#merry christmas i do not know who these people are | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoshifighting · 28 days ago

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staff!jeonghan

WARNINGS: fluff, smut, fame problems, paris trip, idol!reader is a sweetheart with her staff team, teasing, hair pulling, makeup smudging hair destroying sex, face slap, paris sex.

staff!jeonghan who started way back when your career was just taking off. you were still fresh, the kind of new that had people curious but not quite sold on the idea of you making it long term. jeonghan wasn’t even supposed to be sticking around. dude was just a freelancer, floating between gigs like it was nothing. hairdresser one week, stylist the next, maybe even photographer’s assistant if he felt like it. didn’t care much either—just did his job, got his check, and dipped.

he was there the first time you came in for a shoot, thinking, oh, here we go again, another idol who doesn’t know shit about shit, and probably treats their staff like trash. honestly, he didn’t expect anything from you. he had his walls up like crazy. you’d been doing this for, what, a hot minute? and you were already getting attention, which just made him think, “yep, this one’s probably the snobby kind. won’t even acknowledge us when she’s walking by.”

but then you went and did the most surprising thing—like blew his expectations out of the water kinda surprise. you saw him—no, not just like saw him, but like saw him. took a minute to actually chat. asked how his day was, if he needed anything while he was running around fixing the stage lights or whatever. you even remembered his name by the end of the first day, which? yeah, idols usually don’t bother with that.

fast forward a couple months, and jeonghan’s still hanging around. he didn’t plan to stay, but something about you changed that. it wasn’t even the work, really. it was more like you made things different for the whole staff—hairdressers, makeup artists, stylists, all of them. you had this habit of, like, breaking all the usual rules. you’d bring coffee for everyone in the morning, none of that half-assed, "just for my personal team" bullshit, you made sure everyone was taken care of, because they take care of you as welll.

then there was that time when you randomly called up your manager one day like, "hey, i’m taking everyone out to eat after the shoot." and jeonghan was standing there, trying not to look too surprised, but inside he was like, who the hell does that? especially in this industry where staff usually gets a handshake and a “thanks for your work” at most. while you’re out here throwing cash around to make sure your team is happy. it’s wild.

he remembers the first time you handed out those holiday bonuses. it wasn’t even from the company’s budget either; it was straight up from your own wallet. like, your money. you didn’t even make a big deal about it, just casually handed out envelopes and said, “merry christmas, you guys.” you should’ve seen their faces—everyone was shook, even him, and he doesn’t get surprised that easily. it was one of those moments where the room just, like, collectively inhaled. there was silence, and then someone—probably one of the stylists—goes, “y/n, this is... you didn’t have to...”

and you? you just shrugged, all casual, like it was no big deal. “nah, i wanted to. thank you for taking care of me, you make part of all of this too.” you pointed to the stage.

jeonghan couldn’t even look at you right for a second because it was, like, damn, okay, she’s for real. that was the moment he decided he wasn’t just gonna treat this gig like all the others. working with you? yeah, it felt different. and not in some sappy, fairytale shit kind of way, but in a “maybe there are still people in this industry who aren’t complete assholes” kind of way.

“so you’re sticking around, hannie?” you asked him one day, catching him off guard while he was fixing up your jacket right before a stage performance.

he smirked, his usual cocky, nonchalant self, but there was something softer underneath it. “guess i don’t have a choice. you make it too easy.”

he was your go-to guy now, the one you trusted with everything, from making sure your hair wasn’t fucked up during press tours to giving you a reality check when you were stressing over the dumbest things. and he liked that. he liked being the one you leaned on when you didn’t wanna bother anyone else.

but it was more than that too. you were just different. the way you treated people, the way you made sure everyone around you felt seen, felt valued? it wasn’t fake. it wasn’t for show. it was you. and jeonghan? well, he wasn’t the kind of guy to stick around just for anyone. but for you? yeah, maybe he’d go the long haul.

jeonghan was always there, like a constant shadow that somehow made everything feel lighter instead of heavier. as your career blew up, he didn’t just keep pace—he matched your energy, your needs, every twist and turn that came with your fame. whether it was press tours, backstage chaos, or those ridiculous interviews where some clueless host would try to push your boundaries, he was always ready.

you’d be in the middle of a tv show, mind racing, and then there’d be a subtle shift. jeonghan standing just offstage, watching with a sharp, gaze of his. and it wasn’t like he had to do much—sometimes just a look was enough to let you know he had your back. like that time they tried to switch up your routine last minute, making changes that didn’t sit right with you. you didn’t even need to speak up, though. before you could say a word, he was already stepping in, throwing that effortless, yet somehow intimidating smile toward the team. “nah, we’re sticking with the original plan. my artist doesn’t do changes without notice.”

“your artist,” you’d hear him say that a lot, like a protective label stamped right over you, like you belonged to him—not in a possessive way, but in a way that made you feel safe. secure.

it wasn’t just about the work either, not even close. jeonghan made the loneliness that came with fame feel less suffocating. that part of fame nobody talks about—the part where you can’t make real friends anymore, where every new person in your life feels temporary, transactional. except him. he was loyal.

when you had those long, grueling days full of photoshoots and interviews and events, and all you wanted was to escape, jeonghan was the one who made sure you still had a piece of normal.

like that one time in paris. you were there for a fashion show, sitting front row with all these industry giants who couldn’t care less about anything but themselves, and jeonghan was right beside you, but afterward, when it was just the two of you, he was the one who dragged you to some random hole-in-the-wall restaurant down the street, far from all the cameras and flashing lights, ordering too much food and laughing at how terrible your french was.

“you know, you’re lucky you’ve got me,” he teased, watching you struggle with the menu. “otherwise, you’d be stuck ordering water and bread for the rest of the trip.”

you elbowed him playfully. “i’m just trying to be cultured, okay?”

“sure, sure,” he snickered, but the grin on his face was soft, like he was glad to be there with you. “leave the culture to me.”

he was there on the quieter days too. you’d be at home, no schedule to follow for once, just free. but that freedom? it felt empty when you didn’t have anyone to share it with. jeonghan got that. he’d show up at your place without even needing an invitation, like he just knew when you needed him there. sometimes he wouldn’t even knock. you’d just hear the door click open and his familiar voice, “you better not be working in there.”

you’d laugh, shouting back from wherever you were in the apartment, “i’m not, calm down.”

next thing you knew, he’d be on the floor of your pristine living room, surrounded by lego pieces because, for some reason, that’s what the two of you did on your days off. it was ridiculous, really, two adults crouched over colorful plastic blocks, but it made you feel like a kid again, like before everything got so complicated.

you’d crouch down next to him, watching his hands move, and without thinking, you’d wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. it wasn’t even romaaaantic, more like instinct. jeonghan had this way of making you feel safe, like you didn’t have to be the perfect version of yourself all the time. you could just be you. and hugging him like that, clinging onto him like a koala, it was the only way you knew how to show him just how much he meant to you.

“you’re clingy today,” he murmured, but there was no complaint in his voice, just that familiar teasing.

“you’re soft,” you shot back, squeezing him tighter, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. his cologne was subtle but always the same, something that reminded you of quiet, peaceful moments, like this.

he tilted his head a little, catching your eyes “oh, yeah? not what you said last time.”

you puffed your cheeks out, crossing your arms dramatically, the sulk settling in. “i’m done being clingy with you, jeonghan.”

he grinned like he was waiting for that exact reaction. it’s almost like he lived for these moments—when you’d pout and try to act all tough, but really? he knew exactly where this was headed. you weren’t fooling anyone, especially not him.

“oh yeah?” he tilted his head, gaze dripping with amusement as he leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed your ear. “you sure about that?”

you tried to hold firm, but the way his voice dropped a little lower, teasing. you shifted your weight, crossing your legs under you on the living room floor, avoiding eye contact. “mmhmm. you’ll see.”

jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, leaning back and watching you with a glint in his eyes, like he was just waiting for you to crack. “you’re too cute when you sulk, y’know that?”

your heart fluttered, but you bit down on the inside of your cheek, determined to keep up the act. “whatever.”

he moved closer, a hand sliding around your waist, tugging you just enough so that your body leaned into his. “nah, don’t pout, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing lightly against your jaw. “we both know how this ends.”

and he was right. because, every time you tried to act like you were done with him, like you were going to keep your distance, it only ended one way—with you wet underneath him, a needy mess, begging for more.

like that first time in paris. paris had done something to the both of you. it was supposed to be a normal night, just you and him hanging out after the fashion show. nothing special, just another city on the endless list of places you’d been together. but somehow, that night went different. the second the hotel room door clicked shut behind you, you’d scarcely made it through the door before his hands were on you, grabbing, pulling, claiming.

“thought you were gonna keep your distance,” jeonghan had teased as he pressed you up against the wall, his lips trailing down your neck, making your knees weak.

you were already panting, feeling the warmness of him beaming off his body. “shut up, hannie.”

he chuckled against your skin, his tongue flicking out to taste you, making you gasp. “aww, so cute when you’re needy.”

and fuck, were you needy. by the time he’d pushed you onto the bed, tugging at your clothes, you were already whimpering for him, already soaked.

he’d dragged you to the edge, rough hands all over your body, pulling, squeezing, leaving marks everywhere. your hair had been perfect for the show, all sleek and done up, but that shit didn’t last long. the second he had his fist tangled in it, pulling your head back, it was ruined. thrusting into you from behind, his cock splitting you in half with each brutal thrust. “such a fucking mess.”

you’d tried to keep quiet, biting down on the pillow as your body rocked with every movement, but every time you let out a whiny moan, jeonghan was right there to mock you for it.

“aww, hannie’s being too harsh?” he cooed, as he tries to sound sweet. “hm? poor baby can’t take it?”

you’d only moaned louder, your body trembling as he slapped your ass, the sting making you cry out. he’d leaned down then, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “use your words, sweetheart. tell hannie how bad you want it.”

you couldn’t even speak, just a mess of broken moans and gasps as he kept slamming into you, the sound of skin against skin echoing through the room. and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, when you were right on the edge, that’s when he did it. his hand came up to your face, smudging the glitter from the show as he slapped you—not enough to really hurt. he is a careful guy.

“fuck, y/n, look at you. such a pretty little mess,” he groaned, his grip on your hair tightening as he pounded into you from behind, relentless. “you gonna come for me? c’mon, baby, let me hear it.”

you whimpered, nodding, your mind spinning as his cock hit that perfect spot over and over, making you roll your eyes, drool, everything u had right of. but just as you were about to cum, he pulled out, leaving you empty and desperate.

“aww, no no no, not yet,” jeonghan cooed, a wicked grin on his face as he turned you onto your back, pushing your legs open wide. “hannie’s not done with you.”

your heart pounded, your entire body aching for release, but you didn’t dare move. he was in control, and you knew better than to push him.

“what’s the matter, baby?” he leaned down, his lips brushing over yours as he teased you. “too much?”

you shook your head, barely able to get the words out. “n-no… please…”

his smirk widened, that wicked glint in his eyes making you shiver. “please what? gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

you whimpered, your hands gripping the sheets as you looked up at him, desperate. “please… fuck me…”

“good girl.”

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tender-rosiey · 11 months ago

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how would modern day sukuna be like a father? :o

nerves — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: no curses au, lovelies! thank you for being so patient MWUAH and of course, merry christmas to everyone who celebrates it!

when one thinks of sukuna, one thinks of a broad muscular man covered in tattoos with a sharp jawline and an even sharper tongue punching the hell out of anyone.

you never think of the same man carrying a pink glittery bag and his own little pretty princess.

“do you have your lunch box?”

“yup!”

he quirks an eyebrow, “you sure?”

your daughter nods excitedly before looking over her dad’s shoulder. she grins when she finally sees you and excitedly calls you over, “mama! ‘morning!”

a smile instantly appears you on your face as you make your way towards your little sweetheart, “good morning, baby!”

you take her into your arms—ignoring your husband—and you kiss her cheek, “you excited for your first day of school?”

“mhm!” she gasped suddenly, “mama, look at my hair! papa made it for me!” she giggles, proudly showing off her ponytail.

you look with a knowing look and a small smile at your husband.

sukuna frowns and looks away, “it was easy anyway,” he then glares at you, “don’t make a big deal out of it.”

you giggle and pad your way towards him, resting your arm on his shoulder and gently kissing his lips, “it’s a really cute deal, though.”

you lightly bounce your daughter in your other arm, “right, d/n?”

“yeah! papa is the best!” she cheers, hugging him tightly.

your husband groans, but—nonetheless—his arms are wrapped around you two, “you two are such drama queens.”

he leans slightly, mouth near your ear as he whispers, “you better give me a proper fucking kiss when we drop the brat off.”

you gasp lightly and smack his shoulder, “watch your language!” you watch him scrunch his face—most likely about to sass you—so you press a quick kiss to your daughter’s cheek then your husband’s.

you then push them through the door with a nervous smile, “okay, bye! have a great time and don’t forget that mama loves you!”

“I love you too, mama!”

of course, you would’ve loved to accompany your daughter to school, especially on her first day, but the darn office just happened to call for you right now.

sukuna knows that, and so does your cute daughter, so there is a reason why they were both so reluctant to leave.

anyway, back to the present.

your husband’s frown is still evident as he is robbed yet again from a ‘proper’ kiss. he picks your daughter up easily and then throws her in the car.

she, as always, finds it funny and starts laughing her little butt off. sukuna rolls his eyes, and gets into the car himself.

he puts on the playlist that your daughter made herself, and finally starts the car. the ride is quiet, if you don’t count the singing and screaming of your daughter.

of course, sukuna can’t do anything about it—even if he knows that he doesn’t want her to stop in the first place.

the school isn’t that far away anyway, so they reach it in no time. your husband skilfully parks in front of the gate and takes his seatbelt off.

he doesn’t hear hurried unbuckling of a belt or nonstop squealing and fidgeting, so he looks at his daughter, “what’s up?”

she fidgets with the hem of her shirt then speaks up, softly, “I am—scared.”

he furrows his eyebrow, turning his entire body towards her, “huh? why? you were so excited with your mom earlier and you were screaming my ear off about it yesterday.”

“I know,” she murmurs then frowns, “…but what if people don’t like me?”

sukuna is stunned for a moment. he isn’t the one to normally deal with your daughter whenever she needed deep or meaningful emotional advice.

that was what you did, especially since you are able to read your daughter pretty well.

but he tries his best cause he would be damned if he isn’t the best father. his hand is placed on her head, albeit a bit roughly.

she whines, “papa, my hair!”

he takes a moment, “I…” he starts then quietens down for a second, and even then, you’re daughter is looking intently at him.

he then looks at her again, “they will love you. you’re a good kid."

your daughter’s eyes widen at her dad’s unfiltered compliment. she beams, quickly unbuckling her belt and throwing herself into his arms.

her smile is so wide it almost hurts her, but her heart feels so full because of her dad’s praise that she couldn’t care about anything other than him.

he slowly starts patting her head, “and if someone bothers you, I will just beat them up.”

“mama said no violence!” your daughter scolds and almost on cue, your face appears on the screen: you’re calling!

looks like you managed to squeeze in some time to check up on her. your daughter swiftly presses on answer and chirps, “hi mama!”

“hi baby! why are you not in school yet?” you question, eyes darting towards your husband, questioning.

“papa wanted to get some food first, so we just arrived!”

sukuna is—internally—flabbergasted. this liar. he is about to interject, but then he ponders about it for a moment: maybe she doesn’t want you to see her hesitant about the whole school thing.

maybe she wants to appear strong—with no weak points—in front of her mother. then he breathes out a chuckle, at least she takes after him in something.

“sukuna! she could’ve been late!” you huff then sigh, “good thing that you guys moved early anyway.”

your eyes then focus on your daughter, “how’re you feeling?”

“excited!”

“any nerves or anything?” you ask knowingly, but she shakes her head.

she hugs sukuna tighter, “I was a little nervous, but papa made me feel better!”

you grin, “did he now?”

he notices the teasing glint behind your eyes and looks away to avoid your gaze. your daughter giggles at her dad’s behaviour, and so do you.

and your husband has never felt more teamed up on than now. she hears the bell rings, “oh! I gotta go now!”

“bye papa!” she kisses her dad’s cheek, “bye mama!” then kisses the phone’s screen. you blow her a kiss back, and she dashes out of the car, ready to start her day.

even while walking towards the building, she turns again to her dad and waves at him happily.

sukuna nods and she grins, switching her focus back on the school. his focus is on her intently, until you speak up, “I am proud of you.”

his gaze snaps to you, expecting a teasing smirk, but instead you’re smiling warmly at him. his heart contracts in a way that makes him feel weird, and he can’t find it in him to give you a snarky reply.

he groans, “she is my daughter as much as she is yours, y’know.”

you hum, “of course, she is,” he hears rustling on the other line, so he assumes you’re checking some papers before turning to him again, “she takes after you in more ways than one.”

“yeah, I noticed,” he says quietly, and you laugh.

he notices from the corner of his eyes his daughter laughing excitedly with a bunch of others girls, and he lets out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.

you tap on your desk a little, “you nervous?”

“if someone hurts her, I will kill them.”

“I figured."

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

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gyudons · 11 months ago

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During the last practice in Pittsburgh before the holiday break, Sidney Crosby brought cookies to the rink along with, of course, some banana bread – “his mom’s famous recipe,” Marcus Pettersson said with a grin. “He’s got a little addiction,” Kris Letang added.

Crosby bakes for the group periodically throughout the season, one of many thoughtful gestures the Penguins captain makes for his teammates – impressive from anyone, much less someone of his stature. During this season of giving, Pettersson and Rickard Rakell had been marveling at the captain’s generous nature that very day.

“Me and Raks were actually just joking around about how good he is with giving gifts,” Pettersson said. “I don't know if he has a thought behind it about when he retires, that he is expecting a lot of gifts back from everybody (laughs). But I don't think so. I think he’s just a great guy.”

Crosby goes above and beyond to mark occasions for the people around him, whether it’s a holiday, a career achievement, or simply a memorable experience. His capacity to do all of that, in addition to continuing to be an elite talent at age 36 and an unparalleled leader, is remarkable.

Evgeni Malkin, Crosby’s fellow franchise center and teammate for nearly two decades, said, “It’s almost like he’s the perfect player, perfect friend. Some guys win just one Stanley Cup, they think they’re like a god, you know? But Sid, never. You see everybody wants to play here, first of all, it’s because of Sid.”

Letang joked that he wasn’t going to use the word perfect, “because there’s nothing perfect,” he laughed. “But he always makes sure everybody is taken care of, and they’re having a good time. He loves to get to know people. For me, what he did for my dad last year… the banana bread stuff… it’s just a way of looking at things, you never want to leave some people behind. There’s not a specific gesture that comes to mind, because it’s such a daily thing for him.”

Tyson Barrie, was touched by something the captain did for his agent, Bayne Pettinger, who had previously worked for Team Canada. Pettinger had been sitting with Crosby at another one of those BioSteel camps, which was in Montreal. At the time, Pettinger had recently come out as gay and mentioned in passing to Crosby how he thought the Pride warmup jerseys were so cool.

“Bayner FaceTimed me a couple months later, almost in tears,” Barrie said. “The concierge at his condo called him and was like hey, there’s a big package here for you, can you come down and grab it? Turns out Sid had gotten a Pride jersey framed for Bayner. He wrote, ‘Bayner, proud of you.’ That’s the kind of guy he is. You'll never hear about any of this stuff. He's just always doing stuff under the radar. He’s just a special guy.”

merry christmas! here’s a sweet little story about canadian hockey star sidney crosby

#so interesting to me #sidney crosby #pittsburgh penguins #christmas #hockey #nhl #bayne pettinger #evgeni malkin #kris letang #lgbt #lgbtq

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personasintro · 11 months ago

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A part of Mutual Help series!

pairing: mh!jungkook x reader

warnings: explicit language, Kiko is mentioned (this deserves it's own warning)

genre: fluff

word count: 1.8k+

a/n: Merry Christmas! ♡

Mutual Help Series

“Oooh, what could be in here?” Taehyung muses, pursing his reddened lips that has gotten its own intense color thanks to the cold weather outside.

What was he doing outside when you've been at this place for around an hour? Flirting, of course.

“Knowing you, probably tons of condoms.” you answer, causing Taehyung to stop shaking the present he's just gotten from Jimin. It stops rattling under his grip as he shoots you a glare across the table.

Unfazed, you reach with your chopsticks for a piece of meat before you put it in your mouth. Next to you, Jungkook cackles under his breath and Jimin looks proud by your little comment.

“Well, miss I-don't-need-anyone, we all like to have our fun. Maybe you should try it.” Taehyung bites back. Though his tone sounds serious and deep with his thick accent, there's a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

You know how far you can take it to joke with each of your friends. Taehyung's got a thick skin and there's only so little you could actually say to offend him. Not that you would ever want to. Taehyung loves jokes and fun, he loves teasing and most of the time he's the one who takes it too far but never to actually cause a damage to your friendship. Whatever he says, you know should not be taken to heart literally. Therefore, no matter what he says about your single life – you don't take it as an insult.

“Hooking up with a bunch of strangers? No thanks.”

He grins, “Maybe you should try it.”

“You offering?” you shoot right back, Jungkook choking on his soda as Jimin laughs out loud.

“You know what? Once you grow up a little, text me.”

You snort, “Stop acting as if I was a child.”

Taehyung shrugs, “No, but you're the baby of our group.”

Groaning, you frown. “Don't call me that.”

“Deny it all you want, Y/L/N but we all know the truth.”

“You guys scare almost every guy that looks at me. It beats the point of having fun.”

“Don't say shit like that, now! I'm all for you exploring and having fun.”

“Our point of fun is slightly different than hers, Tae.” Jimin comments, putting more meat to your plate as you thank him with a grateful smile. For the meat, of course. Although, he's not that off about the entire fun topic.

“We all know what kind of fun we're talking about.”

“Alright, let's move on, yeah?” Jungkook calls, shaking his head at Taehyung.

“Here we go, protective Jungkook.”

“Why do you always somehow bring up sex in every conversation?” Jungkook scolds him.

Taehyung gasps, feigning offense as he points his finger at you. “First of all, she started talking about condoms!”

Jimin laughs out loud while you shoot him a glare for being too loud. God, you hope the owners won't kick you out. Talking so publicly about sex is often frowned upon. No one who wants to enjoy their meal wants to hear someone talking about sex from the other table. Unless those people are… open like Taehyung. He's always been a bit shameless.

Jungkook glances at you upon Taehyung's finger that's directed toward you. You shrug innocently. “So what? You automatically got into it.”

“You know it doesn't take too much for me.”

“That's true.” Jimin nods along with Taehyung's response.

You laugh, “Just open the goddamn present, Tae.”

He cracks a grin and starts laughing before he rips the package open. Surprisingly, it's not condoms – you would seriously laugh your ass out if it were – but it's a box of popular male fragrances in smaller versions. You recognize all of them, silently praising Jimin for this year's present.

You all exchange presents for each other. There was an idea coming from Jimin, you think, last year to pick up a secret Santa for each year. But there's something special and thoughtful about buying everyone a gift. And it makes a slight burden to all your wallets, but nobody said the presents have to be expensive. Yet, they're always meaningful and nobody gives shitty presents here.

You meet every year before Christmas since all of you spend it with your families. You've decided to make your own and celebrate it together, even if it's beforehand. This year it has to be because you're flying back home sooner than usual.

They were kind enough to meet no matter what, said it wouldn't be the same if you weren't here.

After that is done, Jungkook is the one to take you home since Taehyung came to pick you up. There's fog everywhere with snow sitting down and not melting anytime soon. You love when there's snow around Christmas time.

On your way home, it's not that late by the time you arrive. Jungkook helps you with your presents upstairs and accepts a cup of tea you offer him with a stern look. You're quick to shed the layers of clothes and make yourself more comfortable. You bring Jungkook his tea and make a hot chocolate for yourself.

“What you got in there?” you ask, plopping next to him as the warmth and scent of home hugs you.

“A little something,” he says with a cheeky grin.

Spotting the same Christmas wrapping paper he has used for all his presents, you give him a knowing look. You're about to protest and scold the shit out of him when he shakes his head with another grin.

“Stop.”

“No, you stop!” you whine, “You already gave me your present.”

And it was great. Jungkook has given you two tickets to a water park that's located on Jeju Island. That alone tells you it wasn't quite cheap.

“It's not much, I swear.”

“But why? We all decided on one present.”

Grateful that he's so thoughtful, you're slightly annoyed that he broke the rule that perhaps never was so serious but it makes you feel bad.

“Just because.”

“That's not a valid reason.”

“Sounds very valid to me,” he sings out, teasing you a little further as you both giggle. “You'll understand it once you open it.” he finishes it with that, urging you to open it.

Hiding the heat in your cheeks, you playfully roll your eyes and start unboxing the little box he has managed to sneak in his jacket. Curiosity and excitement takes over you because Jungkook's presents are always something else. You rip the package and gasp as soon as you recognize the familiar box.

“Kook!”

“You told me you ran out the other day.”

“Did you–”

“Bought it when Jimin bought Taehyung's present? Yeah.” He answers, already knows what you were about to ask. But you're too stunned to scold him for interrupting you.

You open the box and pull out your favorite perfume. A few weeks ago, you don't even know how that conversation came up but you mentioned to him that your perfume is running out indeed. It wasn't anything intentional of course, more of a whine when you were about to spray a tiny amount as you were about to go out. You thought he was barely listening to you, urging you to rush out your ass outside. His exact words.

But he's always listening.

“I think I'm gonna be more careful what I'm about to say in front of you. You're gonna buy me everything I mentioned.” you chuckle, taking a good inhale of your favorite flowery and powdery scent. You mostly use it during warm seasons but it's a good one even in the winter.

It's your staple scent. Everyone knows it. It's special. You were using it back at home and it not only smells incredible, it also holds a certain emotional attachment you have with it.

“Don't worry about that, you're out of my budget.”

You kick the side of his thigh as you cross your legs under your butt, carefully placing the bottle on the table next to the ripped wrapping paper. “I wanted to buy it after Christmas.”

“You don't have to anymore.”

You give him a look, questioning his answer for everything as he simply justifies his thoughtfulness in the most basic manner. He always brushes it like it's nothing. But it's very special to you. He is.

In seconds, you wrap your arms around him and hug him tightly. He lets out a surprised gasp, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he hugs you back. He's warm, smells like a mixture of his wooden cologne and winter air.

“Thank you.” you mumble into his shoulder before you slowly pull away. “But seriously, you should stop spending so much money on me. Don't you have a girlfriend to spend money on?”

As far as you know, she's fine with it but who knows. Jungkook isn't the type to let anyone get into your or guys' friendships. But he's also in love and people in love tend to be slightly blind, if you must say so. Not that you speak from your own experiences but well, it's quite known. And Jungkook is definitely in love.

“Don't worry about Kiko,” he assures you, “She'll get a good amount of presents too.”

“Well, I hope she loves you for you and not for your bank account.”

He scowls, causing you to give him a childish toothy grin that acts innocent. “She's not like that.”

“But I'm serious, you should stop spending so much money on people. Especially on me.”

“I spend my money however I want and you know what?” he asks with a grin, leaning closer to you as you watch him with wide eyes. “It's none of your business.” he flicks your nose with his thumb causing you to cuss him out as you push his forehead to get him away from your proximity.

“So really, just accept it.”

“You're stubborn.”

“You're telling me?” he laughs out loud as if you just told him the biggest joke.

Rolling your eyes again, you purse your lips. “I wanted to be nice, you moron.”

“Be nice by just accepting it. And the simple thanks is just enough, not needed though. The hug was very nice.”

You slap his arm in a teasing manner which causes him to laugh even more. “I'll hug you for the rest of my life.”

“Promise?” he smirks.

“I promise.” you giggle, nodding.

“Well, then Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Kook.” you smile, the warmth spreading all over your heart. Even though this year hasn't been all rainbow and sunshine, it's alright as long as you have these people right beside you.

Who cares about presents? They're nice and show the thoughtfulness behind them by each of your friends. What you need the most is just them. And the special relationship you have with each of them will hopefully last your lifetime. Because if it doesn't, nothing will ever be the same.

Without them you would feel lost. At the moment, you're anything but lost. You have your second family, hoping this tradition between you never dies and will continue years and years.

#bts fluff #bts angst #bts au #bts smut #mutual help #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #personasintro

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 11 months ago

Text

Quid Pro Quo | Michael Gavey x fem!reader

Summary: After being ditched by her friend at the Trinity College Christmas Party, she finds herself enthralled with learning the language of Michael Gavey | Word Count: 3.8k~ | Warnings below the cut!

Part Two: Carpe Diem Part Three: Veni, Vidi, Vici

warnings: virgin michael, semi-public sexual conduct, oral sex (m receiving), heavy petting

If she has to listen to Professor Wardon swoon over Ancient Greek and how it ‘drove him to pursue his dreams in extending his passion to other students’, she thinks she might actually fall asleep.

She's in a good spot to do so, nestled between two other students, the one on her right seemingly just as bored as her, and conveniently hidden behind a tall, lanky first year, who sits straight, with his head perfectly obscuring hers as he fixes his posture regularly.

Several times throughout, she's checked her watch, and yet the second hand never seems to move an inch.

Professor Wardon is just about to go on a lovesick spiel about Homeric Greek when the lecture concludes with a heaved sigh from every student as they sling their hefty bags over their shoulders.

“Remember I want 2,500 words on Les Liaisons dangereuses in my pigeon hole by next Thursday, before your Christmas parties!”

“Oh joy,” she sighs with a grin to the girl walking shoulder to shoulder beside her as they leave, feeling noticeably lighter knowing that that's their last lecture before Christmas break.

“Christ, you're telling me. I can't be arsed to even right my own name at the moment, nevermind read 18th century fucking French.”

She gives a snort in reply, “Merry Christmas to us, eh? Should do what the French do and have a revolution or something.”

“Yeah, eat our lecturers or something.”

“Alright, I wouldn't go that far.”

“Anyway, I'm off to T Library, see ya, have a good Christmas and don't do anything I wouldn't!”

She waves her off as her friend disappears, the cold air of the outside nipping at her skin that manages to sneak beneath her coat.

Oxford University is not what she imagined at all. She came here very much feeling like an outsider, like there'd been some sort of paperwork mistake and it was supposed to be someone else in her place.

The imposter syndrome seemed difficult to shift, but she'd at least managed to make a couple of friends since starting in September.

Languages had always found her well, and seemingly the only thing she managed to actually understand. People were inconsistent, cruel and fickle. Languages, though they shifted and changed, were firmly rooted in reason and understanding.

As sad as it sounded, conjugating verbs, vowel shifts and rare dialects were the one thing she found herself itching to discover more about. The idea that there was more to uncover seemed exciting and scary at the same time.

And Oxford University was the best place she could be to do that.

All that said, her eagerness to get involved with her studies had left her social life with much to be desired.

In the first two weeks of university alone, she'd gained one friend and lost a boyfriend. And while they were drifting apart anyway, it was still a relatively large blow to her self-esteem and her confidence to actually get out there, socialise and make the most of her first year of freedom.

The only friends she'd made were those on her course. Priya, who'd just abandoned her to stick her nose in books about the Great Vowel Shift, and Anya, who…to be honest, rarely left her room. Seeming more like a ghost than anything else.

It was a wonder she was still a student, with how often she missed classes.

What Anya does do best, is manage to somehow rise out of her pit to drag her to Christmas parties that aren't even run by their college.

Which is why she finds herself somehow at Trinity College campus, where she eyes several scantily clad women wearing revealing Santa costumes adorned with itchy tinsel.

Anya is the sort of girl who, well, every girl kind of wants to be. So much so she sort of wonders why she hangs around with her. She's pretty, fit and fucking clever. Her only downfall is her taste in men, so often being Oxford pretty boys.

So it is absolutely no surprise at all, when two jägerbombs in, Anya has somehow slipped into the arms of one aforementioned Oxford pretty boy, seeming in every way a clone of the previous, with the exception of the way he pairs his Ayia Nappa top with his low rise jeans and the only effort to conform to theme, is a pair of plastic reindeer antlers on his head bobbling side to side.

She grimaces as she watches them suck each other's faces off in a dark corner of the room, ‘Stay Another Day’ by East 17 blaring with a cheap crackle through the speakers as she makes her way through the bodies to somewhere quiet.

She sighs, nursing the rum and coke Anya had sloppily poured her in one hand as she closes the door behind her, shutting out the drunken squeals and cheers for the peace of a quiet common room.

It's still decorated, she notes, but empty. Maybe she could lurk here until Anya is done, if she ever will be.

The deep clack of a pool ball being sucked into a socket makes her jump, realising perhaps that she was not actually alone, as she'd previously thought.

The cool light hung above the battered pool table illuminates his deep red jumper, and the first thing she sees is the way he leans on one leg, standing straight as if he was imitating the rigid pool cue leant before him. The yellow lined detailing around the cuffs highlights his small wrists and big hands that stretch from it as he rubs blue chalk onto the tip.

Her eyes trail up the back of his neck, past the lazy waves of dark blonde hair, clearly due a trim at some point, and to his face, even from this angle able to see how his features sit. With a sharp nose and jawline, and black skinny glasses perched above his cheekbones.

She almost laughs at the way he's almost as tall as the light that illuminates the table, half-thinking that she might never have seen such a strange and yet interesting looking guy.

“Didn't fancy the party?” she finally says, alerting him to her presence.

She doesn't quite expect the way the light bounces off his sharp features, sinking his blue eyes in shadow as his head turns to her with an expression of boredom.

“Not particularly, no.”

His voice is lighter than she thought it would be and part of her wonders if he's putting it on. He presses his glasses further up his nose before assessing his next shot, stalking around the table.

“Why's that?”

This time, when he answers, he doesn't look at her. He simply leans down, and aims.

“Not. Fucking. Invited,” he replies bitterly, missing a yellow, “that's why.”

Her fingertips moisten against the glass as the ice begins to melt, but she pays it no mind.

“So you're lurking about in here instead.”

He plays with the cue in one hand, barely sparing a second glance, a bitter, quiet laugh escaping him.

He misses another red before he heaves a sigh, straightening to look at her again.

“You here alone as well?” he asks dispassionately.

She smiles lazily and shrugs.

“My mate is…a bit preoccupied, if you know what I mean,” she replies, taking an awkward sip of the now watered down drink, “like you, I don't really think these are my thing either.”

He seems to consider her statement for a moment.

“Why come then?”

She shrugs again, “trying to be sociable.”

“With those vapid cunts? Good luck getting any intelligent conversation out of them.”

She watches as he picks up the blue chalk again, applying more when he doesn't even need it in sort of a nervous gesture, his blue eyes averted and pretending to assess his next move.

There's something about him. How judgemental he is and how he forms his words. Perhaps she hadn't expected this sort of guy to be so outwardly honest with his opinions, and for the most part, she can't say she disagrees with the message, just the way in which he said it.

“Can I play?” She asks, leaning over to put her drink down.

“What are you reading?” He asks so suddenly, and out of context, that she does a double take.

She raises her eyebrows, smiling, “Does my answer depend on if I get to play or not?”

There's no answer from him. Shocker of the century.

“Modern Languages.”

“Fucking hell,” he groans.

She's a bit too happy and dizzy on rum to get defensive.

“Is that one of those subjects that sounds way less interesting than it actually ends up being?”

She gives a breathy laugh, “just like languages.”

He hums, as if the answer didn't impress him, “more of a science and numbers man myself, obviously.”

For a moment, it's lost on her why it's obvious.

He takes a sip of his, no doubt, stale beer, wetting his lips after, “Your name is?”

She narrows her eyes teasingly, smiling as she leans against the table, “quid pro quo.”

She enjoys the brief confusion on his face, before he realises what she's said.

“Okay, okay, Michael.”

She smiles, “See? You know what that meant. Who says you're not a languages man?”

It's the first time he seems to duck his head, hiding a blush she's barely able to see.

“I don’t think the Ancient Roman idea of fair exchange warrants the title of ‘languages man’.”

The blue chalk comes off on his hands as he fiddles nervously with it.

“So, am I bestowed the privilege of playing?”

He raises his head, and she can tell he's trying his damndest to not let a little beer-induced smile pass his lips.

“I suppose I could allow you to embarrass yourself in front of me for a bit, if you insist. We'll have to share a cue though.”

She doesn't have the heart to tell him her uncle was a pool player, and so by extension, has played pool for most of her upbringing. Rather, he finds out himself when she pots three yellows in a row.

It's either the alcohol or pity that kicks in when she misses the fourth, holding the cue for him to take.

“You being good at pool wasn't on my bingo card,” he mutters with some nervous teasing in his voice.

They go back and forth for a bit, missing some, potting some, with interspersed conversation between.

“Thought you might have been a Norman-no -mates, like me,” he says quietly as he watches her assess her next shot. Bending to aim.

“You're not far off,” she replies, “first fortnight I was down a boyfriend. Since then, I've only been up two friends and one of them is in the other room having ditched me for the shag of a lifetime.”

She doesn't see it until after she takes the shot, the way his eyes flit back to hers quickly as she rights herself to stand.

Was he checking me out?

As if he was lagging, he only laughs now at what she's said.

“What about you?” She asks, “no girls, or boys, on the scene?”

He blushes a lot when she asks that. And she can't help the fluttering in her chest she feels that someone might find her attractive.

“Can’t say there is.”

She stands close, passing the cue to him, electricity warming her fingertips as she grazes his.

“And why not?”

He scoffs bitterly, “have you seen me?” he mutters, wandering around the table, suddenly unable to shake the feeling of her gaze, “Not too many girls out there looking for the stereotypical nerdy math boy, really.”

“Hm,” she hums, “how unfortunate for them.”

He sinks a red, picking at his red jumper.

“Yeah, they're clearly missing out, huh?”

The bitter and self-deprecating tone of his voice makes her heart sink a bit. He's not a bad looking guy, she thinks. His style, glasses, hair, she would almost say look actually quite cute.

Maybe that's the thing he doesn't like.

“No interest? Or is maths the only one for you?”

He misses the next shot and sighs, holding the cue for her to take, “clearly, the only one I need.”

She steps close to retrieve, taking her time, looking up at him as she does. At this proximity, Michael sucks in a breath quietly, his lips, which she can't say she'd noticed until right this moment, parting and his Adam's apple bobbing as his eyes flit rapidly down her.

A warmth swirls in her gut at that.

She circles the table, “what about in the past?”

He leans against the other side, his hand on the cushion, long fingers splayed on the green fabric. She has to shake her head to break her own trance.

“Can’t say my love life has exactly been a roaring success, honestly.”

The way he says it.

She wouldn't be surprised if he was…

Oh.

“So what? You're focussed on your studies?”

She misses. Too set on the conversation rather than the game.

He gives a mirthless laugh, “Sure.”

She rounds the table, holding the cue for him to take, but when he reaches for it, she pulls back with a smirk.

“So we've established you're not one for languages,” she starts, and Michael furrows his brows in confusion, “have you ever really asked for what you want? Ever?”

He seems to miss what she's trying to say.

“Have you been with a girl?”

At that, his eyes widen slightly, a blush crawling up his neck to the tips of his ears, cheeks near matching his shirt.

She knows she has her answer.

“Well…I…no, I haven't…”

At chest height, she can see the way his breathing elevates.

“And, hypothetically, if a girl expressed interest. What would you say?”

His lips part for a good few seconds before he gives a reply, “I’d…I um…I guess it depends who…”

It's like he's afraid she'll make fun of him for it.

“What about, if it was me?” She asks, her voice lowering as she reaches out to pick some lint off his jumper, like it's the most normal thing in the world. His body goes all rigid as she does.

This isn't normal in his world.

Michael swallows thickly, “you're not taking the Mick out of me, are you?”

She shakes her head, “I just want you to feel comfortable asking for what you want.”

For someone who had so often thought about it, now when faced with the situation, he feels as if he doesn't know what to do or say.

She's still stood with the cue in one hand, close enough so that when she shifts her weight from foot to foot, her knee grazes his leg. It's interesting to watch him think so deeply about it. Convinced he's probably never thought of anything so much in his life.

“What if what I want is…you?”

The tension deepens like the tone and volume of his voice. And without effort, a smile finds its way to her face when she looks at his expression. He's frozen stiff, for once, not knowing what to say.

So nothing shocks her more when he grabs the pool cue as a means of pulling her to him, and he has to duck considerably to press his lips clumsily to hers. He's eager, that much is true, but it's clear he's inexperienced. But instead of causing discomfort, she thinks it's quite endearing.

The pool cue clangs to the floor as she braces her hands on his shoulders and chest, guiding his lips with her own in a slower, more careful movement. She feels the edge of the pool table bite into her lower back when he presses her against it, clearly excited, if the hardness that's flush to her stomach is anything to go by.

The hands she had been staring at not half an hour ago are bruising as they trace her waist and hips, with a grip tight enough to tell her exactly how much he's enjoying the experience.

For a moment, they're not in a common room alone, against a pool table, with ‘Cheetah-licious Christmas’ playing in the room over, the bass of which rumbles through the floor and into their chests.

The kiss lasts a long while, and she has a feeling he wants to savour it as if it's the last time he will ever be able to do it.

One of her hands snakes its way to the back of his head, fingers gripping at his hair to pull him closer as either of them tilt to aid more contact between them. And at the little amount of tugging, Michael whines into her mouth, prompting him to pull away.

He looks halfway between mortified and pleased, his glasses having skewed to one side with the eagerness of what they'd done. And she laughs a bit, reaching up to fix them, which seems to make the mortification fade somewhat from his face.

Michael looks down between them, where his obvious erection is pressed to her, and pulls away slightly with a scarlet blush.

“Shit - sorry-”

“It's fine,” she reassures, “no need to be embarrassed.”

The words alone would be enough, if her hand hadn't snaked between their bodies to brush her palm over him. And if it were possible, his flush spreads to his neck, words failing him once more.

Her eyes flicker up to his, their lips all kiss-bruised and swollen.

“If you don't want to-”

“No, no, I want to…” he says, immediately embarrassed about how quick it was.

She smiles, one hand palming him through his jeans and the other trailing up his chest, “Sit down.”

He backs up to sit on a nearby sofa, watching with a kind of adoration as she makes space between his legs, her eyes glimmering at him as she slowly undoes his belt.

“If at any time, you need to stop, tell me.”

He gives a nervous laugh, his stomach muscles tightening, wondering probably if this is really happening to him, “Not sure I will want to…”

She smiles reassuringly, watching as his lips part as she palms him through his boxers, trying to suppress how impressed she is with his size.

It's always the skinny white guys.

“Well, the offer's there.” She smirks, pulling him from his boxers, Michael gives a suffered breath, feeling her touch on him and also her breath so close. He almost feels dizzy. The thought of this happening in this situation, with a party going on next door, is dangerous and exciting in equal measure.

She knows he has very limited experience, so decides not to tease him too much.

Michael gasps softly as she licks at the base of him, drawing a wet line with her tongue along the vein underneath, all the way to the tip. She concentrates her efforts slightly on the sensitive spot there before closing her mouth over the head of his cock, sucking gently.

She feels the way his thighs tense, and the blue disappearing as he closes his eyes. His fists are tight beside him, knuckles white, like he doesn't know if he should touch her or not. All he knows right now is that this feeling is brand new, and the sensation is so much already.

She pulls herself from him to run her tongue over his length, one hand moving to his hand, to encourage him. His blue eyes crack open just a bit, to understand what she's trying to tell him.

And she fights the urge to smile as his longer fingers swipe across her temple into her hair, his touch tender, soft and unsure as he holds her by it.

Her lips wrap around him once more, pushing him further into her mouth, taking him steadily and slowly at first. Michael's hips move barely, chasing the friction that he's getting on his cock when she bobs her head on him and hollows her cheeks.

He watches with parted lips and warm cheeks, moving her hair away so he can watch himself disappear into her mouth over and over. Her hand massages the rest of him, giving him two unique sensations in one, something that earns her a deep, throaty moan.

When her eyes open to look at him, he thinks his heart stops in his chest for a split second. He closes his eyes, not able to bear the way she looks with his cock in her mouth if she looks right at him, feeling that if he did any longer he wouldn't last.

The sounds he emits don't stop there as she increases her pace on him, pressing her tongue to the underside of him and taking him deeper into her throat, humming around him at the heady scent of his skin.

It's only when she takes him as far as he will go, working hard to control her gag reflex that he gives the first genuine buck of his hips, tightening in her hair and a far-too-loud moan. If anyone in the next room were quiet and paying attention, they'd likely know exactly what was going on.

“Fuck-”

It only serves to spur her on as she pulls back, moving in a more steady, quick rhythm, that she is sure Michael is loving judging by the rate of his moans and the way he chokes out his words.

His stomach clenches and unclenches, his high creeping up on him as her mouth tightens around his length.

“Shit - you need to - I'm gonna -” he chokes, weakly tugging her hair in an effort to pull her mouth off him before he cums.

If she didn't have his cock in her mouth she'd smile.

Her hand squeezes the base of him, and Michael throws his head back slightly, a long shuddered and choked moan reverberating through his chest. She swears she feels his thighs shake as she stills, warm ropes of his cum taste musky at the back of her throat.

His loud moan is followed quickly by more softer ones as her throat contracts to swallow as much as she can, briefly increasing the tension and friction around his sensitive length.

When she pulls off him with a pleased sigh, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Michael sits up slightly, having to gather his breath.

“Fucking hell…”

She takes it as a compliment and rises to her feet, her hands smoothing her skirt back down.

And she squeaks in delight as Michael quickly tucks himself away, barely doing up his jeans buttons before backing her up to the pool table again, kissing her fervently.

“What about you…do I…” he starts when he breaks away, panting softly. She smiles at the notion but shakes her head. This experience was for him alone.

“Not right now, don't feel inclined to,” she reassured, her hands on his chest, feeling the way his heart is beating rapidly beneath it.

“Right now?” he asks with a quiet, unsure tone, “does that mean…there's gonna be a next time?”

His tone is careful, and yet, she is able to detect something like desire there. An excitement for more, without seeming too eager so that he's not let down if she says no. Something that makes it clear he is 100% on board.

She bites back a grin.

“Quid Pro Quo, Michael.”

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demonpiratehuntress · 11 months ago

Text

mistletoe

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Ace x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Law x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader, Kaku x F!Reader

summary - jumping on the mistletoe bandwagon, their reactions to finding themselves under the mistletoe with you

warnings - none

a/n: Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates it! I don't but I wanted to wish everyone else :)

ZORO

You would be lying if you said you didn't plan all week mostly trying to get Zoro under mistletoe with you. Coming up with excuses to get him in a doorway seemed near impossible, but after a very long few days of thinking, you had your plan set.

"Zorooooooo~"

The swordsman groaned, knowing exactly what that sing-song call meant for him. It could only spell mischief, and he popped open an eye to peer at you curiously.

"What do you want, woman?" He grumbled.

You pouted, "Come onnnnn, lighten up! It's Christmas!" You tugged on his arm. "Pleaseeee?"

He sighed loudly, "Fine."

He let you pull him up and drag him along, silently cursing his willingness to go along with whatever silly endeavor you chose for each day. He couldn't help it, as much as he wanted to just sleep, he loved you enough to participate in your silly antics.

When you suddenly stopped and pointed upwards, Zoro was confused. Then he looked up, and his eyes found some mistletoe hanging from the top of the doorframe.

"Seriously?" He looked back at you, frowning.

You rolled your eyes, "Fine, I'll go get Sanji."

That was enough to make him growl and grab your waist, tugging you forward so you were against his chest. You giggled innocently and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"You're so annoying," he complained, but kissed you anyway.

He kissed you slowly and deeply, pouring as much love as he could into it. Usually these kisses were brief, but he drew it out and kissed you for longer than you expected, effectively knocking the wind out of you when you pulled away.

"Now can I nap in peace?"

ACE

This man right here is perhaps the only one in this list that does not need to be dragged under it. He is the one carrying it around, putting it over two people's heads randomly and then running off giggling when they yell and chase him. But he will also put it over your head and his, although it took him a few tries.

"(Nameeeee)! Look what I got!"

Your energetic boyfriend bounded into the room you were busy in, holding something behind his back. He pouted when you didn't even look up, before repeatedly tapping your arm to get your attention.

"(Name), (Name), (Name)..."

He's like a little kid. So eventually you give in and look at him, only to see him raise something and hold it above yours and his heads. You blush madly upon seeing what it was, feeling butterflies form in the pit of your stomach. The fiery commander smiled innocently, and you couldn't help but giggle as you pulled away from your work to indulge him, wrapping your arms around his bare waist.

"Well, look what we have here," you smirked.

"I know, what a coincidence," he shot you a goofy grin, leaning in.

"I'm not complaining."

You crashed your lips against his, kissing him fiercely and hotly. He reciprocated immediately, making sure to keep the mistletoe hanging above as he cupped your cheek in his free hand, smiling against your lips. He loved kisses like these, energetic and passionate but also loving and adoring.

"That was by far the best response I've gotten to hanging this over people's heads."

"Oh my god, Ace!" you giggled, realising why everyone had been out for Ace's blood today. You shook your head at his antics, pecking his lips one more time before going back to work.

LAW

The complete opposite of Ace, Law is the hardest to get under the mistletoe. He is always cooped up in his room, working, and barely leaves. So you have to do some really deep thinking and planning to get this stubborn man to kiss you under the mistletoe.

Of course, he has to leave his room for meals, so you decide to strike at breakfast on Christmas.

You failed to account for the fact that Law was the most observant person to ever exist, and that he would easily spot the mistletoe you not-so-secretly hid above his doorway. He did find it, and called you first - knowing full well this was one of your shenanigans.

"(Name)-ya, what's that?"

You swallowed nervously and looked up, letting out a nervous chuckle, "I have no idea how that got there."

"Uh huh," he hummed, stepping closer to you. "Look me in the eye and say that again."

You couldn't. And now you were getting too nervous to even just grab him and kiss him, but little did you know that was part of his plan. He was flipping the switch, turning the tables on you and making it seem as if it was his idea.

"Well, you know the rule," he said casually, leaning closer to you. "I'm waiting."

Your face turned a dark shade of red at that, and you fidgeted with your shirt anxiously before leaning in to meet him halfway, letting your lips touch his gently. He was the one who deepened it, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around your waist.

Law, when he wanted to be, could be just as mischievous, if not more.

SANJI

I take it back, Sanji is the easiest to get under the mistletoe. In fact, he is the one planting the mistletoe everywhere in hopes of getting to snag a kiss from you at one point. Little did he expect, his plan would backfire quite miserably. Because instead of walking into the kitchen with you, you got stuck in the doorway with Usopp under the mistletoe, because Usopp had tried to get out the same time you tried to go in.

"YOU LONG-NOSED SNAKE-"

Sanji was fuming, throwing a tantrum as you just giggled and pecked the sniper's cheek, earning an embarrassed blush from him as he scuttled off.

"Babe-"

"Next one is mine, I swear!"

That did not happen. You just happened to be walking out of the aquarium when Zoro walked in, and Sanji almost fainted when the two of you landed under the mistletoe.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

"Rules are rules, twirly brows," Zoro smirked, enjoying this solely because it irritated the hell out of Sanji. As the blonde fumed and threw another tantrum, you gave Zoro a quick peck on the cheek as well before moving on.

Only after you had given Luffy, Brook, Franky and Chopper cheek kisses as well did Sanji FINALLY get you under the mistletoe, but by then he was in tears. Crying over how badly he'd planned this.

"Come here you," you laughed and pulled him close by the collars of his shirt, smashing your lips against his. You kissed him fervently, showing him that you'd been waiting for this kiss the most. He eventually relaxed and kissed you back just as passionately, locking his arms around your waist.

"About damn time."

KAKU

Oh, boy. The ratio of boys to girls in the CP9 team is horrible. There are two women, compared to six men. That's excluding Spandam, because you never included him in these things. But still, it was quite difficult for Kaku to surprise you with mistletoe because of the rare chance of getting you to walk where he placed it without you figuring it out.

Oh well.

So, begrudgingly, Khalifa agreed to help him out. Knowing it wouldn't be suspicious if she led you through a specific doorway, you followed her easily without questioning it.

That is, until she stopped outside the doorway and you entered at the same time as Kaku was trying to leave. The CP9 swordsman blushed, thankful that this worked, and shyly gestured up towards the mistletoe. Your eyes widened, before your own blush formed on your cheeks.

He is so so shy, you are the one who actually makes the move. He may have planted the mistletoe, but he is too nervous and flustered to actually lean in and kiss you, so you have to grab him by the zipper of his jacket and tug him down to meet you at eye-level.

"It's cute that you planned it out," you smiled innocently, knowing about it since Khalifa was not great at hiding what her task was.

"How did you-" He looked at Khalifa, who just shrugged and turned away. He blushed harder, "I didn't want to get anyone else under here by accident."

His admission made you giggle, "Fair enough."

Then you leaned in and kissed him slowly and deeply, angling your face away from his long nose after multiple experiences of your kisses being ruined by your eye being poked. His arms slipped around your waist and he lifted you up slightly, since he was much taller, and kissed you even deeper than you had kissed him.

"Get a room!" Jabra yelled, which you both ignored.

LUFFY

At least everyone else on this list actually knows what mistletoe is. Poor Luffy was so confused by the concept when Nami brought it up a few days before, and even explaining it to him didn't help. Unfortunately, on the day of Christmas, before anyone could actually show him what it was, Luffy had already eaten like three of the four plants that were strung up randomly around the ship.

"Luffy!" Nami scolded, "They're not food!"

Sanji had set them up, not knowing your dear captain would be oblivious enough to consume them, though he should have known better. Fortunately, since the cook was desperately trying to get either Robin or Nami to kiss him, he had spares.

"It's mistletoe, Luffy," you giggled as you took his hand and guided him to where Sanji had hung a surprise one for you and Luffy.

"What does it do?" He blinked, so very cutely confused.

"Well," you began, stopping under the doorway with the mistletoe, "You have to kiss the person you end up under the mistletoe with." As you said it, you blushed hard.

"But why?" Luffy asked. "Can't I just kiss you anyway?"

You laughed at that, blushing more, "You can, but it's more like...a cute tradition."

"Oh," he nodded, looking like he understood. He did not.

"Luffy," you sighed, pointing up at the plant.

He looked up, got excited and reached for it...only to have you slap his hand away.

"Don't eat it!"

Before he could respond, you tugged him against you by his waistcoat and kissed him deeply, successfully distracting him from his mission to apparently consume all the mistletoe you owned. He wrapped his arms around you excitedly and kissed you messily, but you didn't mind because he was just very eager.

"I get it now!"

USOPP

Like Kaku, Usopp is an extremely shy, flustered boy. He is so nervous all the time and when Robin off-handedly mentions mistletoe a day before Christmas, Usopp almost faints. He has kissed you before, but the idea of setting it up and leading you to it had his knees knocking together, his legs becoming two wavy lines.

"Usopp!" You called excitedly, rushing to find your boyfriend. While he was so nervous about the mistletoe, you had no such qualms and even blatantly waved it around over your head. "Look what I found!"

When you reached him, you smiled innocently as you held the little plant over your heads, grabbing his hand to pull him close.

"And what exactly do you have there?" He asked, feigning confusion.

You raised an eyebrow, then smirked, "Are you getting shy on me again? How cute." You kissed his cheek, making him protest.

"Is that my kiss?! That is so unfair, how can you just-"

You cut him off by actually kissing him, effectively shutting him up and drowning out his complaints. You kissed him deeply, much more passionately than your usual kisses and giggled when his legs almost gave out from under him.

"I-I was gonna do that..."

"Uh huh."

1K notes · View notes

thepersonnamedsam · 11 months ago

Note

helloo, just wondering if I could request an imagine for gen z driver and everything that happened last weekend in Qatar! How the heat affected her, and maybe something dramatic and how the other drivers, fans and teams maybe worried about her, thank u sm<3

a random day in my life in f1

pairing: the genz!driver x 23!grid

summary: a vlog about our beloved genz!drivers day in the paddock

word count: 2k

warnings: none

note: merry christmas and a happy new year!

thanks for staying with me this year and into the new one :)

it’s not exactly like you asked and i’m sorry for that… but this has been sitting in my drafts for sooo long, and i just had to like give it some meaning…

masterlist / taglist

The vlogging camera was always secured somewhere in her bags, but she almost never used it. Being overwhelmed fast by all of the other cameras, she didn’t want to create herself more anxiety. But today was different.

„Hi guys!“ Her face appeared on the screen. Much too close, you could almost see her pimples she got from her sweaty balaclava.

The camera swayed and the paddock was shown. „We‘re here in Qatar, it’s beautiful. It is-“, the video switched to her watch „-2pm on a Thursday, that means Free Practice!“

Light music played in the background of the video, but you could still hear the busy paddock. People talking and walking in the background. Sometimes there would even be shouting, but y/n didn’t care, she just smiled into the camera.

„I’ll take you with me through my day! Are you excited? I bet you are“, she smiled. „Uhm, Qatar is a night race, as many of you probably know… but FP1 is still in daylight, which I’m glad, because I can actually see the track and not just feel it-“, she gestures the curves of the track with her hand „-you know? Yea…“, she mumbles the last part.

The video switches to a different setting. y/n now standing inside of her garage: „I have to be careful what I show here, it’s like Hippa in hospitals“, she laughs, „with privacy and all, we don’t want the other teams to know what strategies we’ve been working on.“

„But that’s my car“, she points to the newly polished F1 car, „she got a new look just for this race, can you believe it?“ The camera sways around the car to show off the new design.

„It’s really hot here, make sure to drink enough guys!“ An animation of a glass being filled with water appeared on the screen. „If it works, you should see some water right now“, the young driver grins.

The view changes again, this time to her watch: „We have 3.30pm, it’s time for me to warm up, but I’m actually already very hot, so maybe my trainer will let me off?“ She looks expectantly at her trainer, who only shakes his head no. „Aww man, worth a shot though.“

She placed the camera on the ground to film her warmup. The timelapse shows how she starts to lightly jog on the place. Her trainer starts to throw tennis balls at her. You couldn’t hear it in the video, but he shouts with which hand she has to catch the ball.

The music was catchy and in best with her rope jumping. y/n face was red and she was sweating extremely. She was puffing and breathing heavily. In this humid weather, even inside the cooling garage, it was hard to train. How would she survive in an already 40° hot car, for over 50 laps?

The music stops, so does the timelapse. You can see y/n breathing loud as she laid on the floor. Her head turned towards the camera and she smiles lightly. „Phew, never doing that again“, she laughs.

The video changes again, as y/n walks down the paddock to visit some of her friends: „I’m on my way to the McLaren hospitality. Lando and I have that tradition for Free Practice. We always get a smoothie before, so we don’t have to drink some weird protein shake.“

The view sways around and you can see the bright orange from McLaren. You could hear Lando before he was even in the video. His laugh loud and prominent. „Hi y/n‘s fans!“, he waves into the camera.

„This is Lando Norris, if you didn’t know. He drives for McLaren!“, she explains to her viewers. „I hope they know who I am…“, Lando pouts. She shushes him and giggles.

„What smoothie are you gonna get?“, she asks Lando. „McLaren hospitality has the best smoothies, I swear. Mine doesn’t even have smoothies, can you believe that?“

„Uhm, I think I’ll get the green one, I don’t want to hear anything from Jon, so that’s the only safe option“, he sighs. y/n grimaces, as the green smoothie tastes the worst.

„I think I want the red one, the one with the dragonfruit in it, so I can fly through this Free Practice like a dragon“, she laughs.

Lando rolls his eyes but still has to laugh at her shitty joke. „That was such a bad joke.“ - „But you love me anyway“, y/n grins.

You see y/n full on sweaty and with a red head. „Free Practice is done, it was hot, like really hot, Imma hop into my ice bath for a second and yea. I’ll probably go to the Hotel after to cool down, so I’m fully prepared for Qualifying.“

A shot of the pink rubber duck floating in the ice bath was shown. The duck was flipped and it showed the temperature of the water. 8°C. Perfect for a hot day like this.

„Ohh, I’m almost vaporising“, y/n laughs as she submerges in the water. „My skin is so hot and the water so cold, it’s like I’m the hot metal they put into water, I love this videos, I binge watch them before I go to sleep“, she confesses.

„Anyway, have you seen my pink ducky? I got it from Carlos! I was jealous of his, so he bought me my own temperature duck, isn’t that sweet?“

The next shot was y/n in her hotel room. She was laying in her bed, scrolling through her phone and occasionally laughing. The view was amazing, the sun was setting and you could see so much of Qatar.

„Good morning! It’s Friday then, it’s Saturday, Sunday, what?“

„Welcome“, she laughs, „I’m eating breakfast together with Max, say hi Max!“, Max waves into the camera. „I’m eating Avocado Toast with some Salmon - good fats for my body and Max is eating, actually, what are you eating Max?“

The view changes to Max‘ plate. There was a mix of different things, like some roaster potatoes and beans and some weird, almost wool like thing on his plate. „It’s potatoes, beans and some sauerkraut“, he explains. „What? Sauerkraut?“ - „Yea, I don’t know, apparently it’s good for your body.“

y/n makes a face of disgust and the screen goes black for a second.

„Okay, Q1 and Q2 are finished, got stuck in Q2, but I’m glad I don’t have to start in Q3 honestly, I can focus on the Sprint Shootout later. It’s hot in the car, hotter than usual.“

The scene changes, again to y/n laying exhausted on the floor. From the side you can see Oscar creeping up with a big glass of water. The moment the water hits y/n‘s skin, she’s up and about chasing the rookie.

„Oscar!“ And she sprints out of the view. The screen goes black and then you can see Oscar’s wet hair and two smiley young drivers. „She dumped me“, he huffs. „Into the water“, she says for clarification.

„It’s race day!“, she screams into the camera. „Well sprint day“, she says less excited. „I hate driving in these conditions. It’s way too hot, I’d rather drive on ice than this.“

The scenery changes again, cars driving around the parking lot. „I came here with Charles and Carlos, we’re staying at the same hotel and to save our carbon footprint, with all the excessive driving we do anyway, we thought we carpooled.“

You can see Charles driving and Carlos sitting in the passenger seat. „They wouldn’t let me drive, even though I’m an F1 driver“, she sighs. You can hear Carlos laugh and say: „Have you seen your driving style on the street? No way I would sit in that car.“

The young woman shakes her head and tuts. „You wouldn’t understand“, she whispered into the camera. Charles laughs.

„You know, for you being Australian, you’re still very sweaty.“ - „What? I’m not sweaty, that’s my natural glow“, Daniel laughs. „Natural for sure“, she mumbles.

„What even are you doing? You’ve been walking around with that thing for the past three days“, Danny asks. „I’m vlogging!“ - „You’re what?“, he asks confused. „You’re old, that’s what you are. It’s like blogging but with a video, so it’s vlogging“, she explains with a sigh. The older out of the two just makes an ‚oh‘ sound and laughs.

„I wanted to make a ‚a random day in my life in f1‘ video but it turned out to be a ‚a random four days in my life in f1‘ video.“

Fernando looks confused at y/n. „What?“, he blinks at her. „You know, it should’ve been a video about one day, now it’s about the whole race week“, she explains. „Ahh, okay“, Fernando answers, still unsure what the younger driver tries to explain him. „You wanna say hi?“, she asks him.

„Hi“, he replies. Fernando was not yet in view, but you could hear him. „Into the camera, Nando. You know how this works, you’ve done press and TikTok!“

„Hi“, he says again, this time Fernandos forehead was in excellent view. You could hear y/n‘s giggles as he took the camera out of her hand. „This is for my wife, Taylor, who’s cheating with another athlete!“

The camera was set down and Fernando stood up. „What are you doing?“, y/n‘s giggles continued. „Play Cardigan by Taylor Swift please“, he whisper shouts. As soon as the music begins, Fernando dances and sings to it.

„This is me before the sprint“, y/n looks into the camera and holds up a piece sign, „And this is me after the sprint.“ Face red and puffy. „Athletes sweat, I‘m a real athlete“, she quotes Daniel.

The camera sways to Oscar, who won his first race/sprint. „How do you feel, Mr. Piastri?“ - „I’m hot and sweaty, I wanna drown myself in an iceberg or something.“

„Yea same“, she huffs. „Listen, this race is exhausting. We drive in an unnormal heat, alone in the car it’s 40°C when the outside temperature is like 20°C. But the outside temperature here is already like 40°C, imagine what it’s like inside our cars.

This is for the FIA: I lost like 7kg this sprint race alone, just from sweating. What about you, Os?“ - „I don’t know if I want to say anything to the FIA“, he says lowly. „Ahh, they won’t see that anyway“, she reassures him. „I lost like eight pounds, maybe?“ - „How much is that in kilograms?“, she asks him slowly. He laughs and says: „Maybe 3.5kg.“

„Mr. Verstappen how many kilograms did you lose today?“, she shouts over the paddock. Max halts and turns around to face the camera that was shoved in his face.

„The scale says five, why? How much did you lose?“ - „Seven! Can you believe that?“

„This race really is torture, and we only raced, what, 16 laps? I don’t know.“ - „Can’t wait for tomorrow“, Lando sighs.

The screen goes black for a second again, before the same music started from her warm up at Free Practice. The timelapse begins again and you can see y/n sweating.

Occasionally she sits down to have a sip of water, but her trainer gets her up again. Her face appears wide in front of the camera and she starts to sing the lyrics as the music fades.

„Race day, baby, hoping for a good result today! I feel it in my sweat that I’ve been losing over the past few days“, she jokes.

She gets filmed as she gets into her car, it’s being rolled out of the garage and she makes the shaka with both her hands.

We get a few scenes as she drives past the start line and as she crosses the finish line, the radio messages was overlaid on the video.

„That is P4, baby!“, her race engineer shouted. „Yes! C‘mon! I almost fainted the last three laps, but totally worth it!“

You can see the podium being filmed from the ground. Max won, of course but; „Oscar and Lando! Woohoo! P2 and P3 for my Papaya Boys“, she screams as the McLaren drivers received their trophy.

The video ends with y/n sneaking into the room where they celebrated their podium in private. They were all exhausted.

„You reek of sweat and champagne“, y/n says from behind the camera. All three laugh and Max throws his towel at her camera. The screen goes black.

Comments 3.2K

user i- what was this?

user2 love, love, LOVE the smoothie tradition

user3 qatar should be banned from the schedule

user4 what do you mean, you almost fainted on the last 3 laps? what is going on?

user5 i heard lance almost fainted too

user6 this is cruel, but also love the content

user7 I WANT TO CRADLE HER AND TELL HER EVERYTHING IS OKAY AND THAT SHE CAN TAKE AN ICY SHOWER

user8 kimi would’ve walked straight to his yacht

user9 nando’s so right playing cardigan

user10 I KNEW YOU, PLAYING HIDE AND SEEK AND GIVING ME YOUR WEEKENDS!

youtube this was… eventful?

user11 ariana, what are you doing here?

user12 that’s so old

user13 shut up, they’re probably from all the tiktok edits here on yt

user11 what’s tiktok?

user14 love the new content

f1 wowza, y/n is just stealing our job! next stop: y/n hosts grill the grid

°°°

@ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @biglittlesecret , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @youkissedareaderinthedark , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @avengersheart , @thatsadsmallchild , @peachiicherries , @idkiwantchocolatee , @callsign-scully , @mehrmonga , @badbatch-simp24 , @lissyontour , @din0nugs , @elliegrey2803 , @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis , @10vely-yutazen , @daggersquadphantom , @azriel-the-shadowsinger , @i-love-scott-mccall , @darleneslane , @mikauraur , @heartmetaphor , @darleneslane , @ellswilliams , @thxtmarvelchick , @nataliambc , @dontjudgeabookbythecover , @hockeyboysarehot , @thehistoryone , @zimm04 , @woozarts

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #daniel ricciardo #charles leclerc #fernando alonso #genz driver #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #max verstappen x f!reader #max verstappen x reader #female driver #female f1 driver

1K notes · View notes

princepiastri · 11 months ago

Text

can you keep a secret (2) - LN4

lando norris x russell!reader

george is trying to get used to seeing his friend and sister together.. it's not going very well

(1)

liked by landonorris, lilymhe, alex_albon and 625,492 others

ynusername making it my life mission to annoy as many drivers as possible

username alex is NOT impressed

landonorris delete this

-> ynusername oh shh you look great 👍

username iconic

georgerussell63 can you make it your life mission to annoy everyone but me as you've been doing it my whole life

-> ynusername but you're the most fun to annoy 🙁

-> georgerussell63 charming

---

liked by ynusername, max_fewtrell, oscarpiastri and 4,174,846 others

landonorris acting like she owns the place

username she really is out here living her best life

pierregasly she may as well at this point, everyone loves her

-> georgerussell63 who is everyone pierre? 🤨

username i wish i was her

georgerussell63 can you bring her back to the mercedes garage please and thank you

-> landonorris no

-> ynusername landonorris excuse you i can speak for myself.. georgerussell63 no

---

liked by landonorris, georgerussell63, pierregasly and 694,582 others

ynusername winter break things ❄️

username lando getting taken out by a snowball is incredible

max_fewtrell please send more embarrassing photos of lando

-> ynusername yessir 🫡

-> landonorris 😦

username oh to be skiing on a mountain with my boyfriend on winter break

---

liked by ynusername, alex_albon, oscarpiastri and 4,327,593 others

landonorris snow ☃️

username so this whole post is just lando embarrassing people

ynusername YOU PUSHED ME

-> landonorris i would never

-> georgerussell63 that's enough for me - relationship over

-> ynusername behave

username the violation on max 😭

-> max_fewtrell i've never known peace

---

liked by max_fewtrell, landonorris, carmenmmundt and 746,326 others

ynusername home for christmas 🎄

username merry christmas!

georgerussell63 he is not welcome here

-> ynusername mum disagrees

-> landonorris i also disagree

-> georgerussell63 hush you

username oh this is so cuteeee

carmanmmundt you guys are so cute!! ❤️

-> ynusername i miss you! 🧡

-> georgerussell63 traitor

---

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris, carmenmmundt and 813,256 others

ynusername yes lando and george had to spend christmas together, no it was not okay

username omg i want to know everything

landonorris no arguments was a win for me

-> georgerussell63 you were very much on the limit

username i'm starting to think them hating each other isn't a joke anymore

alex_albon no invite? 🥲

-> ynusername next year albono!!

-> georgerussell63 absolutely not

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x #lando norris blurb #lando norris imagine #lando norris fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smau #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 blurb #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #f1

1K notes · View notes

gothhabiba · 11 months ago

Note

why is happy holidays a silly phrase?

Like “BCE” and “CE” for “BC” and “AD,” it seems not Christian on its surface (because it doesn’t explicitly mention “Christ”), but it is still implicitly very Christian in how it considers time (i.e. setting Jesus’ birth as year 0, or assuming that early winter is ‘the time for big holidays’)

That is, it’s based on the idea that Christmas, Chanukah, and Kwanzaa are equivalents, or at least holidays of equivalent weight (like, Chanukah is the “Jewish Christmas”). This isn’t true—Chanukah is not the most important or second most important holiday of the year. And very few people celebrate Kwanzaa like that. And there is no Muslim holiday that is tied to the wintertime (though Ramadan being in the winter for a while did confuse a lot of non-Muslims on this point, who said “happy Ramadan” during the winter for years afterward….)

So the phrase owes its currency to this very liberal-multicultural-pluralism-diversity-and-inclusion idea of the “big three” holidays that we were taught in elementary school in the U.S. All broader criticisms of liberal pluralism apply here

The phrase allows Christians to pretend that the timing of breaks from school and work (for certain people) is not entirely dependent on Christmas. But it clearly is. And if Diwali has definitely occurred by November and Chanukah is over by December 15, what do you mean by saying “happy holidays” on December 20th…?

I think the usage of the phrase can actually be a ‘microaggression’ as the kids say. Like why say “happy holidays” to me while I hand you a Christmas present and make plans with you for Christmas Eve dinner and tell you “merry Christmas.” What are you trying to say. Lmao.

Also!!! If people are saying “happy holidays” to me specifically based on how they’re racialising me (as opposed to people who just default to it with everyone), then um. Which holiday do they mean? No Muslim holidays tied to December!!

Imo, if you don’t know anything about the person you’re talking to, just say “have a good day” or something. You don’t actually have to assume that everyone else’s experience is the same as your’s while putting on a thin veneer of pretending that that’s not what you’re doing.

#Anonymous #questions

768 notes · View notes

tojifile · 11 months ago

Text

@Muzan Kibutsuji . . . (＾＾＃)

Tags: husband!muzan, emotionally dependent reader, f!reader, violence, suggestive, manipulation, muzan is taller than you, mansplaining if you squint, huge daddy issues, toxic relationship

A/N: Thinking about husband!muzan and his wife who’s emotionally dependent on him. She’s a huge crybaby but Muzan loves how dependent she is on him. He loves the dominance he has over her. THIS IS FOR WOMEN WITH DADDY ISSUES WHO WANT TO BE TAKEN CARE OF IN THE MOST TOXIC WAY IMAGINABLE. The relationship and everything is super toxic but I love those and honestly, red flags get me going! (I am a bad example of what you should do with your life, do not copy) Merry Christmas Eve to my ho ho hos! 🎄

p.s. an anon just requested for a Muzan’s wife runs away after finding out so that may be after this, just know that I love toxic relationships with guys like Muzan :)

husband!muzan who only goes out at night. He tells you he has a skin condition that started when he was a kid. There was no known cure, so his “company” constantly tries to find information on possible cures for people with the same disease.

husband!muzan who seemed like the perfect partner, dotting on you, always buying you gifts. He’d buy you things that reminds him of you which made you all the more attached. You loved his attention and how he constantly babies you.

husband!muzan who you caught consuming a woman during a stroll. It was already past 7PM but you decided to go out for a walk. Everything was good, the streets were bustling with different kinds of people, all smiling and happy—that was until you got to a rather secluded area.

You heard loud cries coming from a narrow alley. The screams lured you in. At the back of the alley was where you saw your husband—Muzan Kibutsuji, devouring a helpless young woman. He immediately sensed your presence and turned around.

He swiftly got in front of you and covered your mouth with his palm. “Hello, my love, I trust you enjoyed your evening stroll?” He spoke, his voice dripping with an eerie yet sweet, confusing feeling. You only looked at him with teary eyes in response.

husband!muzan who tries to reason with you but he didn’t even need to say anything. You still wanted him.

Such a shame that you had to find out about his secret, “Kibutsuji-kun..” was all you could mutter after he removed his palm from your mouth. You then started to cry in his arms as he caressed your hair, calming you down. God, he was so sweet towards you.

A few lines of blood dripped down the corners of his mouth. He looked down at you with a soft smile on his face. His suit and pants were stained with the blood of his victim but that didn’t bother him.

Most—no, all of his past wives would’ve been crying and yelling about how much of a liar and monster he is and/or running away. But here you were in his arms, you cried because you didn’t know how to react. You were scared that he’d leave you because you found out his secret.

husband!muzan who is happy to know that you’ve truly submitted yourself to him. He loves the feeling of being in control. It was adorable, the way you melted into his arms, even after you saw him consuming another human being.

husband!muzan who promises to never hurt nor leave you. He just loved controlling you a bit too much. It got him excited, knowing that he comes home to such a cute little human wife who he doesn’t have to hide his true form from.

husband!muzan who then escorts you home while holding you by the waist. Telling you about how you shouldn’t go out at night without him. He doesn’t want other demons to mistake you for a lowly human.

husband!muzan who was just really turned on by the events. As soon as you got home he had you on the bed, kissing you softly. He didn’t even have to use force with you. You were just so happy to submit to the man who gave you affection.

husband!muzan who sometimes lets his fangs sink in your skin. Just for you to tremble and whimper under his touch. He loved it when you would cling onto him and he loves the little noises you’d make whether it be from pain or pleasure.

husband!muzan who tells himself that he’s only staying with you and treating you like this because you’re a valuable asset, one that could keep his facade going.

husband!muzan who slowly submits to your affection genuinely, especially after that night.

husband!muzan who always makes you feel safe and taken care of. He might be the demon king but he can’t let his wife be let down. Muzan Kibutsuji was too much of a loving husband to let that happen.

husband!muzan who treats you like a child that needs to be guided. He can’t have you forming your own thoughts now, right? That would corrupt your innocent little mind. He couldn’t let you turn against him now that he was so attached to you.

husband!muzan who loves to pamper you like a little doll. He loves the idea of using you over and over. Although he doesn’t understand why he’s so attached to you, he just lets it happen. You were still a benefit to him anyway.

And finally.. husband!muzan who has you numb every time he’s had a bad night. Getting you to do nasty things with him, knowing you’re always so needy for his attention.

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