too. And it scared me also. I tried to pretend I didn't like you that way, but then you got injured, and it freaked me out so much, and after that, I couldn't lie to myself anymore. I knew you meant a lot more to me than I had planned. But I didn't want to lose you if you didn't feel the same. So I didn't say anything. I told myself it would be better to have you as a friend with benefits than not having you in my life at all..."

"Come here, princess."

Sukuna wraps his arms around you, pulls you into his lap, and hugs you tightly to him, his lips brushing a tender kiss to your forehead,

"I've never been in a relationship before, but I will work my ass off for this. I want this to work. I want you and me."

For once, there is no teasing smirk on his beautiful face. It's rare to see Sukuna like this, all open and honest with you, not hiding behind a mask. His maroon eyes are earnest, burning with the same fiery ambition he has when it comes to hockey and his studies. It makes your heart throb, seeing how invested he is. Seeing how much he wants to have this with you.

You wrap your arms around Sukuna's neck and lean closer to him,

"That's what I want, too. You and me."

A soft smile plays around Sukuna's lips before he closes the last remaining distance between you and claims your lips in a slow kiss.

You sigh, melting into the kiss and into Sukuna's arms. He takes his time, kissing you slow and deep, making your head spin and the butterflies in your tummy go crazy with each tender flick of his tongue.

It feels like an eternity until both of you pull away, breathing heavily, lips swollen from all the kissing, eyes so soft as you look at each other, both wearing the same perplexed expression as if you both can't believe this is really happening.

You smile at Sukuna so broadly that your cheeks hurt, and he laughs that soft, low laugh and smiles at you, too, brushing a thumb over your grinning cheeks before he puts his hands on your waist and lifts you off his lap, gently placing you on the floor so he can get up, too.

He holds out his hand to you, raising an eyebrow and grinning that sexy boyish grin at you,

"Join me for another round across the rink, princess?"

You nod and take Sukuna's hand, letting him pull you to your feet and against his tall, strong body. You place a hand on his chest, getting on your tiptoes to steal another kiss before Sukuna leads you carefully back onto the ice.

It's different this time. Not so much an ice skating lesson, where Sukuna lets you get a feel for the ice, but rather Sukuna taking the lead, pulling you with him, holding you safely in his embrace, skating across the dimly-lit rink much faster and more graceful than you could ever hope to do on your own.

It's not ice skating, but rather dancing, you realize. One of Sukuna's arms is wrapped safely around your waist, his other hand holding yours, his long tattooed fingers interlaced with yours, as he spins you around on the ice as if you are the Ice King and his Queen, and the hockey arena is your ballroom.

It feels incredible. As if you are weightless and flying across a glittery ice floor surrounded by soft light. You tilt your head back to look up at Sukuna's tattooed face, your gaze meeting his, and you see the smile in his eyes. It's only you and Sukuna. Only you and the boy you love and who loves you, too. Dancing in the nightly hockey arena. Sharing that magical moment in the place that is so important to Sukuna.

You let him spin you around without any fear, trusting him completely, knowing Sukuna will never let you fall. He already proved that the first time you met. He will never let you hit the ground. Those strong arms will always catch you.

You feel more tears run down your cheeks as you look up at Sukuna and smile at him, and he watches you enrapt, his cocky smirk replaced by a soft, wonderous expression.

"Why are you crying, princess?"

"Because I'm happy, baby."

You see how Sukuna's eyes widen at the use of the petname, and then his lips lift in a very happy and amused lopsided smirk,

"Baby? Hmm, I like it when you call me that. Make sure to do it very often from now on."

You chuckle softly as you nod,

"Sure, baby."

A second later, you squeal loudly because Sukuna makes another dance move, dipping you down while smirking his sexy, playful smirk at you. Your squeal turns into loud, breathless laughter that gets muffled by Sukuna's warm lips a second later. And he keeps kissing you, even while continuing to glide gracefully over the ice, not even needing to see anything.

You spend the whole night in the arena, just the two of you, alternating between dancing on the ice while laughing and kissing and sitting on the bench, cuddling under the warm blanket to keep warm while sipping coffee, talking about everything and nothing, joking around teasingly and stealing more kisses. Slow, deep French kisses that make both of you sigh softly into each other's mouth.

You sneak out of the hockey arena with the first hints of the approaching sunrise, walking to Sukuna's dorm while holding hands. You fall exhausted but happy into his bed. Your face comes to rest on Sukuna's buff pecs, your lips smiling against his tattooed skin as he wraps his strong arms around you and hugs you close to his warm, muscular body.

It's perfect. It feels so natural as if Sukuna and you have always been together as if it was always clear that things would lead to this, from the very first meeting in the hallway where you crashed into him, and his hockey reflexes and strong arms saved you from falling, only for both of you to end up falling in a different way. For each other.

THE LOVE CONFESSION 😭💗💗 I am so emotional! This is one of the first scenes I wrote for this AU, and for months, I have been daydreaming about dancing across the rink with Sukuna. Sighhhhhh I hope you liked it, too, and could feel the same magic I felt while writing it!

Also, please listen to the song "Black Coffee" by Nightly. It's the song that I imagine during the scenes in the hockey arena. It's a perfect song to describe Sukuna's and Reader's connection. I love them so much together.

Thank you so much to everyone who is still here reading this story and waiting for updates! It means so much to me that you are on this journey with Sukuna and me 💗💗

I hope the love confession could put a smile on your face!! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

In the next chapter, we will see Sukuna and Reader officially dating and making their relationship public. Learning how to move from fuckbuddies to being boyfriend and girlfriend.

[dirtylittlesecre7]

Hiii I was wondering if we could get a dom!cho hyun-ju x f! Reader where weve bee feeling kind of insecure so she helps prove that theres nothing to be insecure about? Do u think u could add some praise, hand holding n whatever else u would like to add? Pls n thank u!!

! nsfw content !

dom gf!hyun-ju x f!reader

(these are happening in a way that the squid game does not exist)

word count | 1,5k

warning | smut, oral(reader receiving), yeah that's all

"aren't you ready yet?" the voice coming from outside the door made you swallow hard, you looked at yourself in the mirror again. you had made an agreement with your girlfriend to go out but you didn't want to go out now. you wanted to wear the dress hyun-ju bought for you on today's date but something seemed missing, you weren't feeling well, even looking in the mirror started to hurt so you turned your head away "I..I'll be ready in a minute."

hyun-ju looked at the clock and let out a breath when she realized that your reservation time was almost past. of course she would always wait for you but it had taken longer than necessary. after a while you heard another knock on the door "is everything okay..? if you need anything please tell me, should I come in?" her worried tone made you feel bad too, you didn't want to ruin anything on a day like this. hyun-ju was about to leave when she didn't hear anything from you but the sound of the door opening made her stop.

she looked at you, then her gaze roamed over your body, you looked so... perfect. she smiled slightly as she realized that you were embarrassed by her gaze and locked eyes with yours again. hyun-ju took a step closer and held your hands. "you're so beautiful, but why is your face so sulky, hm? tell me, darling." one of her hands went to your chin and made you look at her. you could barely put your thoughts into words but finally managed to speak. "I..I don't feel very good in this dress..don't get me wrong- you bought it for me and it's absolutely beautiful but..I think I diminished it's beauty by wearing it."

a sigh filled the air, hyun-ju entered the room and then closed the door and placed both hands on your cheek, her thumbs drawing small circles as you began to relax under her touch. "I don't want you to say things like that. please. I know it's hard to change your mind no matter what I say and I hate it but..I wish you could see how you look through my eyes." her hands went down to your waist and with small steps she led you to where the mirror was, now with your back turned to her you were looking at yourself in the mirror again. hyun-ju tilted her head slightly to the side and placed a small kiss on your neck "every part of you is so beautiful, so precious." another kiss, her voice was lower this time "I am so lucky to have you, such a delicate beauty that would make angels jealous..it's completely unfair for you to feel so insecure when everyone around you is talking about your beauty, my little baby."

you turned your head to her, every word she said caused your eyes to fill with tears, hyun-ju's face filled with worry as she felt a pain in her heart the moment she realized this "who talked about me?" she knew you were upset right now but when she heard your soft voice and saw the way your bottom lip pouted, she couldn't help but giggle at your sweetness, and kissed your lips, wiping your bottom lip with her thumb as the lipstick you had just applied smeared with her "last week when we met the others, you got up to go to the bathroom and as soon as you left, se-mi made a comment about how your skirt looked good on you. well..I can't say she was wrong of course but I have to admit I was jealous. you attract attention everywhere we go and it makes me happier to have you."

you tried to process what she said, hyun-ju gave you a moment to give yourself time but her gaze fell on the strap of your dress that had fallen off your shoulder. you flinched slightly when you felt her fingers on your shoulder while you were lost in thought, raised your head to her but she wasn't looking at you, her eyes traveled from your shoulder to your neck "y/n.." you answered while the way she said your name made your body shiver "yes?" the moment hyun-ju heard your weak voice, it was all over for her, neither the restaurant nor anything else on her mind. she lowered the strap of your dress again and kissed your shoulder. whispered "we're late enough for the reservation..."

she made you lie down on the bed and was soon on top of you. "I'm sorry..I didn't mean for it to happen-" your sentence was cut off when hyun-ju's hand slid under your dress and caressed your thigh. "shh..there's nothing to apologize for." looked into your eyes with desire. "let me prove how beautiful my girlfriend is, with or without a dress." she delicately removed the single piece of fabric you were wearing, she was eager to touch you but she liked to savor this moment more slowly. soon you were left with only your panties, her fingers finding your clit through the fabric as she kissed your lips hungrily, sucking on your bottom lip and you let out a whimper when your tongues met.

her kisses slowly moved down, first to your neck, then to your breasts, lingering for a while before coming to your stomach. you giggled slightly as the tiny kisses tickled you. hyun-ju smiled when she heard your laugh and lifted her head. "that's it. I always want to see you laugh." continued, the wet kisses she left in between were making your mind blurry. you admired how she could take away all your worries, even a single kiss could make you forget all the bad things.

as she went down further, she kissed your clit through the fabric, hand stopped you as you were about to close your legs, she raised her head and looked at you "I want you to keep your legs open, okay little one?" you just nodded in approval, you didn't want to wait any longer and she knew it very well. took off your panties without waiting too long and got between your legs, her hand found your hand and intertwined your fingers "hyun-ju.." you said her name needily. without making you wait any longer, her tongue met your pussy, she sucked your clit for a while, and then she went down a little further, stuck her tongue in your hole. you squeezed the hand you held with a loud moan, hyun-ju continued to destroy you with her tongue while she started caressing your hand with her thumb.

her movements were slow and seductive but when you didn't expect it, she sped up, she grabbed your leg with her free hand and spread it wider, making it easier for her to eat you out. all you could do at that moment was moan her name. even though she had done this often, holding hands made you feel strangely embarrassed. hyun-ju always made gestures like this during sex and she always managed to embarrass you. in fact, at that moment you realized how unimportant the thoughts of the people around you were, when you had a girlfriend like this and were loved like this, you didn't want to care about others anymore. there was only her and you.

hyun-ju's movements didn't stop, her tongue was moving rapidly inside your pussy while her hand holding your leg slowly moved from your belly to your breasts, when she started playing with your hardened nipple with gentle movements, you let out another loud moan, she knew very well which parts of your body were sensitive. after a while the pleasure you were getting from both sides started to be too much, you moved your hips and your stomach tightened, you knew you were close to cumming "hyun-ju..I..I'm..c-close.." you could barely speak between your moans, just threw your head back in pleasure. hyun-ju moaned as your hips moved around her face and after a while you couldn't hold yourself back any longer and came in her mouth.

she pulled back, looking at the juices flowing from your pussy before looking at you who was exhausted. she grinned slightly, oh she loved eating you out so much, she could do this all day long but she had other things to worry about right now. her lips were glistening from your juices, licked her own lips and leaned in closer, kissing your cheek. “I love you so much.” buried her head in your neck. “please don’t hesitate to talk to me at times like this, I don’t like you being by yourself, I’m always here. always.” her arms wrapped tightly around your waist and she laid down on the bed, pulling you to her. “we’re late for dinner..” you purred, she chuckled and pulled back slightly to look at your face. “I got more than what i wanted, but I can still make you something if you’re hungry?” saw you avert your eyes shyly and kissed your forehead with a smile. “you rest here, I’ll go and make sure you get fed well.” she put the covers over you and looked at you one last time before leaving the room. when the door closed, there were no bad thoughts or anything else on your mind anymore.

[songbirdseung]

simply jaded / sim jaeyun

going into the new year single again was not gonna be on your bingo card anymore. the problem was that no other guy could satisfy you nor treat you like your best friend did. so maybe, why not date him instead?

going into the new year single again was not something you had planned for. after a string of disappointing dates and relationships that fizzled out faster than fireworks, you were fed up. no one seemed to measure up, no one could treat you the way you wanted, the way you deserved. except, maybe, your best friend.

the thought had crossed your mind more times than you’d like to admit. jake had always been there for you—kind, funny, supportive. he knew you inside and out, better than anyone else. so why not give it a shot? maybe dating your best friend wasn’t such a crazy idea after all.

with a mix of nerves and determination, you grabbed your phone and sent him a text. it was short, direct, and maybe a little impulsive: “why don’t we just date each other?”

you barely had time to process your own boldness when your bedroom door flew open, and there stood jake, slightly out of breath and looking thoroughly baffled.

"are you stupid or just that desperate?" he blurted out, his eyebrows raised in disbelief.

you couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. he wasn’t angry, just visibly confused—and maybe a little disgusted at the sudden proposition. "oh c'mon," you said, sitting up straighter. "you make it sound like i'm a horrible person to go out with."

"well, you kind of are," he shot back, crossing his arms. "with how indecisive and bossy—hey, don't even think about throwing that pillow," he warned, cutting himself off as you grabbed one from your bed.

you rolled your eyes but put the pillow down. "you're acting like you're repulsed by the idea of dating me."

jake scoffed, though there was no malice in it. "and if i am? will you drop the idea?"

"tell me what's so bad about us dating?" you challenged, crossing your arms now, mirroring his stance.

he sighed, ruffling his hair in that way he always did when he was thinking. "it’s not that it’s bad," he admitted, his tone softening a little. "it’s just... weird. we've been best friends for so long. what if it ruins everything?"

"or," you countered, leaning forward slightly, "what if it makes everything better?"

he paused at that, the room growing quiet as he considered your words. "you’re really serious about this, aren’t you?" he finally said, his voice quieter, more thoughtful.

"i am," you nodded. "look, jake, we already know each other better than anyone else. we trust each other, we have fun together. isn’t that what people want in a relationship?"

"yeah, but... what if we screw it up?" his voice was laced with genuine concern, and it tugged at your heart.

"then we deal with it. but i’d rather take the chance than keep wondering 'what if.' wouldn’t you?"

he let out a long breath, his shoulders relaxing a bit. "you always have to make things complicated, don’t you?"

you smirked. "you love it."

"yeah, yeah," he muttered, but there was a small smile playing on his lips now. "fine. but if this goes south, i’m blaming you."

"deal," you grinned.

he shook his head, still looking a bit amused and bewildered. "guess we're doing this, huh?"

"guess we are," you said, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness.

jake sat down next to you on the bed, bumping his shoulder against yours. "well, if i’m going to be your boyfriend now, does that mean i get to boss you around for once?"

you laughed, shoving him playfully. "don’t push your luck, sim."

he chuckled, leaning back on his hands. "this is going to be interesting."

"yeah," you agreed, smiling. "but i think it’s going to be worth it."

and just like that, the new year suddenly didn’t seem so daunting anymore.

the first date came quicker than expected. jake insisted on planning everything, wanting to make it special. after all, this wasn’t just any date—it was the first date, a big step from best friends to something more.

when he picked you up, he was noticeably different. instead of his usual teasing grin, he had a nervous smile. he even opened the car door for you, which immediately made you suspicious.

"wow, look at you being all gentlemanly," you teased as you slid into the seat.

"well, i thought i'd make an effort," he replied, scratching the back of his neck as he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.

the restaurant he chose was cozy and intimate, a little different from the casual places you usually went to together. jake pulled out your chair for you, then sat down across from you, trying to maintain a composed and charming demeanor. it was almost too much.

"okay, who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?" you joked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"very funny," he muttered, but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching as he tried to suppress a smile.

as the evening went on, it was clear that jake was struggling. he kept catching himself before saying something sarcastic or teasing, his usual go-to moves. instead, he attempted to be more romantic, which only made things more awkward. like when he tried to compliment you but stumbled over his words.

"you look... um, really... uh, nice tonight," he said, his face turning a little red.

you couldn’t help but burst into laughter, covering your mouth with your hand. "jake, seriously? 'nice'? that’s the best you’ve got?"

"hey, give me a break," he groaned, leaning back in his chair. "this whole romantic thing is harder than it looks."

"just be yourself," you encouraged, still chuckling. "i liked you better when you were teasing me about my terrible taste in movies."

he grinned, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. "so you do admit your movie taste is terrible."

"don’t push it," you warned playfully, narrowing your eyes.

the rest of the date became much more relaxed after that. jake let go of the awkward attempt to be overly romantic and instead fell back into his usual rhythm—teasing, joking, and making you laugh until your sides hurt. it felt right, natural, like slipping into a comfortable old sweater.

as you left the restaurant, walking side by side, he reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. "okay, maybe i overdid it with the whole gentleman act," he admitted, glancing at you.

"just a bit," you teased, squeezing his hand. "but it was sweet. thanks for trying."

he stopped walking, turning to face you. "i’ll get the hang of this boyfriend thing," he said, his tone more serious now. "just... bear with me?"

"you’re doing fine," you assured him, smiling softly. "we’ll figure it out together."

"yeah," he nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "together."

and with that, you continued walking, this was the beginning of something new, and you were both ready for whatever came next—together.

[csainzsgirly]

cs55 - “Your father will kill me if he finds out I watched his little girl fuck herself”

bodyguard!carlos x reader, inspired by this wonderful moodboard by @sunflowerlando 💓

smut (18+), p in v, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), masturbating (and use of toys/vibrators), age gap (6 years), he's trying to be cool but he's down bad fr.

tags: @softhecreator

His hands were squeezing your ass, his lips were on your neck. He was hot, truly hot. His name was Charles - which had sounded as good to you as 'stranger' did, because it sounded like a hot night in a club bathroom and not ever seeing each other again after. Just what you needed.

All fun ended when a hand wrapped around your arm and firmly pulled you away from the hot stranger, making you leave without saying goodbye. "What do you think you're doing?" you snapped, roughly pulling your arm back. People were looking at you, but you didn't care. "It's time to leave, because I'm not letting you embarrass yourself." His deep voice was audible even over the loud music. Your bodyguard towered over you, the jacket of his suit pulling taut around his biceps and his chest, stretching over the expanse of his back. "Get in the car, or I will take you there myself. Your father wants you home in half an hour," Carlos said.

"I was just having fun," you complained. "I haven't said goodbye to my friends yet." You twirl around on your heels, but you're swooped off your feet barely a second after. Dangling upside down with your bodyguard's hand on the back of your thigh - to keep you from flashing everyone while you hung over Carlos' shoulder - wasn't exactly what you had in mind as a graceful exit. After meeting Charles and making out with him on the dance floor like you were teenagers, you were sure you could escape from his sight for an evening. But your dad hired a bodyguard who saw everything. Nothing you did got by unseen by him.

It was annoying yet funny at the same time. He hated it when he had to watch you while you were going out. He hated it when you went on a date. He hated to see little boys, who didn't know who to appreciate a woman, all over you. His broodiness never seemed to leave him, causing him to look at you with a frown or a scowl etched on his face. "Are you drunk?" he barked. "No, sir," you replied with a roll of your eyes. "So I won't throw up. But if you shake me around like this upside down any longer, I might," you mutter. You yelped when Carlos put you back on your feet when you reached the car. You hadn't even noticed he held your coat in his other hand while he lifted you all the way to where the SUV was parked.

"Turn around," Carlos said, still having no reason for a small smile or to look you in the eyes. "Turn around," you mocked him, yet turning around to let him help you get your coat on. He opened the door of the car for you, looking away before his eyes could drop to your ass. He knew this was going to be a hard night when he watched you walk out of your room with the short, sparkly dress. Carlos got behind the wheel of the Bentley, fingers curling around the steering wheel till his knuckles turned white. You were the death of him. He glanced in the rearview mirror as you moved a hand through your hair, then whining when you finally took the heels off your feet. He hated how short your dress was, and the fact that his fingers were itching to ride up the material further.

While your legs wrapped around his hips and the ruined material of your panties would grind against his growing erection.

"You're such a cockblock," you complain after a couple of minutes on the road. Carlos looks at you again through the mirror, but doesn't respond. "You're the reason why I haven't gotten laid in like... three months," you continue, knowing you were pushing his buttons. "Like I said, your dad wanted you home before two," Carlos said, while he knew he was taking the bait. "You're no fun," you continue, ignoring his previous words. "I'm plenty of fun. I just don't mix business and pleasure," his voice sounds sharp, almost judging. You're used to it by now. "Oh look, a boring cockblock," you sigh, resting your head against the leather seat. "I'd call it a smart cockblock, but sure." You snorted at his response. "Sassy tonight, aren't you," you catch his eyes again in the mirror before he turns onto the porch of your family's residence.

"You're a pain in my ass, as always," Carlos says, stopping the car and turning off the engine. "Get your shoes," he adds, looking over his shoulder and watching you look back at him stubbornly. The banter, the teasing, the mocking, he loved it. He pulled the door of the backdoor open to let you out. You scooted over to the edge of the seats, reaching for your heels to put them back on your feet. Carlos sighed softly, taking the patent leather pump with the red sole from you, the detail of the red colour another simple, stupid thing that caused his slacks to tighten. He didn't miss the way you shivered when his fingers brushed over your ankle. He put your shoes on without a word, offering his hand to help you step down. His nostrils caught a whiff of your cherry perfume.

"Thank you," you softly said, looking up at him, well aware of the ten centimeters that are probably between the two of you. Carlos stepped back to let you walk by, closing the door of the car and locking it as he watched you walk towards the door. The glittery ends of your dress were hanging just below your ass, teasing him some more. The gentleman he was, he waited downstairs, his back towards you, while you walked upstairs, a hand on your thigh attempting to hold your dress down enough, but he knew it would be too short anyway. He knew your routine by heart: kicking off heels, getting rid of dress, wash off make-up, do skincare, two glasses of water, let phone charge on nightstand, set alarm, go to sleep - either in an oversized shirt and panties, shorts and a top, or just panties.

You knew Carlos would wait before he was sure you'd be in bed, because he was probably still traumatized by the one time you walked out of the bathroom at the end of the hall, almost naked. His jaw had clenched, his hands were folded together behind his back, knuckles white from squeezing his fingers, and his eyes had definitely dropped to your tits. But you were forbidden territory, like he was for you. It was tempting, very tempting. A part of you was wondering what was underneath that layer of broodiness. He was always so calm and collected, annoyed with whatever you did, but you were sure a part of him secretly cared. Because you trusted him, no matter where you went. But he was a pain in your ass as well, because fuck, there was a deep itch inside you, and he didn't let anyone satisfy it.

Carlos went upstairs to take his usual position close to your door. He had the night shift whenever you went out. By the orders of your father, he stood by your door the whole night. It was silent in the large residence, his footsteps audible on the marble floor. He eyed your door, which was slightly ajar. He heard you stumble around the room quietly, but the light on your nightstand soon turned off, silence returning in your bedroom. He remained in his position for a couple of minutes before wandering around the hallway. He passed your door not much later, standing still when he heard something. Carlos halted, listening. It was a low, buzzing, pulsing sound, rustling of sheets following, your breathing pattern changing. His jaw slacked, knowing he should just continue, get out of hearing distance, but he couldn't move.

The door was left ajar far enough for him to look inside your room, to see your silhouette on the bed, hand clutched in the sheets while the other disappeared between your thighs. Carlos' lips parted with a soft breath, feeling the heat creep up his neck, his button-up suddenly choking him. He was no stranger to sex, no stranger to women's bodies, but this felt too intimate. He shouldn't stay and watch, but his eyes couldn't pull away from the scene in front of him. Your back arched off the bed while the vibrator pulsed in and out of you, the silicon top nestled against your clit. Your curtains weren't fully closed, the moonlight that entered through the window emphasizing your silhouette. He could see your hard nipples as your chest rose with more erratic breaths. If he held his breath, he'd hear the squelching noises of the toy fucking your wet cunt.

He was going crazy. His cock was throbbing against the seam of his slacks, the material becoming uncomfortably tight. Carlos planted his hand against the wall, unable to stop watching you pleasure yourself. It was so hot, so sexy, so raw and beautiful. Soft whines and moans escaped your mouth, your hips bucking in desperation. He imagined how your snug pussy would feel around him, how pretty you'd look underneath him. Carlos was nearly embarrassed by the way he stayed as still as he could, not making a sound, not wanting to disturb you and stop the show you were putting up for him. A side of him figured you were doing this on purpose, just to rile him up even further. At the moment, he didn't care why you left the door open. He watched your body tremble as you came, the vibrator against your clit making you convulse with sensitivity. For a moment, it was quiet, and he was almost relieved.

Carlos leaned his head against the wall, gnawing on his bottom lip as he watched your chest rise and sink with a few deep breaths. Sheets rustled as you turned around, and he was sure you'd put the thing in the drawer of your nightstand and go to sleep. He needed to stop watching, but once again, he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, not missing how you got on your knees, whimpered when you turned the vibrator on again and tortured your overstimulated clit some more. Carlos nearly groaned when you turned on the fake dick as well, and it was pulsing, thrusting again against your pussy before you let it slip inside. Carlos turned away, closing his eyes as he leaned against the wall. He needed to turn around and take a breath, because he couldn't look at his boss' daughter this way.

He barely said a word to you for a week. You didn't ask why he was excessively moody with you, but you definitely knew. You knew what you had done to him. It was making you smile at the thought, knowing he was struggling whenever he picked you up from the gym, a dinner with your friends, or a simple grocery run. Carlos couldn't look at you, knowing that if he did, he wouldn't be able to wipe the scenes of you fucking yourself and cumming while he was watching, from his mind. He really tried to put more distance between the two of you, but you could see his own plan failing. You could see it in the way he held your eyes when you looked at him through the mirror in the car. You noticed it in the way he held you to his chest whenever you were walking in a crowded area, the way his eyes raked over you when you were dressed up for an event, the soft compliment that slipped from his lips before he could stop himself.

"Do you want a drink?" the question threw him off guard as you both reached the top of the marble stairs in your family's residence. Your parents were on a cruise for two weeks, they had left this afternoon. It meant that the house would be empty, except for the staff. "Since when are you making drinks in your room?" Carlos asked. "I just keep a bottle of rum there, that's all," you chirped, twirling around on your heels, your dress floating around your ankles. "I'm still working," he said, pushing his hands in the pockets of his slacks. "Weren't you also working when you were watching me for an hour last week?" you ask, cocking your head sideways while looking up at him. Carlos felt his heart stop in his chest for a couple of seconds, watching you close the distance between the two of you.

"Watching you is my job, sweetheart," he replies. "Hmm," you hum, turned around and walking into your room, reaching into one of the cabinets to get the bottle of rum and two glasses. You poured the liquor in for him anyway, handing him one of the glasses. You laughed a little as he remained in the hallway. You took a sip and leaned against the door, your heels left in the closet already. His eyes were so intense. You had felt them on your body when he watched you. It made you feel hot all over while the silence lingered between you. "I will need your help to unzip my dress," you spoke up, leaving your empty glass on the coffee table in the corner. Carlos knew he should say no, ask one of the maids to help you - and then leave, but he found himself stepping over the threshhold and into your room.

His eyes quickly scanned the bed, the desk against the wall, the floor to ceiling windows, the walk-in closet with a huge mirror. You stood in front of it, taking your earrings out before unclasping your necklace, rings dropped next to it. Carlos towered over you as he looked at you through the reflection of the mirror, brushing your hair away from your back to find the top of the zipper. His fingertips tickled a little in your neck before he took the zipper down agonizingly slow. "Did you enjoy watching me?" you ask, eyes burning through his soul when he looked up at the mirror again. There were many ways he could answer that question. He went over them in his head, reaching the end of the zipper. His fingers gathered your hair behind your shoulders again, watching the way the material of your dress loosened around your body.

The straps fell down your shoulders, but you made no attempt to keep them up. You let the dress pool around your ankles, feeling comfortable despite his broader, bigger body hovering over you. "I always enjoy watching you," Carlos' voice rasps in your ear, making your breath hitch in your throat as his lips brush over the shell, finding the sensitive skin beside the lobe. One of his hands lift to nestle in your hair in the back of your neck, a gentle, yet strong, tug on your roots tilting your head aside. Goosebumps cover your flesh when his lips kiss your neck. "But I loved the part where you became desperate to cum while that toy was fucking you." Carlos watched you shiver. "Not so mouthy now?" he hummed. "Give me permission to touch you, mi reina," he breathed, making you nod quickly. "Please," you say, a little breathless as well. His grip on your hair tightened, making you tilt your head back as far as you could.

His palm glided from your throat to your neck, finding the swell of your tits before cupping one of them, moving on to your stomach. "You're so goddamn beautiful," Carlos nips at your neck again, groaning when he feels your ass against his crotch. "I had to stand and watch pathetic boys beg for your attention," he continues, his voice alone enough to harden the pearls of your nipples. "Watch you dress up in the prettiest dresses, but I couldn't touch you," he mutters, hot, open mouth kisses covering your skin. "Your father will kill me if he finds out I watched his little girl fuck herself, but breaking a contract never felt this good." You slipped from his grip, but only to turn around and face him. Your hands grabbed onto the lapels of his jacket to close the gap between your bodies, your lips colliding in a hard, long-awaited kiss.

You could feel through his slacks how hard he was, your hands leaving his chest to pad down his abs, finding the leather belt and undoing the clasp. Carlos slipped his arms out of the jacket, revealing his athletic, muscled form in the crisp white button-up he was wearing. You groaned at the sight of his vest with a holster underneath. A man wearing a gun has never been this hot before. He captured your mouth with his again, feeling your hands unbuttoning his slacks, zipping the material down and slipping inside to find his growing erection. "Shit, baby," he breathed as he watched you sink to your knees in front of him, the right side of your body angled to the mirror. He looked into the reflection of it, watching you free his cock from his Calvins. Carlos grunted lowly at the sight of your doe eyes eying his cock, nimble fingers wrapping around the girth.

Your mouth was watering at the mere feeling of the veiny shaft, fingertips exploring the ridges and veins that would feel so good inside you. Your saliva wetted the palm of your hand before you started stroking him slowly, a sigh falling from his lips. Carlos gathered your hair in his fist, watching you wetten his cock some more before you took him into your mouth. You moaned at the weight of him on your tongue, tasting the salty drops of pre-cum when you swirled the muscle around the tip. You felt the corners of your mouth straining when you took more of him, licking and sucking what you could take. Your lipgloss he had seen you reapply throughout the night was smudged already, smeared around the base of his cock when you tried to take him completely, the sounds of you gagging on him making throb against your tongue.

Carlos started taking control when you established a comfortable rhythm, his abs contracting as he listened to you slurping and sucking his cock, occasionally letting him hit the back of your throat. He looked sideways into the mirror again, eyes glued to your head bobbing up and down, his cock left glossy with your saliva. He pushed you further down, gently holding you there and seeing his cock bulge in your throat. You let go with a gasp for air, a string of spit connecting your lips to his cock before he pulled you up. Without a word, he lifted you up as if you had the weight of a feather, walking you to your bed that was still so perfectly made up. You scrambled up to your knees when he dropped you on the mattress, watching him stand near the end of the bed, finally getting his vest off and placing the gun on your desk.

His cock pulsed when he looked at the red apples of your cheeks, your bambi eyes and your pretty being waiting for him. Your fingers teased your nipples, other hand threatening to drop between your thighs if he let you wait any longer. A soft breath passed your lips when he finally got rid of his shirt, your eyes drinking in his toned body, his hard abs, the broad planes of his chest and biceps you want to put your teeth in. Your hand wraps around his cock again, but his palm finds the side of your neck, his lips leaving a delicious kiss on your mouth before he pushed you onto your back. A laugh escapes you when his hands curl around your ankles to pull you to the edge of the bed. Carlos nearly folds you in half after he put your ankles on his broad shoulders, his hand guiding his cock through your slit. His eyebrows furrow together with a groan, watching your sticky wetness ooze from your hole with a mere brush of the tip over your clit.

"You got this wet from sucking me off, hmm?" he asks. "It better feel as good as it did in my mouth," you reply, jolting a little when the big head teases your cunt, slipping through last minute to tease your clit instead. You were in heaven as soon as he entered you, filling you up to the brim, stretching you out. It had you gripping the sheets from the start. Carlos watched his cock split you in half, giving you a couple of seconds to adjust before finding a pace that had you arching your back off the bed and your fists squeezing the sheets so tightly in your palms. He was rewarded with an 'oh my god', ah's and oh's following that told him not to change anything about the rhythm. Your eyes rolled back as he pushed your legs further to your chest, breathless cries mixing with the sounds of your bodies slamming together, the wet noises of your cunt gripping his cock and sucking him in.

You would say you've had good sex more often, but this was better than good sex. You were on the brink of a release embarrasingly fast, your body doing a weak attempt to meet his thrusts. He was in you so deep, so hard, and you were so wet, you were sure you were leaking down your thighs. He hadn't even taken off your panties, he had simply slid them aside. The material was begging to be removed from your body, the seam threatening to break against the side of his cock. "Such a perfect little pussy," Carlos breathed. "I imagined how fucking wet and tight you'd be," he continued, fuelling the heat in your lower abdomen. "Don't stop," you moan as he let your legs fall open, but only to wrap them around his hips, his hand having free access to your clit. "Carlos!" you cried out, his cock hitting you g-spot over and over again. You were a writhing mess underneath him, body tensing up as you felt your orgasm so close.

Carlos felt your pussy squeezing him, your wetness soaking him. Nothing could prepare you for the peak your body reached, freezing your muscles for a split second before the warmth washed all over you, pleasure dotting your vision, curling your toes and making your legs shake as you gave in. His cum filled you up, cock throbbing inside you. Carlos looked at you through hooded eyes, his hot breath softly ghosting over your face. His lips pressed to your neck again, watching you catch your breath as well. He slowly pulled out of you to get a couple of tissues and clean you up, eyes darkening again at the thought you'd go to bed with your pussy filled with his cum. He reached for his underwear to pull on again, soon finding you in front of him, pulling him down into a kiss. "Don't go," you whisper against his mouth. "We need to do that again in the morning," you add, making him laugh softly.

His lifts you up with ease, groaning as he feels your nipples against his chest. Carlos drops you on the bed again, hovering over you with slight hesitation. Would his boss find out if he was inside your room instead of guarding the door in front of your room? "I need you to fuck me in the car," your words distract him from the thought, nails tickling his chest. "And on every surface in the house," you continue, flipping the two of you around, so you're straddling him. Carlos looks up at you with admiration, making your heart beat a little faster. You lean over him, looking into his eyes. "Starting with my father's mahogany desk," you whisper, not missing the way his lips curled up in a grin.