#suddenly im a champagne glass

[021894s]

DOES HE KNOW IM INSANE

[saerotonins]

in a world full of boys, he's a gentleman

ft. nanami kento x fem!reader

— in which kento unintentionally proves how much of a husband material he is.

content warnings: fluff, smut, light angst, suggestive, making out, nanami kento being a certified hubby, fiancée!kento, weddings, mentions/implied slut-shaming, reader has horrible relatives, reader is described to be non-traditional, riding, p in v sex, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, choking, hair pulling, curses still exist but nobody dies (yay!) and geto is mentally fine and a teacher at jujutsu tech <33, im so in love with him, some can be considered bare minimum and subtle but idc if he does it he's the standard, kento loves it when you're checking him out, just kento being a gentleman, kento is so in love with you, you you and you in his mind, reader is just as the same btw, corny ass vow (idk how to write one srry)

wc: 5591 (holy shit lol)

note: im!! so!! head!! over!! heels!!! with!! this!! man!! (it's really not that obvious, right?) he's so dreamy he deserves a lot of kissy kisses and a ticket to malaysia <33 also!! just realized this is my first piece for 2024 tehehe happy new year, everyone! 🎀🎆

best enjoyed with: slut! - taylor swift

that time when you both went out for a picnic

the sunset paints the sky with the most vibrant colors as you and kento bask in each other's presence and sit on a picnic blanket, surrounded by the quiet sways of the green grass, accompanied by some people who decided to hang out around the vicinity.

it's one of those days that kento is blessed by once in a blue moon break from being a jujutsu sorcerer. kendo's always grateful to have this kind of day because it would mean that his hands would spend their time stealing soft touches against your skin instead of fighting curses.

a faint clink can be heard when you and kento toast your glasses together, half filled with your favorite champagne. it's a tad bit sweet to kento's liking as he is not good with sweets, but he opted to bring it to your picnic instead of his favorite whiskey because he knows you love it. 

kento watches you put your lips on the champagne flute and drink your sweet alcohol with glee. he takes a small sip from his as he stares at you with admiration. 

satisfied with your drink, you set it aside on your coaster as you lean your head on kento's shoulders. "such a lovely day, isn't it?" you say while you close your eyes, soaking in the remaining rays of the sunshine before it sleeps, allowing the night to take over the sky.

kento hums in approval as he puts his free hand on your head, giving it gentle and loving pats as he rests his head against yours, but not before giving you a quick peck. "we should do this more often," 

"i agree; you should ditch gojo more and spend more time with me," you joked, and you heard your fiancée chuckle, "that wouldn't be so professional of me, darling," it's your turn to let out a chuckle.

"it's gojo; being professional is already out of the window." 

"you're right, maybe i should," kento jested back.

the two of you just sat in comfortable silence until a slightly strong gust of wind blew in your direction. caught by the shock of it all, you close your eyes and hold your sundress down to avoid flashing the strangers. but before you could even do it, a strong pair of arms wrapped around you.

kento had covered you, so any speck of dust blown by the wind wouldn't be able to get into your eyes. your sundress is also held down by his knees between your legs. when you opened your eyes, you were greeted by your fiancée's face close to yours, assessing you. you suddenly feel your stomach tumble and fill with butterflies.

"are you okay? didn't get anything in your eyes?" he says gently, eyes observing you with worry. you give him a slight nod, "mhm, i'm fine kento, how about you?" kento answered with a hum as he tried to fix your dress and some parts of the picnic blanket that was slightly blown away by the wind.

"i think that's the cue for us to pack up, or do you want to stay for a while?" kento asks you while he starts to pack up some of your stuff into the picnic bag. "we should stay until the sun completely sets, it's a shame to leave while the sky looks pretty." 

kento nods and finishes packing before he sits beside you, looking at the view. he then makes your head lean on his shoulders once again, his hands caressing the top of your head. "yeah, i agree, the sky looks pretty." he states.

he feels you nod and continues, "but you're prettier to look at," he says as he looks down at you and to his surprise, he meets your eyes on him. "i could say the same to you, kento," you say before capturing his lips against yours.

kento smiles on your lips before reciprocating your gesture, slightly tasting the remnants of your sweet champagne earlier. 

and at that moment, he thought, it doesn't matter if his tongue tasted something so sweet, as long as it's from your lips.

that time when you went christmas shopping

the mall filled with bustling crowds is not a perfect way to spend time with your fiancée. but when this is the only time your schedules align to go for a last-minute shopping to buy gifts for your loved ones, you don't really have a choice.

kento especially noticed how much you were on edge today despite being excited to buy gifts for everyone especially his mentees. you weren't the type to enjoy a busy crowd, so he knows how to elevate your stress.

store after store, he gave you every opinion he had (that you asked for) ever so gently and thoroughly but not too much to overwhelm you since you're technically a ticking time bomb now. kento was attentive at every store you went to and immediately picked out gifts you thought were best to give. he stood up in the busy and long line as he let you sit on the lounge chair present in the store. 

by the time you're done shopping, he carries all the bags and refuses to give you any (even the small ones). and when you insist, he gives you an offended look, telling you he can manage. 

while you're walking to leave the mall, your stares don't go unnoticed by your fiancée as he sees you mindlessly gawking at his arms that flex every time he has to fix the bags while walking. 

and that makes carrying your shopping bags even more worth it to him.

that time when you got drunk at a new year's party

gojo has set a new year's party that includes everyone in jujutsu tech in one of his vacation homes in japan. it was supposed to be a reasonably small party but this is gojo satoru we're talking about; he's going to be extra about anything and everything.

the party is semi-formal and requires everyone to dress up nicely. kento does not enjoy parties, but seeing you dress up in a pretty dress that enhances your assets makes him think that attending this event has benefits too.

the party wasn't uneventful per se, but despite the semi-formal wear that everyone was rocking, the event itself was casual. the house was filled with laughter and noise, mainly from the students and everyone else sharing stories and conversing. an hour or two into the party, you and kento decided to part ways as you go on your way to interact with gojo, geto, and shoko.

kento trusted you enough to be alone with them so he opted to talk with some of his colleagues whose presence calms him (obviously not gojo). he spent his time talking with higuruma, sharing ideals and mundane stuff they both enjoyed doing. it was a calming conversation for both men, who wanted peace and tranquility.

"there's this store that sells rare vintage vinyl; i think you'll love to shop there," higuruma suggests as they talk about collecting vinyl, a hobby they share. kento was about to reply, but even before he opened his mouth, he heard a very loud— 

"nanamin!" which made both men turn their heads in the direction where the sound came from.

the voice no doubt belonged to itadori, his face painted with concern as he rushed to kento's area. "what is it itadori?" he asked the young man the moment he arrived while panting.

"your wife! she's—" before itadori can even finish his sentence, kento's already sprinting to where you are, itadori following suit.

kento doesn't need to know what he needs to say; the worry on itadori's face, accompanied by your name, is enough for him to look for you.

turns out you're drunk of your mind. 

when kento arrives in gojo's kitchen, it's just you and him having a very drunk and heated argument about whether cereal or milk comes first.

"no! that's so stupid, cereal should come first, think about it you stupid idiot, if you pour milk first, you'll miss the chance to fill the bowl with so much cereal!" your fiancée sees you standing on gojo's kitchen island alongside him, slurring your words as you sway the glass of wine in the air, threateningly spilling as you keep on moving.

gojo scoffs at your argument, "maybe t'was the point! it's all about ratio, how else can you enjoy cereal when there's too much cereal and little room for milk!" he barks back, holding a—

is that a massive cup of sunrise tequila? no wonder he got so drunk, kento thought as he sighed.

"there's no such thing as ratio for you, gojo! you're the same person who adds too much pineapple on pizza that it becomes disgusting!" you shouted at gojo's face as you continuously pointed at his chest with your index finger.

across the kitchen island stood geto and shoko with unamused faces, looking like they were just waiting for everything to die down on its own. kento sighs and asks them, "did they have an alcohol-drinking battle again?" and all they reply is a solid nod.

"gojo got too competitive and drank that sweet poison, which led to this... argument," shoko adds, looking at both you and gojo incredulously. "they immediately started gulping down the alcoholic drinks right after midnight," geto said, a chuckle threatening to leave his lips.

"please help me break them up," your fiancée kindly pleads to geto and shoko. they immediately showed empathy to their former junior and decided to hold gojo back together while kento held onto you.

it took almost half an hour to break you and gojo apart, not to mention the commotion and your silly drunk discussions that blew out of proportion because the both of you are just so passionate and no one would back down without a fight. after successfully separating the two of you, kento immediately guided you away from the party and to your car, not without leaving shy goodbyes to the people he would face along the way.

the drive back home was thankfully not chaotic, but it was definitely filled with your drunken chatter as you slur words kento can barely make out.

getting you to your shared home was relatively easy; you were patient enough to let kento walk you off to the front door and remove your heels before gently placing you on the couch. 

he was about to let go and grab some water until you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to your face; kento felt his heart race. "hey there," you whispered against his lips, distance threateningly close.

kento could smell the alcohol on your breath, probably a mixture of beer, wine, and then some. still, he couldn't bring himself to care when he knew your lips would probably taste slightly sweet. "have you ever been this handsome, kento?" you ask, your voice dripping honey despite being out of your mind, trapped in your own drunken bubble.

"maybe that's just the alcohol's doing, darling," he jokes.

"no no, i think i already saw this face years ago."

"really?"

"really. you look even more handsome now, you should give me a kiss," you say as you pucker your lips, slowly leaning towards his.

kento couldn't even say no even if he didn't want to (not that he will ever not want to kiss you). he decides to give you a swift peck just to entertain your shenanigans, but when he is about to let go, you deepen your kiss, tightening your wrap on his neck, forcing him to lean forward and straddle you with one of his thighs digging on the couch.

he can taste the red wine you had recently drunk, and he's confident he can get drunk with your lips alone. kento's mind went hazy as he moved against your lips languidly, letting himself drown in your kiss. he wanted this to last longer, even take it further, but alas, kento has always been a man of self-control, so he lets go of you, not before giving you one last kiss on the forehead before heading to the kitchen.

the whole night, kento tends to your every need that you couldn't do. he had prepared you a warm bath, removed your makeup, and did your skincare for you that he knows at the back of his hand. he had lathered you up with your favorite lotion, dried your hair (not without a fight since your drunk self found the hair dryer too loud), and kissed you good night before tucking you to bed, leaving a pack of aspirin and a water bottle on your nightstand before sleeping.

the morning after, you woke up to the smell of your favorite soup and your fiancée insisting on feeding you even though you told him you could manage.

you make sure to pay him back really well that same day.

that time when you attended a family reunion 

it's always this dreaded day you always wanted to avoid but couldn't. 

you would rather stay home with kento rather than attend a gathering that will just piss you off, but your mom had pleaded with you to come— "so that they won't gossip about you," she said.

you know that's a lie; whether or not you attend, they'll always find a way to talk about you anyway; there's no winning. but since you wouldn't want to let your mother down, you suck it up and prepare for it regardless.

what makes you nervous is that this is the first time Kento has come along— or more like you let him come along. 

you had heard complaints from your relatives about not meeting kento when he was still your boyfriend, and now that you're engaged, you should've at least let them meet him. you begrudgingly agreed, but it doesn't mean you're not nervous.

your relatives have been annoying throughout your life, always meddling with things they shouldn't even care about. 

it always started with asking about your weight change, school activities, grades, chosen course, and relationships, not to mention the ever-so "you should do better" undertone in all aspects of your life. and for some reason, always making you feel small is included in their mandatory list to piss you off. 

you know that once you let them meet your now fiancée, they would bombard him with questions and annoy you and him for the rest of the day. you only keep up with the tradition because your mother is too kind to tell them off, laughing awkwardly when they berate you and always giving you a silent apology through her eyes.

it wasn't her fault; you just wish she'd shut them off.

kento had noticed your change of behavior ever since this morning while preparing in your home. you had been silent and spacing out, only replying when he had finally snapped you out of your daze. he doesn't know what the deal was with your relatives, but all he knows is that your mood drastically changes whenever they're involved in the conversation, and that's enough for him to tell you that they're not really good news.

"are you sure you want to go, honey? we can always drive back home," kento said with worry, cutting through the thick tension in the car. "it's fine; I can handle it; we're almost there anyway. it would be a waste if we turn around," you tell him with a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

Kento replied with a small smile, taking your hand to his face and kissing your knuckles, "just know that i'll always be there, alright?"

you nod, feeling slightly relieved, before looking out the window to drink in the scenery as you pass by. 

it turns out you can't handle it.

you thought your relatives would be a little tamer because you have someone over, but you were totally wrong.

ever since you both arrived, your aunties had surrounded kento and bombarded him with questions. from his age, degree, university he graduated from, where you met, wedding date, monthly income (which is incredibly embarrassing), to how many children he plans to have.

most of it wasn't a problem, but your blood boiled the moment they asked about what he saw from you.

this would've been such a sentimental moment if it weren't for your auntie's sarcastic tone, as if the question was meant to belittle you, to make you feel like you're not worthy of him.

when kento was about to open his mouth just to pour out how much he loves you and how he's lucky to have you, one of your aunties butt in with their loud mouth.

"well, she isn't really a traditional partner isn't she?" she said, a smug smile forming on her ugly and wrinkly face. "yeah, i mean, i assume with a fine man like you wouldn't be attracted to someone like her," another one added.

kento clenches his fists as he felt fury fire inside of him. how dare they think about you like this and talk about you like this, like you weren't just in front of him, seething in pain and anger.

he was about to give a proper and calm response when your uncle had spoken, "besides, she dresses like a... you know," then an ugly cackle. "a what?" your auntie had joined, taunting him to say the word.

"oh, you know, like a sl-"

that was the final nail in the coffin. his words are cut off when kento angrily smashes both palms on the table, seemingly angry, forming an angry red aura you have never seen. "i've had enough," he started, while all eyes are on him, including yours.

"i will not allow any single one of you to disrespect my wife any longer. i will not tolerate your old and immature ways of talking about her. i've been patient enough, but this bullshit is something I will not allow," kento's vulgar choice of words has made everyone's eyes at the table grow wide, shocked.

"i would say this respectfully, but you guys weren't to my wife either, so please, i'll say this once," he inhales, trying to calm himself down. 

"fuck off," kento declares before taking your hand and exiting the venue.

during the walk to the car, he had been slowly calming himself down. once you reach it, kento holds your face gently, "i'm sorry for the outburst there; i just couldn't stand them disrespecting you any longer, so I had to." he says before putting a gentle yet quite long kiss on your forehead.

once he lets go, he sees your face. your eyes had been filled with tears, and it broke his heart. "that's fine, i've been wanting to tell them to fuck off for years anyway. if anything, i should thank you," a smile spread through kento's face before opening the car door to let you in.

once the both of you are finally settled in your seat, you ask, "by the way, I just noticed you called me your wife; what was that all about?" you ask him out of curiosity. he knows you're happy about that based on how happy your voice sounded when you asked him.

"i'm just so sure you'll end up with that title anyway, unless you're having cold feet?"

"oh god, no! i'm just touched, 's all," you shrugged as you settled in your seat, a smile stretched across your face. 

kento chuckles and leans forward to kiss your cheek before starting the engine and driving off.

your mom visited you and kento later that week, saying she was happy she was finally not invited to the next reunion. she then made you your favorite dishes as an apology for that day.

you don't mind what gossip they would come up with next, not when you have the kind of man kento is. 

their little toxic gossip train had nothing compared to the love that kento gives you every single day anyway.

that time when you asked him to be rough

the night is still young and cold but kento does know how to make it hot.

his hands fumble the plush ass as you keep on taking his cock, sloppily riding him as you let your hips and thighs do the work. your cunt meticulously takes all of him, molding your walls just like it was made for him. "hah, faster darling, please," kento pleads, voice broken and desperate for release.

his calloused hands caress your body gently like you are someone sacred, a figure that shouldn't be harshly touched or you'll be condemned, the same hands that used to exorcise and kill curses without a single thought. and yet with you, he carefully carries them lightly, holding onto your waist, not too tight enough to leave you in pain. 

you feel your stomach tie into a knot, slowly feeling yourself come to a climax, "shit, kento, you're so big, mngh, make me feel so full," you say through gritted teeth, further speeding up your pace. the sound of your thighs slamming against his echoes through your bedroom, accompanied by your ragged breaths and kento's broken moans of pleasure.

your fiancée's hands then find their place back on your ass, squeezing it tight, but not too much, guiding you to bounce on his cock more as he feels himself closer. "s'good for me, yeah? taking me like a good girl?" kento looks at your eyes lovingly, his brown orbs touching your soul. you nod, not finding the words to say, mind too hazy to answer as you keep on taking his dick, taking him in like you always do.

"yes, oh god, yes, kento— please, inside— me," were the only words you managed to let out as your movements kept on getting sloppier and sloppier each moment passed by. he knew what it meant, and who he to deny such a polite request?

kento let himself release inside of you with a groan, making sure every drop of his cum is given to you. 

your pants envelope the room as you both try and catch your breaths— then a beat of silence.

you take kento's face in the palm of your hands and caress his cheek, "you know, i sometimes wish you could be rough," you say as you observe his sexed stupor, "i occasionally get rough on you, don't i?" he asks, eyebrows raised with confusion.

"no, like i mean, rough rough," you emphasize, "you're always so gentle. you don't think i can handle you?" faux sadness evident in your voice, one that your fiancée can never say no to, not when you're asking this nicely. "oh darling, i'm sorry, i will do it next time," he coos, fixing the loose strands on your hair by tucking them behind your ear.

"we can do it now?" you suggest, making the corner of kento's lips perk up, "oh? you sure you can handle it?"

"i know i can handle it," you say as your voice rang with confidence.

you knew kento had it in him to be rough, but good god, you never expected him to be this good. 

he had given you a more than good fucking, which leads you drooling on your sheets, with your back arched, ass up, and your hands held behind by kento as he drills his cock into your sopping cunt. his hands left prints on your ass and thighs, which left a delicious burn on your skin. "want to take my babies, don't you?" kento says as his hips meet your asscheeks.

"mnghh, yes, daddy! full— 'f your babies!" that was enough for him to unload himself inside of you, burying himself deeper to make sure you'll take all of it before he pulls out.

you were about to sit up, panting, when you felt kento's large hands wrap around your neck from behind, squeezing it while the other was pulling your hair.

"who said i was done with you, pretty?" the deep timbre of his voice went straight to your pussy.

this side of your fiancée is undoubtedly a pleasant surprise.

the following day, though, you were treated again like a queen, a bath ready for you by the time you woke up, surrounded with fresh flower petals that he had taken the time to buy from your nearest flower shop, and your favorite candle burning alongside your bath products. kento also insisted on giving you a full body massage to ease any tension and muscle ache.

you asked for it anyway, but you also don't mind this kind of treatment from him every now and then.

that time when you had a cold

you woke up feeling like absolute shit.

you don't know when or why it happened; it just did.

your head was throbbing the moment you opened your eyes, squinting at the sun rays that peeked through your windows. your body felt heavier than usual, and your shoulders felt sore. kento had taken notice of this as soon as he woke up, tending to your every need.

it pains your fiancée to see you in such a state, voice hoarse, your sniffles meet with a crumpled-up tissue near your nightstand, a mucus-filled cough every now and then, and an occasional "my throat hurts" whenever you speak. you had begged him to bring you some slightly cold water along with your food because lukewarm water doesn't hit just the same. but being the ever-responsible adult that kento is, he says no, leaving you sulking as you begrudgingly eat your food with a frown.

taking your medicine, though, is a different kind of task.

you stall every single time, finding it hard (or hating) to swallow the pills. even more so if he gave you water with a dissolved effervescent tablet, claiming it's too gross to drink, even if it doesn't really have any flavor. whenever you're sick, this is always the obstacle he has to face.

"please give me some juice or candy kento; it'll help when i drink the medicine," you begged, adding a touch of cooing pleases to make him say yes.

"i think the sweets you ate are what led you this way, darling," he says, which practically means no. 

a pattern he noticed is that whenever you eat too much salt or sweets without drinking the right amount of water, it always leads to you getting this sick. "it'll just be a little sip, please? baby?" you had finally hit a new low, busting out the occasional nickname when you need something from him.

"you're a big girl, honey; you can drink this. here, i'll cover your nose for you," at this point, you just let him do it; there's no way you'll be able to convince him. you reluctantly nod and decide to drink the medicine instead.

kento pinched the sides of your nose together, effectively covering the smell, or lack thereof (he doesn't even know why he covers your nose, he just knows you'll take it if you don't smell anything). your face scrunched as your tastebuds are met with an unfamiliar and unwelcome taste, but you drink it anyway, your throat desperately chugging it so you can be done with it right away.

once you felt that you had finally consumed all of the medicine, you immediately let go of kento's hold on your nose, quickly reaching out to the glass of lukewarm water on your nightstand. after you drink enough to allow the aftertaste of the medicine to go, you place it back and let yourself lie in bed.

"i'll prepare you dinner, and i'll be back, alright?" kento takes away your glasses and places them on the tray he had brought them with. he was about to leave the room when he felt you tugging on his shirt "hm? do you need something?"

you shake your head, "no, just... thank you," 

a small smile spread on his face, your fiancée takes his free hand on your head and gently ruffles your hair, "this is nothing to thank about darling, i'm just doing my job," he bends down and gingerly places a long kiss on your forehead, "i love you, get some rest." 

you nod, but not before giving him a small smile back.

that night after you had eaten your dinner and drank your medicine (albeit hesitantly), you spent the night with kento caging you in his firm, warm arms. 

you feel yourself get better by then.

that time when you got married

when you walked down the aisle, kento looked at you like you had hung the stars for him. his eyes sparkle as he sees you wearing the gown you've been working on for months; even kento himself can't believe he's seeing an angel.

is this what heaven is? is this a dream? are you even real? how lucky is he to be with someone like you?

kento always believed you're out of his league, someone out of reach, and like the stars from the sky, the only way to capture your beauty is through his eyes. but he couldn't believe that the universe was on his side, fate working its way to make him yours, and he happily obliged. 

cupid had shot him through the heart, and you stole it, and he can't even be mad at it. he'd happily give you all of him at the snap of your fingers. let himself be bare to you; let himself mesh with you. your soul, senses, beliefs, and love clouded onto him. 

he consumes every single aspect of you within him, lovers stitched together by fate that no one can even cut. 

kento sees himself becoming one with you, so he will never regret the time he got on his knees to present you with the prettiest ring he could ever find, but nothing can compare to the beauty you carry, not even this ring. 

when you accept him with a delighted "yes," kento swears he's the luckiest man alive ever, blessed by your whole being.

so when you finally reach his side, everyone becomes a blur, his eyes focused on you the whole time, soaking in your beauty; he can't believe this is the face he's going to see every morning for the rest of his life. 

"hey handsome, you look great," you say, holding kento's hand. "i could say the same to you, pretty," he replies, and he had to stop himself from kissing you right there and then.

and comes with the exchange of vows; kento feels slightly nervous but proud because he gets to declare his love for you in front of the people you both cherish most.

he clears his throat before opening up the letter in his hands and looks at you with such love and contentment.

"to the person who helped me see love in your form,

you've always painted colors on my blank canvas, and i cannot thank you enough. you shed light when i'm in my darkest days, have been with me through my stormy nights, and share my gloomy days.

you have been the compass to my lost soul, guiding me to the destination i know as love. you give harmony to my life as your laughter always brings music to my ears; your voice reminds me that you're here with me. you had composed the greatest symphony that sang its way to my heart, making me bare my soul, something that i will never regret," kento pauses, his voice croaked, words stuck in his throat as he tries to stop his tears from spilling. he fails to hear the audience coo in awe, focusing on you.

he continues, "loving you became my eternal pursuit, my garden whose roots are planted deeper than the sea where my endearment continues to blossom. 

every step with you feels like a dance, one that i will not get tired of swaying my heart with. your hands had made a map of my body and soul, imprinted the images of love one couldn't see, and only i could feel.

and the only time i get to call something home, i stare into the deep abyss of your eyes and see myself tangled with you.

with you, i am willing to get even our souls intertwined, dancing through life as we face the uncertainty together, with love ink deep within my veins.

to my anchor, my only solace, the only anthem my heart will forever sing,

i hope the warmth of your arms will forever embrace me, even after death." the attempt to keep his tears falling fails, so does the audience, and so did you.

your eyes filled with tears, but one that's full of love. your heart feels so full that it's threatening to spill out of you. you love kento so much that it hurts; it aches to the core that someone could ever love you this much.

and you're forever thankful.

that day, your promises to each other are officially sealed with a kiss so intense and wedding bands that even evil couldn't break, that no trespassers shall get into and rip your bond away.

when kento's lips met yours, it was soft, it was warm, it was sweet, it was comforting. 

finally, your husband thinks.

that day sealed the chapter to your newfound forever.

another note: i'm not so proud of the vows i made but i hope it captured kento enough lol srry 😭

[mysicklove]

i can imagine izuku still being a virgin and getting so pussydrunk because it's his first time

𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘

Pairings: Virgin! Sub! Top! Pro-Hero! Izuku x Experienced! Dom! Bottom! AFAB! Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Alcohol use, heavy overstimulation, vaginal penetration, biting, hickeys, creampie, crying, begging, nicknames,, multiple rounds

A/N: Guys Im going to be honest. This is lowkey mostly plot heavy and not too much smut. Im sorry anon I should have made it short and smutty, but I just had this idea and one thing lead to another... I will make short smut stuff!!!!!

Izuku was desperate to have sex. He may be doing fantastic career-wise, but his life in the sheets was dry. So unbelievably dry. He was so pent up, so frustrated, he needed it so badly. Every night he has to get himself off, and by god, he wanted more.

He met you a couple of weeks ago, and you have clouded his mind ever since. He doesn't even know your name. All he knows is you were wearing a red dress, and you kissed him so hard he couldn't breathe. Pressed your knee on his clothed cock, and just like nothing happened, disappeared.

He was drunk. The both of you were. He remembers the smell of alcohol on your breath, how flushed you look. He was probably no better, the fact that this happened at all means he had to be wasted. He barely has the confidence to talk to girls.

It happened at some sort of party that only celebrities or the rich attend, but with all the Google searches in the world, he couldn't find you. His search history was embarrassing.

But even so, he fantasized about you. The purr of your voice, the soft hands that ran over his muscular body, the way you said, “Such a pretty boy in front of me, you must have all the ladies in the palm of your hand, hmm?” while pressing your lips, coating with red lipstick, onto his neck.

He couldn't get you out of his head. He attended every single party, but alas he could never find you. He would end up at home, alone, touching himself.

Until he found you again, two months later. At another party.

He spills the champagne in his hands, when he sees you, eyes wide, before stumbling up and over to you. You are at a table by yourself, sipping on some sort of cocktail. You were in a dark blue tight dress today, and instead of that red lipstick that stained his neck, you were wearing clear lip gloss.

He awkwardly, and hesitantly taps your shoulder, and flushes when you turn around. The thoughts of that night come flooding back to him, and he has to look away so he doesn't get a hard-on.

“Oh! Deku, I didn't know you were here.” You say with a bright smile and he blinks at you. He just cannot stop thinking about the fact that this is the face he gets off to daily. The way you look now is so different than last time. You look so innocent, grinning so widely, it's nothing like the flushed, domineering persona you had that night.

Either way, it's still you and he gulps. “Hey! Yeah…I was invited.”

You smile into your glass cup. “I would hope so.”

He blushes. Such a stupid thing to say. Of course, he was invited and you were too, what was he even talking about? “So..What's your name?”

You hold out a hand and grin. “Y/N.”

He takes it and gently shakes it, trying to hold back his nervous shaking. “It's nice to me you, Im–”

“Deku?” You prompt with a tilt of your head.

He falters, “Uh yeah! But I was going to say, Izuku” He trails off and you laugh.

“Sorry. Got ahead of myself! It's nice to meet you Izuku.” And suddenly your facial features flip. That smirk is back. He loves it. “Your tie is all messed up, mind if I fix it?” He blushes but nods. You grin and grab onto the green tie, and he goes needle straight. “Yknow. You look awfully familiar, Izuku.” You say in a lone tone, that makes the blood flow straight to his cock.

He splutters, “You, you think so?” You drop the tie and hum. Your mouth opens, beginning another probably teasing remark when a call of your name cuts you off. A female voice, he takes specific note of.

You turn to him and smile. “Well, that's my cue. I'll see you around, pretty boy.”

He stands there staring at the space you just preoccupied with a blank face. And then it hits him. Pretty boy. That’s what you called him that night. You remember. You had to. He turns around quickly and says, “Wait!” but you are already gone. Hidden by the crowd of dancing and drinking rich idiots.

He eyes the cocktail you left, sighs, and finishes it off. He has gotta get some liquid courage in him if he wanted to be bold enough to deal with you.

He searched the party all night, but alas he couldn't find you. He almost began to give up hope, when suddenly he saw you. Alone, once again, and on the balcony. He sets his drink down and uses the silver reflection of his plate as a mirror to quickly brush through his hair. He sighs and then as calmly as he could so nobody would say anything, walks to the balcony.

When you hear the footsteps, you turn around, and when you see who exactly it is, you grin. He laughs nervously. “Woah, funny seeing you here, Y/N.”

You raise your eyebrow and turn to lean your back on the balcony ledge. “Oh don't give me that, I saw you looking for me all night like a lost puppy.” You throw your head back in a laugh and his ever-returning blush is back.

“Y-You knew? But, why didn't you…” He trails off when you step closer to him. Now you were less than a foot away, grinning up at him, he could almost feel your breasts press against him. He gulps and looks away, hoping to fight his arousal. He could smell the traces of alcohol.

You grab his face to make him look at you, and you lean forward like you are going to kiss him, and then pause, centimeters away. “Izuku, what do you want from me?”

“Everything.” He whispers eyes half-lidded as he stares at your lips.

You smile. “Good answer.” And then press his lips to his. He groans, low and softly, but leans into the kiss. He grabs your waist and presses you against him, and you pull away when you feel his hard cock. “Where should we go?” You prompt, basically inviting him to ask you to his place.

But, much to your dismay, he doesn't get it. “Bathroom,” He says, thinking back to that one night, and then leans forward for another kiss.

You pull away, eyebrows furrowed in disgust. His eyes widen when he feels your warmth disappear. “Bathroom, really? You–You are just like all the others. I thought after the whole romantic balcony scene you would at least have the decency to ask me to your place.” You turn around to head back inside.

He stumbles forward, and grabs your wrist, eyes pleading. “Wait! I'm sorry! I'm nervous, please come over! I've never done this before, I promise I'm not like the others,” He basically begs and this time your eyes widen.

“Oh my. Don't tell me, the number one pro hero, is a virgin?” He looks away and goes silent. You throw your head back in laugh at the confirmation, and he pouts. Then, you grab onto the green tie and pull him forward, he stumbles in front of you, the blush returning. “I'm going to have so much fun with you, pretty boy.”

Tonight was the best night ever, Izuku decides when his head is thrown back, mouth open, as you sink onto his cock. How could he be missing this all of his years? It was so much better than the fantasy. So much better.

“Oh god,” He groans, hands coming to your hips instinctually. You begin to steady your movements, sitting on your knees in his lap.

“How does it feel? After all this time, you finally lost your virginity,” You say with a grin, hand running down to trace his chest. He nods, a drunken smile pulling at his face.

He gazes down at your sexes and moans. “Feels good. Warm, mhmm so warm.” His voice cracks, “and tight. So much b-better than my hand.”

You laugh, but it comes out in broken pants, so you lean forward to kiss him. He pulls away quickly, eyes wide and panicked. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. I'm going to cum. No, no, it's too earlier. I can't” He shakes his head and clutches at the sheets beneath him, trying desperately to hold it back, as you continue to ride him.

You shake your head with an adoring gaze. “’s alright. We will just have to go again. And again and again, until you are all fucked out, hmm?”

He stares at you with hearts in his eyes, nodding rapidly. “Yes. Yes, please, please. Fuck. Cumming. I’m cuming!” And just like he said, he released his load in you and rolls his eyes back. Small gasps and a silent moan tumble down from his lips, and his hand shakes as he grips onto your hips.

You coax him through it with a smile, running your fingers through his unruly hair. When he comes down from his high he stares at you with a lazy grin, and the next thing you know you are being flipped over.

Your eyes widen as you feel Izuku start to move in and out again. It was surprising, he had just come down from his orgasm. Wasn't he being overstimulated? His pathetic whine answered your question. “Iz-Izuku, do you want to take a break?” You sigh when he begins to pick up the ruthless pace again.

He leans his head into your neck and shakes his head rapidly. His voice comes out in a pitchy whine, “But you said!” He grips the pillow next to your head and whimpers into your neck, feeling the pain of his spent cock being overworked.

“We can go again after you recover.” You gasp and clutch onto his back, sending nail marks down it. He groans. “So it won't hurt you.”

He shakes his head again and you can feel the drip of the tears falling onto your neck. He was trembling. “No. Please don't make me stop. ‘m good. So good. Feels so so good.”

You grin, maybe a little sadistically as you watch him begin to crumble. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer. He moans, high pitched, and loud. He presses his lips to your neck, sucking and marking any area he can lay his mouth on. You crane your neck to allow his urges. “I love it. I love it.” He half murmurs half whines in between kisses.

“Hmm?” You respond, not trusting yourself to speak while he begins to pick up the pace. One hand grips onto his hair and the other continues to scratch his back.

“Your pussy. S-So warm and tight. ’s like it was made for me.” He gasps and you laugh, to the best of your ability.

You pull him back by the mop on his head and he whines, eyes shut, as his head tilts backward. “What happened to my bashful virgin? You're so lewd now.” His hips pick up the pace.

He tries to the best of his ability to shake his head but ultimately fails under your grip. “But I love it! I do!” You laugh at the ridiculous response and let go of his hair. He collapses back and immediately buries his face into your neck again. “Im going to cum again. Can I cum? Please, please.”

“So quick. Still have a virgin body. Alright. For me, yeah?”

He nods a little embarrassed, and he feels his muscles begin to contract. He bites down on your shoulder and you hiss, but he ignores it, riding his second orgasm through. It's stronger and harder than the first and he screams into your skin, tears falling copiously down his round, flushed cheeks.

He peers down and widens his eyes when he sees his cum begin to leak out of your pussy. He gulps, feeling himself get hard once again, and flips you over immediately. “More. More. Please, just one more. One more time.” He lays completely on top of you and interjoins his fingers with yours.

He uses his arm to lift your hips up so that it was easier to fuck. It makes you raise your eyebrows. He must have watched a lot of porn to know that trick.

“What if I say no?” You tease and he releases an unsteady whine. His eyes are blurry from the tears.

“Please don't say no. Please, I love it. I love it so much. Please, Y/N!” He begs, dropping his head on the pillow next to your face.

“So needy.”

“P-Please.” He whimpers, in a voice so low you could barely hear and you grin.

“Alright. Go ahead.” You could barely finish your statement when all of a sudden he is pounding into you again, mumbling stuff like “Thank you. Thank you.” and “Good. So good.”

You know it hurts him. It has too, overstimulation is no joke. But the way he continues, eyes watery and hips frantic shows just how desperate he is. How obsessed he is with it. The pain didn't even matter to him, the thought of driving his cock into you spurred him on.

He wanted more. You opened his eyes, and once uncovering the truth, he could never get enough of it.

Fucking Izuku may not have been a good idea. In an instant, you turned this poor, cute virgin, into a pussy-starved man. But alas, he seems to only seek it from one particular person, so it may not be all that bad.

He came five times that night and you twice. He asked to go again, but you had to stop him when you took a peak at his fuming red cock, tear-stained cheeks, and trembling body. He doesn't seem to know when to stop.

You left early that morning, legs wobbly and body completely spent. He slept in, his body seeming to be more exhausted than yours.

When he woke up, his body sticky from sweat, his hair messy and body was sore, the first thing he took notice was the sticky note stuck onto his forehead.

Messy, cursive handwriting spelled out, I’ll be waiting for my lost puppy to come crawling back to me again. Xoxo, Y/N

He fell back onto the pillow with a groan. Not even a phone number. You were so cruel.

So, he does what any good puppy does. He attends every party for the next three weeks until he finds you again.

[kimis-gloves]

sour - charles leclerc

word count : 780 - oneshot

hehe a lil charlie smut>:)

warnings: morning sex, dirty talk, petnames, if you squint very hard then angst?? but not rlly, softdom!charles, slight degrading, post/pre shower sex.

as early in the morning as it was, you hear Charles turning on the shower, humming whatever song he has stuck in his head from the never ending party you two went to last night. through your raging headache, you miss the warmth of your boyfriend so you stumble your way into the connecting bathroom, still in his hoodie that you managed to change into at 4:30 in the morning. Charles, already in the shower, washing off the sticky champagne & sweat. Coming p2 in Australia was something to be proud of, but he didnt feel proud. he hoped to do better next time as he hears y/n stumble her way into the bathroom, quickly going for a pee before speaking to charles through the glass doors.

“Good morning charles, ill start us some coffee”

“Thank you my love”

as you head out to make charles his favourite way of coffee, he finishes his shower and steps out to dry himself off and thats when you walk back in, coffees in hand. he looks absolutely amazing like this. hes stood infront of the large window, in nothing but a towel. the water beading off of him and dripping out of his hair. you set down the coffees and make your way towards the drool worthy man thats infront of you. you wrap your arms around his shoulders as you leave soft and wet kisses along his jawline. already being in somewhat of a sour mood, charles doesn’t appreciate your teasing and takes things into his own hands as he quickly grabs you by your hips and bends you over the counter top, almost knocking off the now close to cold coffees.

“Char-“

“A-Ah, no talking cherie, just let me take care of you right now~”

and with that you did. quickly shutting up for him as you let the man take however much control he desired from you. you thank him for any type of touch that he gives you. he goes to quickly pull down your panties, when he realizes you dont even have any on.

“What a dirty girl you are cherie.. no panties and already dripping out of your cunt like this? My my, im not sure what i should do with such a whore like you.”

he aggressively puts a hold into your hair and pulls you up to be face close to charles, breathing rapidly as he whispers,

“dont move, dont make a sound or else you will regret it. listen as i say and you wont have to suffer, am i clear darling?”

“Yes c-Charles” you say with a whine

“Hm, i dont think i was” he mutters, slowly sliding his tip along your slick-coated pussy. you whine again when he quickly smacks the side of your thigh “No noise, slut” he growls before shoving his 2 fingers into your mouth, allowing you to lick and spit on them. pulling them out and away from your mouth he instead inserts them both into your cunt.

fighting back moans, you clench your walls around charles’ fingers, letting him know how much you want to be filled his his cock.

“mon amour you feel so good, i cant wait to fill you with my cum.” he grumbled into your ear as he finally inserts his cock into your aching cunt, he bottoms out with a low hum into your ear. he slowly grinds into your pussy, drawing out lewd sounds from both of you. both you and Charles have given up on trying to keep you quiet as he just gets completely lost into your body. he sets a firm & steady pace, nearly knocking you out as he suddenly slams into you, the noise that leaves both your and his mouth is something that belongs in a porno. he wraps around your torso, one hand grabbing and pinching onto your nipple and the other reaching down to your throbbing clit. the sudden sensation is enough to set you over and soon enough you find yourself cumming all over his cock and fingers, him quickly following after as the tight & wet feeling on his cock is just too good not to cum from.

slowly pulling out of you, he’s planting kisses all over your body. turning the shower back on as he guides you in, making sure the water is the perfect temperature and that you aren’t going to topple over.

“my love, i should probably go remake these coffees” Charles laughs, placing a kiss onto your temple. as you watch Charles put his clothes on and leave the bathroom, coffees in hand, you couldn’t be more thankful to have such a perfect boyfriend like him.

a/n: i hope u enjoyed❤️ this was just something small. likes & reblogs always appreciated ❤️❤️

[ddaisyvision]

𝐆𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄! | 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈

𝐚/𝐧: im back bitches and it feels great! writing this was real fun. i was smokin a lil weed, listening to music and then gimme more by britney spears came on and thus this was born. it was supposed to be a mini fic but.. i got a lil carried away lmao. enjoy my babies! 💋

𝐜𝐰: pervy!denji, sleazy!denji, stripper!reader (your stripper name is diamond btw), fem!bodied, heavy petting, sloppy kissing, alcohol use, raw penetrative sex, breeding(?)| 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧)

Even in his twenties, Denji was still a perverted loser. He may have been a great devil hunter; but his lust for women kept him anchored on distraction. Tits. Pussy. Asses. The fat of their thighs spreading when they sit. The way they smell; so sweet like flowers or a piece of decadent dessert. The allure of femininity alone scratched an itch within him. 

So is it any surprise that Denji’d be spending his nights at the local strip club? Every Friday; his only day off a week, he’d be sat with his ones in tow sitting in the front row of the stage every bit of gitty. He was like a teenage boy, already undressing the half dressed dancers that walked around the dimly lit club with his hungry eyes. 

“Alright gentlemen! This girl’s a newcomer to our club tonight, so open your wallets and please give a warm welcome to the gorgeous Diamond!”

Denji’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw you, walking achingly slow towards the middle of the big pink stage. You were dressed in all baby blue; soft white accents of your outfit making you look every bit of angelic. Your breasts were adorned in a sparkly bikini-like top, the twinkle of every rhinestone calling attention to the audience like a flare in the sky. His eyes were then fixated onto your navel where a heart shaped charm hung ever so dainty. His gaze traveled down to your soft legs as they wrapped around the pole, a vision of those same legs wrapped around his waist as he took you quickly coming to mind. 

Denji’s now fighting the agitating urge to palm himself through his jeans, his cock now painfully hard as he watched you grind and shake your plump ass on the pole. Your body seemed to float when you danced, a mix of seduction and grace that was quite impressive for an amateur. Your routine landed you on the floor of the stage, crawling towards the man that looked to be her biggest fan already.

Denji swallowed his nerves and braced himself as you got closer, eyes immediately falling to your cleavage. As you sensually touch your body in front of him, grinding and arching your back for his viewing pleasure, Denji’s hands start to stuff money right in between your breasts. You can’t help but giggle at his eagerness to show his appreciation for you, so you turn around and wiggle your ass in his face, Denji’s cheeks now bloodshot red. His lust was so obvious, hands touching every bit of skin he could before your routine was over.

You liked him. You didn’t know why but you did. He tipped you so nicely and his hands felt so good on your skin it almost lit you ablaze. You both seem to get lost in the moment as you let him explore your curves, softly gasping when his slender fingers ghost past your pussy. It was a cheeky move that caught you by surprise, touching this salacious normally granted in a gentle ass-whooping by security. Luckily no one saw.

Long after your dance, you and Denji continued the party in one of the luxe VIP rooms in the back. One glass of champagne led to another and suddenly you were both all over each other. Denji may have had to dip into his savings a bit to afford you but god were you worth every cent. You were sat in his lap tasting him, your tongues swirling together to take each other in. His teeth gently tug at your bottom lip as he reluctantly pulls back, his hands speaking more than he might have been. He starts to knead at your breasts, tugging the fabric of your top aside to reveal your soft mounds. Denji moans as if he’d just slipped inside you at the sight of your puffy nipples, taking his time licking and sucking and tugging at each one with sloppy noises following every motion. Heat started to rise from between your legs, essence oozing from your pussy as your mouth hangs agape. You really want to keep quiet. Sex wasn’t allowed in the VIP rooms but so long as the customers paid, no one seemed to mind. 

“We can’t, baby, not in here.” You purr directly into his ear. Each hair at the back of Denji’s neck stands, your sweet voice causing his already aching cock to twitch and leak furiously. The thought of not getting what he paid for struck a chord in Denji. 

“C’mon. Might as well gimme somethin’.” Denji pulls this line out of his back pocket, trying not to sound desperate but the teasing is killing him at this point. All he can think of is burying his cock deep inside your gorgeous pussy and fucking you until you both see stars. You take one look into his puppy dog eyes and swoon, taking a hand to dotingly stroke his angry cock through his pants. You erupt into a fit of giggles as you watch him flinch and buck his hips up to meet your hands for more friction. 

“Fine. You’re lucky you’re cute...” 

Any more foreplay would have the both of you erupting with just one touch, lips crashing into each other for one sloppy mess of a drunken kiss. Both your hands get tangled together as you try to take off Denji’s jeans, the sound of his belt buckle hitting the hardwood floor with a clank. The sexual tension between the two of you was suffocating as if you couldn’t get to each other fast enough. Finally Denji’s cock sprung free from the confines of his clothes. It was surprisingly big. Not too lengthy with the right amount of girth. His poor cock had been leaking so much the front of Denji’s boxers were soaking wet. Had he already cum?

Your sultry eyes drink him in, sliding your panties out of the way as your feet plant down on either side of his legs on the long lounge chair. Your sopping cunt is now hovering over his lonely tip, your pretty hand wrapped around his length to keep him still. As you slowly sink down you can feel the slickness of your pussy coating him, the two of you moaning in sync at the sensation. The delicious pressure caused you to bite your lip to keep the noise at a minimum, sitting all the way down as Denji’s face lay snugly between your cleavage. He’s already losing his mind, his fingers digging indents into the skin of your hips to lift you up and down on his cock, you following his rhythm by bouncing up and down. Fuck he filled you so nicely, causing your legs to shake with every bounce of your hips. Hell, you could barely keep yourself up, Denji’s learned a thing or two from all those pornos he spends his spare time reading, licking the tip of his thumb to flick at your swollen bud. You can feel yourself clench around him as he touches you there, your moans becoming more and more difficult to keep them down. 

“Haah, fuck, haaaah.” Denji moans, almost louder than you. 

His voice was shaky, breath uneven. You can hear bits and pieces of how good your pussy feels, how badly he wants to cum inside you; but it’s hard to make out. You can tell he’s close; you were too. You stop your hips and let his lust drive his movement, his hips thrusting upwards without you having to direct him. Your hands find themselves in Denji’s hair, holding him closely as you come undone for him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your entire body sits limp in Denji’s grasp. It doesn’t take much longer for Denji to follow suit, his cock finally finding the release it had been craving since the moment he saw you. He fucks his seed into you without a thought behind his eyes besides cumming. Fits of ‘oh fuck’s and ‘shit’ flood from his lips as his head hangs back in the seat, facing the ceiling. His hot sticky cum flooded your walls, some even leaking and dripping all over the chair beneath you two as you watched him get off with satisfied eyes. 

“You’re cute when you cum.” You say to him, trying to catch your breath as you fit a small giggle in between. Denji smiles, his head finally rising again to look you in your eyes.

“See you next Friday?” He asks with a gleam of mischief in his eyes. You can’t help but laugh.

“For sure.”

[artdcnaldson]

and when we move on (we dont) and get a new boyfriend and get engaged all within the span of six months and suddenly art finds himself at your engagement party and you look happy and he thinks maybe he imagined his importance to you - maybe he had it wrong and he was the fleeting obsession. how else are you able to move on so quickly? he's miserable but he still plucks up the courage to come congratulate you even if he doesn't mean a word of it. says, "you look beautiful - honestly." just because, well you do.

and its then that your mask slips - you look like art punched you - not those slaps you'd both traded in the past - but like he'd genuinely punched you in the gut. wounded ane pained like he'd just said the most awful thing in the world to you. and your hands tremble when you hand him your champagne glass and mumble "im sorry - excuse me -"

you have to be somewhere alone. suddenly constricted and panting and you find and alcove to lean against and you feel tears burn your eyes and even worse still, a presence at your back - "hey, what -" because of course its him, of course it is. "what's wrong - what did i say -"

you could laugh. you could laugh if a sob wasn't cut off in your throat. you hate him. on your engagement day. the nerve to say you were beautiful. with those genuine eyes and soft expression - like he meant it. like he always thought you were.

he breaks your heart and and you try to move on - you let yourself drown in the next man that shows you attention because arts words follow you everywhere - how you're not the marriage type - well, your fiance wanted you. he wanted you and that had to be enough because if you remained alone and unwanted you think you'd die from the pain of it -

so for him to say something like that now - all of the sudden -

"why do you hate me? i left you alone, didn't i? patricks still your friend. you have everything you wanted - I just want to move on, art. I just want to be wanted - why are you here?"

GODDDDD your mind <3

You know it’s sudden— everyone knows it’s sudden. But you’re the only one who knows why you rushed into it so intensely. Why, after six months with someone, you agreed to marry someone who you hardly even knew.

You knew the basics— Charlie wanted to be a college professor. His mother was filthy fucking rich, old money, and she liked that you came from an affluent background. He enjoyed skiing, and watching tennis, and he did rowing in high school. He was allergic to cats. He liked ordering raw oysters and slurping them down embarrassingly loud at restaurants. He never ordered for you, always paid the bill, never pushed you past a heavy makeout session on the couch.

Because you couldn’t go past that anymore. You couldn’t be easy, couldn’t give it up. You had to be the type of girl someone would marry, you had to be girlfriend material, and wife material, and mother material.

Charlie wanted to get married, wanted a big family, and you checked those boxes for him. You’d never have to want for anything, he’d pamper you and keep you spoiled like you were used to. He was strawberry blonde like Art, but his smile was more refined and practiced, and you wish it wasn’t. When he proposed you said yes, and cried tears that were supposed to be happy, but how could you know for sure?

Art shows up to the engagement party as Patrick’s plus one, and you feel dizzy. But you have to be normal— you can’t give anything away. You just… try to avoid him. When he starts gravitating your way, you find an excuse to talk to someone else, or make your way into the kitchen for a fresh drink. Anything to stay away, because you can’t fucking see him. You can’t do that right now, or ever.

But of course he finds a way— he’s too polite or maybe he’s just too cruel to leave the party without offering a congratulations. You’re cornered like prey, grip so tight on the stem of your champagne flute that you’re worried it’ll snap.

And he doesn’t say congratulations. He just looks at you with a genuine, completely earnest smile and says, “You look really beautiful. He’s really lucky.”

You feel your heart seize in your chest, like someone’s grabbed it and squeezed viciously. The corners of your mouth twitch downwards, but you fight it and bring a polite, practiced smile to your lips. “Could you excuse me for a second?”

He looks confused as you put your glass in his hand, as you close his fingers around it so he doesn’t drop the expensive crystalware. As soon as you’re sure he has it, you’re weaving through the many guests to find solitude. Most of them are Charlie’s friends, few are your acquaintances— people that would just as soon pray on your downfall as they would offer a sweet congratulations.

You slip into the hallway feeling suffocated, drawing quick breaths through your nose until you tuck yourself away in a nicely tucked away alcove and take a slow, steadying breath.

But Art lingers at the edge of your vision, and you want to just cry and cry as he gets closer, as he puts a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, what…” his brow furrows, he searches your face for some sort of clue, something to help him understand. “What’s wrong? What did I say?”

The noise you let out is strangled, almost animal. You look at him and see that he means it, he doesn’t fucking know, he doesn’t understand. Maybe he just can’t.

“I can’t believe you’re—“ your voice cracks and you look away from him. You can’t stand to see that kicked puppy expression, the earnest concern. You can’t fucking look at it. “And after everything?”

Charlie is a good man. Charlie makes you happy, or he can one day, with time and distance. And he sees you as someone he wants to spend his life with. Isn’t that enough? Why is Art trying to spoil it for you when the alternative is proving him right? That would kill you. You’d rather just die.

“I was just…” he trails off, turns your face toward him with two fingers against your chin. The softest he’s ever touched you, and it feels so foreign and wrong that it shatters something inside that you thought you’d fully repaired. “I thought you’d want to know. That I still think about you, that I want you to be happy.”

Tears spill down your cheek, inky and black from your mascara. “You’re so fucking mean, Art.” Your voice is weak as you look at him. He drops his hand back to your side, but stays close, so close you’re reminded of how intoxicating his presence can be. “Why are you doing this to me? Huh? I did what you asked and I left you alone. And I didn’t tell Patrick, because I didn’t want to hurt you. Why isn’t that enough? Why are you trying to spoil this for me?”

Confusion and hurt flashes across his features. Is that what you thought he wanted? For you to really leave him alone? He didn’t want that, it nearly fucking killed him. He spent the end of senior year tanking in tournaments, he hardly slept.

Patrick had told you about Art floundering, and it made you sick. You’d actually laid in bed crying about it, wracked with guilt. You thought it was all because of you, because you’d distracted him and ruined him.

It felt like he was there only to remind you that you were poison. That you would do the same to the sweet boy just through a set of double doors as you had done to him. But you wouldn’t. You’d never do that again.

“Charlie wants me. I’ve been his girlfriend for only a few months and he already wants to marry me,” your wavers pathetically as you think back to what Art had said back home. The prospect that he could be right was fucking terrifying, but you’d left that girl behind. “He could be the only one who wants me like this. So why are you trying to show up to my engagement party and look at me like you— like—“

You can’t say it, but he knows. He looks at you and he knows. You wince as he sinks to his knees in front of you, tears filling your eyes. Because his hands slide up your calves, settle on the back of your thighs.

He kisses your knee, softly, reverently, looks up at you with soft, desperate eyes. You sigh softly as his lips trail up, skimming along your soft thighs. You lean back, pressing against the wall, feeling yourself melt for him.

“Art,” you gasp weakly. “You can’t. We— we can’t.” You know you’re speaking the truth, but your words and your actions aren’t aligned. Your fingers card into his hair, and your entire body lights up when you finally touch him again.

It aches in your chest— longing and hurt and love and hatred. You never felt as much as you do with him. Charlie doesn’t light up that part of you the way Art does. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it needs to be hidden away, cut off like a rotting limb.

His lips press to the spot just beneath your hem, and he peers up at you. “Let me.”

Not a question. A plea. Let him.

Let him what? Love you? Touch you? Let him eat you out in the shadows of a hotel hallway? Let him back in? Let him have you? Let him be yours to worship again?

“Okay,” your voice is barely above a whisper. “Okay.” You repeat, just to make sure you’re certain. Of what, you don’t know.

His head slips beneath the skirt of your dress, and you moan softly at the press of his lips over your panties. Soft, sweet kisses over the fabric that make you open up for him. You feel need dripping from your center, longing.

You haven’t been touched since him— not that he’d ever actually tried. But having him touch you, kiss you… it feels like ice melting.

He tugs your panties to the side, mouths at your cunt like he’s kissing it. Like he’s kissing you. You moan softly, let your head knock against the wall.

“Art—“ you practically sob. His tongue parts you, laps at you from your dripping entrance to your clit. He moans and nuzzles closer, lets his nose rub against your clit as he presses his tongue inside of you. He squeezes at your thighs, dimples the plush flesh there.

You’re so sensitive— it’s a combination of months of barely even touching yourself, of missing him, of craving him. You’re dripping onto his tongue, moaning softly. You can’t manage more than soft gasps of his name, pleas for more— Art Art Art Art Art.

He draws your orgasm out easily, like it belongs to him. Laps at your release, works you through it until your knees are shaking. He pulls back, mouth glistening with your release.

He stays on his knees, presses another soft kiss to your thighs, and another, over and over again. Soft, reverent, tender. He looks up at you so earnestly, so desperately, that you feel a sob stick in your throat.

“I need to get back,” you say suddenly, when the ache in your chest is too much to bear. “Charlie’s probably wondering… you know— I’ve been gone too long.”

“Charlie?” Art asks, his voice weak, pathetic. He’s still looking up at you from his knees, and he has to scramble up when you start walking towards the women’s bathroom to tidy your makeup. “Why are you doing this?“

He could be asking anything. You answer what you think he needs to hear, what h ended a to know. “He’s going to be a good husband, Art. He’s always sweet, and he’s never… he doesn’t just see me like— like what you see.” You take a steadying breath. “What you said to me back home was true, I know that now. But I can’t just be alone. It’ll kill me.”

You pause, let your lip twitch into a sad smile. “Just please leave me alone, Art.”

You slip into the bathroom, he hears you click the door locked so you can’t follow. Not like last time. When he returns to the party, he drinks three more glasses of champagne. He leaves before Charlie gives a toast to you, to your impending marriage. He can’t fucking stomach it.

[its-avalon-08]

One in which the reader is a engineer, the young drivers see her as a big sister and they are trying to get her and Hulkenberg on a date.

set us up (nh27)

im so sorry for getting to this so late, this got lost somewhere in drafts and never saw the light of day but now here it is! enjoy <3

✦ pairing - nico hulkenberg x female!reader

✦ genre - all fluff

day 1: The Coffee Caper

Y/N was exhausted. The post-race debrief had dragged on forever, and all she craved was a strong cup of coffee. Stepping into the motorhome kitchen, she was surprised to find Nico already there, rummaging through the cupboards. "Morning, Nico," she greeted, stifling a yawn. "Looking for something?"

He whirled around, a half-empty bag of coffee beans clutched in his hand. "Uh, yeah. Looks like we're out. Big day ahead, you know?" Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Funny. I could've sworn I saw Daniel bringing in a fresh box yesterday." Suddenly, the door burst open and Daniel Ricciardo himself strutted in, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

"Good morning, lovelies!" he declared, brandishing two steaming mugs. "Just brewed a fresh pot especially for you two... because, you know, sharing is caring." Y/N and Nico exchanged bewildered glances. "Thanks, Daniel," Y/N mumbled, taking the mug. "But really, there was no need."

Daniel winked. "Nonsense! Sharing a morning coffee is practically a first date tradition, wouldn't you say, Nico?" Nico choked on his own spit, sending Y/N into a fit of giggles. "Date?" Nico sputtered. "This is just coffee, mate." Daniel winked again before sauntering out, leaving Y/N and Nico flustered in his wake.

day 2: The Simulator Shuffle

Practice Day 2 was underway, and Y/N was meticulously analyzing telemetry data when Pierre Gasly materialized beside her. "Hey, Y/N," he said casually. "Need a hand setting up Nico's sim session?"

Y/N looked up, surprised. "Nico's already done with his laps?" "Uh, yeah," Pierre stammered, avoiding her gaze. "But his settings seem a bit off. Maybe you could… check them out?" Y/N raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Pierre, what's going on?"

Just then, a sheepish grin spread across Charles Leclerc's face as he peeked around the corner. "Just some friendly driver bonding, wouldn't you say, Y/N?" he chirped before disappearing as quickly as he arrived.

Y/N sighed, a smile tugging at her lips. She found Nico already strapped into the simulator, looking equally bewildered" "Hey," she greeted, a playful edge to her voice. "Having trouble with the settings?"

Nico chuckled, a hint of nervousness in his eyes. "Seems so. Maybe you, the resident genius, could lend a hand?" Y/N spent the next few minutes fiddling with the settings, her presence making Nico acutely aware of the way his heart hammered in his chest. They fell into an easy conversation, discussing racing lines and strategies, the tension between them simmering just beneath the surface.

day 3: The Post-Race Pitstop

The race had been a nail-biter, with Red Bull pulling off a surprise victory. As the celebrations died down, Y/N found herself face-to-face with Nico by the champagne fountain. "Great race," Nico said, raising his glass in a toast. "You guys deserved that win." Y/N clinked her glass against his, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "Thanks, Nico. You weren't too shabby yourself out there."

Suddenly, Alex Albon materialized behind them, holding two large ice cream tubs. "Victory ice cream, courtesy of yours truly!" he declared, shoving a tub into Y/N's hands. "Chocolate chip cookie dough, your favorite, Y/N," he winked before handing the other tub to Nico and disappearing as quickly as he arrived.

Y/N and Nico stared at each other, then at the ice cream in their hands. "Well," Nico said, a hesitant smile gracing his features. "This seems like a good spot to enjoy the view... and the ice cream." Y/N laughed, a genuine, carefree sound. "Agreed."

They sat on the pit wall, shoulder to shoulder, savoring the sweet treat and the unspoken connection that crackled between them. Maybe, just maybe, the young drivers were onto something after all.

time skip

The Monaco twilight cast an almost romantic glow over the bustling paddock after the race. Mechanics were packing up, champagne flutes were drying on tables, and a tired but satisfied energy crackled in the air. Y/N, having just finished a post-race debrief with her engineers, was about to head back to her hotel when a familiar shadow fell across her path.

"Hey," Nico greeted, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Still analyzing the data? You engineers are a meticulous bunch."

Y/N smiled, the playful banter a familiar comfort. "Someone has to keep you drivers in check, make sure you haven't just been out there winging it."

Nico chuckled, a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine despite herself. "Oh, trust me, there's plenty of winging it involved. But hey, at least it's entertaining."

They stood there for a moment, a comfortable silence settling between them. Y/N knew what everyone else had been whispering for days – the other drivers, trying (and failing) to subtly nudge them together. She couldn't deny there was a spark between her and Nico, a shared love for the sport that transcended results and podium finishes.

"So," Nico started, scratching the back of his neck, a nervous habit Y/N had come to find endearing. "I know this might seem a little… well, after all the matchmaking attempts from the others…"

Y/N couldn't help but grin. "Let me guess, they finally wore you down?"

"Something like that," Nico admitted, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "But honestly, it's not just because of them. There's, uh, there's something about talking to you that's different. You understand the pressure, the thrill, the madness of it all."

His blue eyes met hers, sincere and kind. A blush crept up Y/N's cheeks. "Maybe you understand it a little too well, Mr. Hulk."

Nico's smile widened. "Maybe we could understand it together sometime, outside of the paddock. How about dinner? No post-race debriefs, just good food and good conversation."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. This wasn't just any invitation, it was Nico asking her out, on his own terms. "That sounds… perfect," she finally managed, a genuine smile lighting up her face.

"Great," Nico said, relief washing over his features. "Then how about I pick you up tomorrow night? Eight o'clock work for you?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Y/N replied, her voice brimming with excitement.

As Nico turned to leave, a playful glint returned to his eyes. "Just a warning, though," he said over his shoulder. "I might be a wing-it kind of driver, but I promise to bring my A-game to dinner."

Y/N laughed, the sound echoing through the emptying paddock. "We'll see about that, Nico. We'll see about that."

[k0yaz]

hey can you do a clorinde fanfic, where there’s a party in Fontaine and she gets like jealous of the amount of attention we’re getting from other people. And she like takes the reader to a private place to blur out her protectiveness but we like tease her about being jealous so she ends up confessing😻 (sorry this was long af💀)

sweet nothings.

Pairings: clorinde x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, jealousy, alcohol mention, weird guy trying to hit on u idk, teeny tiny bit of clorinde getting violent woah, protective grape lady awawawawa, uh oh she gets mad at for a sec, confessions idk??? GIRLS KISSING WEEWOOOWEEWOOO, navia is so lucky fr ngl, not proofread

A/N: WAAA IM OUT OF TEA 🕯️ oooo I like this emoji also navia is so lucky to have this woman I’m crying

Indistinct chatter circled the room of the banquet hall upon entering, making your eyes glance from side to side to observe the lavish interior of the hall. Each corner of the luxurious enclosure was packed to the brim with crowds of well dressed men and women, all standing upright in a distinctive manner, almost seeming insincere in their sophisticated habits. You blinked as you felt a shoulder push up against yours, brushing your silk clothing from behind. Clorinde made her way beside you, gently pushing her way through the congested crevices of the crowd.

“Mm. It took you long enough.” You snickered, earning an unamused scoff from Clorinde as she folded her arms to observe the atmosphere of the space. Despite being the champion duelist of Fontaine, Clorinde was never a huge fan of posh celebrations with many people. It wasn’t that she reserved from crowds or sheepish when interacting with other people, as being the champion duelist often would include public display before many.

Rather, it was the nagging feeling she would experience whenever some rich snob would enthusiastically speak with you, brushing his or her hand along your shoulder with a noticable covetous look in their eyes. The disgusting intentions behind their friendly demeanor made her want to circle her arm around your waist and pull you flush against her, making it clear for said person to take their hands off of you. Plus, the crowds furnishing said area would bring a sort of unease to her in a way, discomforting her when seeing the off-putting facades of others to keep up their image.

You immediately grasped Clorinde’s gloved hand, squeezing her palm flush against yours as your fingers locked between hers. Feeling her tense hand relax, you flashed her a sweet smile, attempting to reassure her that she wouldn’t have to worry about anything. That this party was just going to be a quick come and go event the two of you were invited to. She reluctantly nodded, bringing her free hand up and pushing her hat back to crease her forehead slightly.

“Sorry. There’s nothing you need to worry about. You can just enjoy yourself, (Name).” She replied, trying to uphold her stoic front in an attempt to hide any strong emotions. You shrugged in response, letting go of her hand as you decided to not look too much into Clorinde’s words. After all, she hasn’t been the most expressive person around. Yet nevertheless, she was your friend whom you cared so deeply for—so it wouldn’t hurt to keep a quick eye on her every moment or so to make sure she was fine. After all, you didn’t want anyone trying to snatch up your charming lady.

“If you say so, Clorinde.”

You forced your way through the cramped groups of people in the hall, finding your way to the alcohol station on the other side of the room. Looking over your shoulder, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy wrenching your chest upon seeing Clorinde already partaking in a conversation with a stranger. You shook your head, pushing your way to the alcohol station in order to concern yourself with how you were going to spend your own time here.

A thin glass of champagne suddenly slid your way, slightly hitting your elbows situated on the table. You perked up, a little perplexed at the sudden glass filled with freshly filled champagne before you. Did this hall have some sort of strange automatic serving system?

“I’m up here.”

A low voice called out, placing a hand on the table before you as you heard the click of a tongue. Looking up, you were met with the sight of a seemingly wealthy man eyeing you as he poured himself another glass of champagne. You paused, raising an eyebrow before delivering him an awkward smile, shrinking back slightly as he gave you an uncomfortably friendly grin. “Ah. Thanks for the drink.” You hesitated, bringing the glass to your lips as you sipped the alcohol, averting your eyes from the strangely amiable man.

Before long swarms of people circled around you, showering you with attention and flattery as you let out a hearty laugh at their praises. Your face was flushed from the drinks that you had, your….sixth? Seventh..? You didn’t even know which one it was as you let out a laugh from everyone speaking to you with such a profound interest in you. All of a sudden, you noticed that same man who slid you that drink about an hour ago push his way through the array of people bundled up before you, shouldering past them until he stood directly in front of you with a rather odd expression you couldn’t put your finger on.

You raised an eyebrow as he took your hand abruptly, his own face flushed as well. The crowd seemed to part themselves from the two of you, with others on the side also noticing the exchange between you two. Raising an eyebrow, you squinted your eyes as you felt his other hand rest upon your shoulder, a sort of unsettlingly craving sense present in his expression. “What are you even doing…?” You drawled out, not thinking to push him off immediately due to your senses still being foggy. He just let out a hum as his fingers tightened into your shoulder, making you wince from the slight ache.

Your eyes flickered with a slight twinge of distasteful revulsion as he leaned in uncomfortably close to your face, trying to close the distance every time you repelled back from his face.

All of a sudden, he skidded backwards against the floor, being driven back away from you as a shocked expression adorned his face. Your eyebrows raised in slight surprise, not expecting to see Clorinde directly behind him, fingers firmly grasping the back of his collar. Her deadpan eyes pierced into him, leaving a hanging silence in the whole hall upon seeing the whole fiasco pan out before them.

After what seemed like centuries of silence among the party, Clorinde’s low voice broke through the silence as you could sense her annoyance from the way she glared down at the man—who was pathetically scrambling away from her to his own safety. “Get. Away from her.” She hissed, her tone laced with venom. You felt her hand grasp your arm and yank you away from the center of the crowd, hundreds of eyes still fixated on you and tracking your movement as Clorinde dragged you outside the banquet hall.

Once outside, Clorinde rested her arms along the stone lining of the balcony, the cool air grazing your skin as the continued chatter resumed behind you. The muffled noise resounding from the banquet hall was the least of your worries as you saw the duelist reclined against the balcony, eyes aimlessly focused on random sights below the elevated platform. Not understanding the sudden protective action she took, you staggered over to her, step still slightly wobbly from the alcohol in your system.

“Pfft..are you still gonna act like you didn’t just drag me out like a jealous girlfriend-?” You beamed, face tinted a muted red as you leaned against the railing on one arm to grin in Clorinde’s direction. She only huffed in response, lowering her hat bashfully and avoiding eye contact with you.

“He was forcing himself onto you.”

“Ha! No he just thought wrong. I would’ve pushed him away if I wasn’t screwed up right now.”

She grit her teeth in irritation, grasping the white-rocked stone railing. Taking notice of this, the corners of your mouth only raised into an amused smile as you decided to tease her further. “Jeez Clorinde, you’re acting like you’re in love with me or something from how jealous you are-!”

“Because I am!”

She suddenly snapped, looking over at you with a hardened scowl scrunching up her face. You flinched slightly, not expecting the upfront and straightforward expression. Clorinde took a moment to herself, hissing out a frustrated sigh to compose herself as she pinched her nose.

“Hold on. You love me..?” You began with a perplexed look written all over you, slowly pointing your finger toward yourself as if you were trying to affirm that it was in fact you. She let out a sigh of resignation, finally being able to meet your eyes as she took your hands in hers. The breeze swayed her deep purple hair along her face, making her look absolutely breathtaking as her violet eyes softened. Her hold on your palms grew firm, yet tender as she murmured out.

“I do. I don’t know how long I’ve felt like this toward you, (Name). But I do love you.”

The words fell from her lips in a velvety voice that echoed in your mind, making you take a moment to process the sweet statement Clorinde had just uttered. It took a moment to collect yourself. Your face was still bright red, but you weren’t sure it was still from the alcohol now.

“Ugh..why didn’t you just tell me?! I love you too, Clorinde..” you scoffed. Unbelievable. There’s no way she hid this from you for so long. “And I’m not just saying that. The guy was ugly anyway.”

A soft chuckle escaped Clorinde, making her finally smile as her face was dusted with a soft hue of red as well. Without hesitation, her breath fanned against your cheek as she leaned in, dangerously close to your face. Unlike with that odd man in the crowd, you didn’t back away from Clorinde’s touch. Instead, you only leaned in, eyes fluttering shut as you felt the warm embrace of her breath hitting your flushed skin.

Your eyes shot open as she pecked a quick kiss to the corner of your lip, a slightly skeptical look crossing your features as you expected more.

“In what way was that fair-?” You huffed, only causing Clorinde to stifle an amused laugh in reply. “Maybe when we get home, love.” She affirmed, making your mind race for a brief moment at her promise. You giggled and cupped her cheeks as her nose brushed against yours, closing your eyes in bliss as the wind delivered a relaxing cold breeze. You sighed softly, pulling away as you straightened your ruffled clothing and hair and took Clorinde’s hand in yours. Both of your gentle expressions harbored a palpable romantic atmosphere between the two of you, the looks on the two of you being equivalent to whispering sweet nothings.

You hummed to yourself as Clorinde brought your hand up, pressing a soft kiss upon your rigid knuckles.

“Let’s just go home, yeah?”

A/N: IM SORRY IT WASNT EXACTLU WHAT YOU REQUESTED I READ IT WRONG also my hair is so oily rn I need to wash it

[da-shrimping-station]

Feast

Beelzebub x Reader

minors DNI or im busting your kneecaps 💚

suggestive content | bondage | a bit of food play | inspired by that Beel art from the Komiket interactive display | honestly idk what else to add

bare minimum editing/proofreading | english is not my first language

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You felt like the luckiest bastard in Hell right now.

There was an entire buffet laid out in the room. Plates upon plates of mouth watering dishes that would make anyone stuff themselves full. Drinks of every kind in pretty bottles and glasses. Fine cutlery and dining ware laid out on white sheets, waiting for you to sit down and glut yourself until you burst. Despite the smells wafting into your nose and the generous portions catching your eye, you head straight to the main course.

It was a sight that made you drool the second you saw it. It wasn't just the bare torso or the ribbons or the bottle of expensive champagne tucked into his pants. It was the fact that the King of Gluttony was propped up on a pedestal, eyes blazing and teeth gnawing at the bit and squirming to be let free. Suddenly, the buffet might as well be bland gruel in comparison.

Bright green eyes zeroed in on you as you stepped closer. He struggled even more, muffled noises growing more insistent, but the ribbons held.

Your hand reached out to cup his cheek. You squished it a little then scratched at the strips of cloth that served as his gag.

"You look very delectable, your Highness."

"Mmhff-!"

He sounded mad. Or maybe excited. Either way, it didn't stop you from feeling him up.

You pinched and groped, tan skin soft and muscles firm. One hand scratched red lines into his side while the other thumbed at his pierced nipple. The bright pink strips of cloth was a nice contrast to his rich oche skin. Your nails dug deeper, your grip turned bruising.

Groaning, Beelzebub writhed, tugging at the restraints even more. His flushed cheeks gave away how he really felt. More muffled noises came from his throat and you think he was telling you something. You had stepped back to admire your work with a pleased smile.

You've only had your hands on him and he already looked winded. Your eyes landed on the bottle at his crotch.

You deliberately ignored the bulge in his pants as you gently pried the liquor from his waistband. Your hunch was right. It was a bottle of champagne from Tartaros. The foil on the label shone nicely under the lights.

Beelzebub glared at you as you popped the cork off. The flush on his face was dying down now that you've stopped your ministrations but his erection persisted still. You took a whiff of the drink. It smelled sweet and citrusy. You know this bottle costs more than your own soul given its origin and you wanted to enjoy it to the fullest.

Your eyes shifted from the bottle to the bound King beside you. An idea pops up and you smirk. 

The king of gluttony watches you like a hawk as you step into his space again. 

Without hesitation, you poured champagne on his lips. You watched, mesmerized as the golden liquid dribbled from his chin and down his neck. Smaller rivulets trailed down his pecs and abs, eventually soaking the waistband of his underwear. You had to stop yourself before wasting the entire bottle.

The pink ribbons over his mouth were soaked and you think he's trying to get a taste with how his throat bobbed. He glared at you. You can't pinpoint why he's upset so you laughed it off.

Your hands grabbed him by the jaw, tilting his head and kissing him. It was awkward with the gag and the angle but the taste of the champagne and the feel of his lips on yours egged you on. He groaned, trying to better reciprocate the act.

Breaking the kiss, you poured champagne over him again, this time onto his torso. 

Beelzebub growled. The sound sent shivers down your spine and you licked and bit at his collarbone to appease him. He growled again, less aggravated this time. You took it as a sign.

You continued to appease him with your mouth and tongue, cleaning up the trail of liquor on his torso. From his chest, down towards his stomach. You even went so far as to kneel to nip at the V of his hips, toying with the pink bow right next to his bulging arousal.

You made sure to leave marks as you went, adding to the ones you made earlier. You left hickeys and bruises over his tattoos and bite marks over the bare patches of skin. All the while he bucked and groaned, hips jerking whenever you touched a sensitive spot.

During all of this, the delicate pink ribbons did their job of keeping him in place. A part of you was concerned that the binds would snap. Whatever magic they were imbued with was pretty damn strong.

His highness was looking down at you, eyes glowing with lust and frustration. You shuddered, enjoying the way he looked at you while you were on your knees.

You could suck him off. His cock was right there in front of you, just about ready to burst from the looks of it. The tempting thought made you lick your lips. With him tied up, you had free reign to do as you please without so much as a peep from him.

He must've sensed your lewd intention, swaying his hips towards you as some sort of invitation. An urgent moan rumbled from his throat.

You bit your lip, weighing your options for a moment.

"Thank you for the treat, your highness," you said with a smirk. Then you got up and walked away, half empty champagne bottle in hand.

Incensed noises followed after your footsteps as you left. You knew for a fact that you can't handle the king of Abyssos on your own. He was a force to be reckoned with, whether he's fighting or fucking. And you were someone simple who lived by the rule of not biting off more than you can chew.

The bottle of liquor was more than enough of a prize. There was still enough for a glass or two to indulge in. 

You were close to the exit, oozing with satisfaction as you walked past the buffet tables. The door was just a few meters away when–

Snap!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A/N 🦐

eeyyyyy dont come after me i wrote this all in one sitting cuz that one Beel card wont get out of my head

i was gonna have the reader give him head but my skills aren't up to par so he gets blueballed instead lmaoooo i bet he would've wanted the reader to be a glutton and choke on his cock but where's the fun in that amirite

him bending the reader over one of the tables while he rails them and finishes the rest of the champagne is a nice image imo

thanks for reading!

[skywalker1dream]

Title: A Day to Remember

note: emotional day yesterday ufff charles monaco win im so happy, i was crying yesterday, family podium with uncle chili. hope you like it. hope you are having good day or night, drink water and eat healthy. btw i used google translate..

charles leclerc x reader

Summary: Charles Leclerc has just won the Monaco Grand Prix, a dream come true for the Monegasque driver. As his long-time partner, you share in his triumph, and the two of you celebrate his victory with an unforgettable night in Monaco, culminating in a life-changing proposal.

Warnings: Fluff, mild suggestive content, celebration, alcohol use, proposal, explicit sexual content

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

The roar of the crowd was deafening as Charles Leclerc crossed the finish line, securing his first-ever win at the Monaco Grand Prix. You stood in the VIP section, your heart pounding with pride and excitement. Charles had dreamed of this moment since he was a child, and now it was finally real.

As he stepped out of his Ferrari, the cheers grew even louder. His face lit up with pure joy as he waved to the fans, then turned and ran towards you. You barely had time to react before he swept you into his arms, spinning you around.

"We did it!" he exclaimed, his voice full of emotion.

"You did it," you corrected, kissing him deeply. "I'm so proud of you, Charles."

The celebrations began immediately. Charles was whisked away for interviews and the podium ceremony, but you stayed close, your eyes never leaving him. The champagne spray, the trophy lift, the national anthem, it was all a blur of euphoria.

Later, as the sun set over the Mediterranean, the real celebration began. You and Charles had decided to host a private party at the prestigious Monte Carlo Beach Hotel. The terrace was beautifully decorated with twinkling fairy lights, and the gentle sound of the waves provided a serene backdrop.

"To Charles!" someone toasted, and everyone raised their glasses.

"To my amazing team," Charles responded, his arm around your waist. "And to my incredible partner, who has supported me through everything."

The party was in full swing, with friends, family, and teammates mingling, dancing, and enjoying the lavish spread of food and drinks. But amidst the celebration, Charles only had eyes for you.

"Let's get out of here for a bit," he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You nodded, and he led you down a private path to the beach. The cool sand felt wonderful under your feet as you walked hand in hand, away from the noise and excitement.

Charles stopped suddenly, turning to face you. "I still can't believe it," he said, his voice filled with wonder. "Winning Monaco… it's everything I've ever wanted."

"You deserve it, Charles," you replied, cupping his face in your hands. "You've worked so hard for this moment."

He smiled, pulling you closer. "And I couldn't have done it without you." His lips met yours in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. The world seemed to disappear as you lost yourself in the feel of him, the taste of him.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathless. Charles rested his forehead against yours, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "I love you," he said softly.

"I love you too, Charles," you whispered back.

You spent the next few hours on the beach, talking, laughing, and simply enjoying each other's company. It was a perfect night, one that neither of you would ever forget.

As the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, Charles stood up, pulling you to your feet. "Come on," he said with a grin. "I have one more surprise for you."

He led you back to the hotel, where a private suite awaited. Inside, a bottle of vintage champagne was chilling, and the room was filled with roses. Charles opened the French doors to the balcony, where a table was set up with candles and a view of the sunrise over the Mediterranean.

"Wait here," he said, his eyes twinkling with excitement. He disappeared into the suite for a moment, then returned with a small, velvet box in his hand.

He took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly as he knelt down on one knee. "I've been planning this for a long time," he began, his voice full of emotion. "Ever since I met you, my life has been filled with so much joy and love. You've been my rock, my biggest supporter, and my best friend. I can't imagine my life without you."

Tears filled your eyes as you looked at him, your heart swelling with love.

"Today was a dream come true for me," he continued, "but it's nothing compared to the dream of spending the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me, ma chérie?"

He opened the box to reveal a stunning diamond ring, its facets catching the first rays of the morning sun.

You gasped, your hands covering your mouth as tears streamed down your cheeks. "Yes, Charles," you whispered, your voice shaking with emotion. "Yes, I will marry you!"

He slipped the ring onto your finger and stood up, pulling you into his arms. The kiss you shared was filled with love and promise, the perfect end to a perfect night.

But Charles wasn't done yet. He swept you off your feet and carried you into the suite, kicking the door shut behind him. He set you down gently on the bed, his eyes darkening with desire as he looked at you.

"I want to show you just how much I love you," he murmured, his hands trailing over your body.

You shivered under his touch, your skin tingling with anticipation. "Charles…"

He silenced you with a kiss, his lips moving against yours with a passion that took your breath away. His hands were everywhere, sliding under your clothes, caressing your bare skin. You moaned, arching into him, desperate for more.

Charles took his time, undressing you with a reverence that made you feel cherished and adored. When you were finally bare before him, he paused, his eyes raking over you with undisguised lust.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I can't believe you're mine."

You reached up, pulling him down to you. "Show me," you said, your voice trembling with need.

He needed no further encouragement. His hands and mouth were relentless, driving you to the edge of ecstasy again and again. Each touch, each kiss, was a testament to his love and desire for you.

When he finally entered you, it was slow and deliberate, a claiming that left you both breathless. You moved together, your bodies perfectly in sync, building towards a climax that left you shattering in his arms.

As you lay in the aftermath, tangled in the sheets and each other, Charles kissed you softly. "I love you, Mon ange" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

"I love you too," you replied, your voice filled with contentment.

You spent the rest of the morning wrapped up in each other, making love as the sun rose over Monaco. It was a celebration of not just his victory, but of your love and the future you would build together.

As you lay in his arms, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, you knew that this was just the beginning. Charles' win in Monaco was a dream come true, but it was also the start of many more incredible moments to come.

And you couldn't wait to share them all with him.

[stinkywritin]

Late Night Devil

Lee Heeseung x male reader

Short synopsis: You catch a glimpse of the mysterious figure and your life’s forever changed��

…a nice way of saying gay vampire Heeseung brain rot

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, essentially PWP, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), top!Heeseung, bottom!male reader, oral (reader receiving), biting kink, praise kink, FILTH IM SORRY

Title from song Teeth by 5 Seconds of Summer

(a reupload a my favorite fic from my old blog)

You felt eyes on you ever since you arrived at the party.

Ever since you walked through the front doors with your mother and father, you felt as though you were being watched. No matter how many times you turned around and checked, there wasn’t anyone looking.

Not until you got to the banquet hall.

Everything was draped in luxurious red cloth, the high ceilings connected to a glass dome which allowed the guests a full view of the starry night sky. The tables adorned with the finest tablecloths and expensive tableware you felt nervous picking up for fear of breaking it, the near overwhelming amount of candlelight contrasting the darkness of the night. The dark wooden chairs complimented the equally as dark tables, the ballroom devoid of all color except for the hints of burgundy.

You continued to feel watched over even as you slid down onto one of the chairs next to your mother, your black coat draped over the back of the chair as you fiddled with the silver rings on your hand. One of the rings on your finger was etched with your family crest, handed down from your father once you became of adult age and joined your father’s oil business. Light organ notes danced in the air as the chatter amongst guests grew louder, more families arriving and filling up the tables.

“Sit up straight Y/N!” Your mother scorned you, her previous lecture of maintaining the family image still ringing in your ears. Her voice sounded strained through the tight corset, you were pretty sure her internal organs were all smushed together. A tight lipped smile stretched on her face as she looked around the banquet hall, many other families and members of higher society. Politicians, heirs to fortunes, royal family members, everyone who had more money than they knew what to do with.

Through your father’s business, your family was ranked fairly high on the social status, no where near the level of royalty but definitely a name with notoriety. You being the eldest son meant you’re the child who received the burden of continuing you family’s legacy, expected to not only further your business’s success but to also hand it down to another son. Either this or marry into an even richer family but you were never interested in any of the female suitors your father brought to you, denying any advance before retreating into your studies.

Your father suddenly beckoned you to his side across the hall, champagne glass in hand along with the most manufactured smile while speaking to other men with the same expressions. Your face was devoid of any emotion as you walked to join his side, the light tapping of your shoes on the banquet hall tile was drowned out by the band in the corner.

It’s not that you didn’t like your father, quite frankly you didn’t know enough about him in order to form a sold opinion about him. You’d seen his multimillion dollar company run so many small villages into the ground, clearing out acres of land for hopes of even drilling a single drop of oil. You heard the protests of the people in your country, pleading for companies to stop their mindless destruction of land but like all the other companies, your father didn’t listen. You had no intention of continuing the family business, hoping that maybe one of your siblings would take it over or that you could personally destroy it from the inside out. Plans to escape the damned family business flooded your mind as you stood next to your father, stone faced as he bragged to a distant colleague about whatever bullshit rich old men brag about.

It was during a conversation about coal plants that you saw him for the first time.

Your eyes mindlessly moved along the grand staircase, up along the marbled railing of the balcony, before spotting him alone with his hands folded along the railing. Eyes instantly meeting yours.

His skin was perfectly smoothed and sculpted, his appearance statuesque as he held strong eye contact with you. The darkness in his eyes matched the slant in his grin, a devious smirk was on his lips as his eyes raked you in, seemingly drawing you closer to him. The dark strands on his head complimented the dark velvet coat on his shoulders, the ruffles of his white shirt peaking forward elegantly.

“Y/N what do you think?” Your father’s voice interrupted your speechless encounter with the brunette, ripping your eyes from the beauty before you to bring you back to Earth. Dante himself wouldn’t be able to fully capture the beauty of the man you laid your eyes on, his descriptions of heaven coming second to the allure of the man who captured your attention.

“Sorry come again?” You replied haphazardly, already tuning out the conversation before you look back up to the gorgeous creature from before. Only in the mere seconds you looked away, he had vanished. Your bewildered eyes searched all over the balcony for him, refusing to believe he was a figment of your imagination.

“Sorry gentlemen please excuse me one moment” you politely moved away from the men, leaving behind a group of insulted men and your angry father. Your heart rate picked up as you began your search for the man from earlier, refusing to let him leave your life as quickly as he had entered.

Your footsteps echoed in the hallways of the palace, the tiled floor ways leading to multiple different rooms. You came across a portrait in a hallway far from the banquet hall, the frame picturing a family with an only child. A son whose eyes seemed to bore into your sole, the faces of the parents had been scratched out, the colors worn pale from age.

“Such a shame isn’t it?” A rich, melancholic voice startled you from your spot before the portrait, the handsome stranger from before suddenly appearing behind you. You hadn’t heard his footsteps, nor any other indication he was near you. “The colors were much more divine when the portrait was freshly made.”

“When was it painted?” You asked the stranger, his smile was playful as his eyes shifted from you to the painting.

His hands were folded behind his lower back as he spoke up, “I stopped counting after the third century.”

Well fuck. Even though everything about that response screamed ‘don’t come near me I’m dangerous,’ something about the way his eyes flatly observed the portrait before you pulled you in for more.

“Do you know the family?” You asked, your voice wavering as you continued to take in his appearance. The man before you seemed to have discarded his coat, the silk of his white shirt now on full display. There wasn’t a single wrinkle, every fold was pressed neatly on his body. If elegance was a person it truly would be him.

“Do you always stutter when asking questions?” His eyes quickly turned to make eye contact with you, a playful slant adorned his lips at his teasing. You couldn’t help the rush of heat to your face, hopefully he couldn’t see the blush on your face but judging by how his smile grew, it was evident he saw it.

“I guess only when I’m talking to pretty people” you shrugged, your eyes traveling away from his to study the portrait once again. The scratch marks on the faces of the parents tore through the canvas, making it obvious someone took a knife to the portrait. Although the colors were muted, you didn’t doubt that the robes and silks worn by the parents were more expensive than your father’s entire company. Then there was the little boy. He looked no more than 6 years of age, cheeks puffed and eyes full of childlike wonder, his face was the only one still remaining on the portrait.

“You can do better than juvenile pick up lines” the man scoffed, your eyes snapping back to him just in time to see him stifle a laugh. “This isn’t a school courtyard.”

You let out a chuckle, already cringing on your cheesy one liner. “I apologize for that sir but I don’t apologize for the pretty laugh it let me hear from you.” Now it was his turn to blush.

It was the chiming of the bells from the clock tower that erased the relaxed feeling between you two.

“Excuse me sir L/N but I’m afraid that’s my queue to leave.” As he started to turn on his heal away from you, a tight feeling within you snapped and you reached out to grab his wrist. Immediately you felt his ice cold skin on your hand, his face contorted in shock as he looked back to you. “What are you-“

“How did you know my last name?” You interrupt him, his furrowed brows softening on his face.

“Seeing as how I made the guest list I’m well acquainted with your family Y/N” his cheeky grin was back, his wrist still in your grasp. You relaxed your hold to let him escape but instead he took another step closer towards you.

“You’re part of the Lee family?” You questioned, even if you already knew the answer. The Lee family was one of the wealthiest royal families in the country, owning a luxurious castle away from all the surrounding villages. Your father said they were weird and antisocial but seeing as how they donated to many charities and political campaigns in the villages, they were immensely powerful. No one from the Lee family held any political or government position in centuries but that didn’t mean they weren’t pulling the strings from afar.

“And you still don’t seem to know my name?” His spunky grin broke you from your deep thoughts. You were face to face with a member of one of the most powerful families in the country, your father’s complaints of their wealth ringing in your ears.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I just didn’t think I’d ever meet someone from your family.” You honestly stated, barely noticing just how close he was to you. Your noses were mere inches apart, a strong enough breeze would’ve been able to bring you two together

“Heeseung.” His voice was slightly above a whisper before he continued, “my name is Lee Heeseung.”

Before your brain could talk you out of it, you took his hand in yours before bringing the back of his palm up to your mouth. You have a slight bow as you pressed a feather like kiss to his ice cold skin, you knew he still had that damn smirk on his face even if your eyes were closed. “It’s an honor to meet you Heeseung, I’m F/N L/N of the L/N family.”

“I’m aware” he snatched his hand back, although the grin was still plastered on his face. “This is my home after all.”

Before turning around to leave, he added “Meet me back here at midnight.” It wasn’t a question, more of an order, but you wouldn’t have refused either way.

“I’ll be waiting.” You gave one more curt bow, at which he scoffed and walked away from you. You noticed he wasn’t walking back in the direction of the banquet hall, in fact he was going in the opposite direction.

You turned back towards the portrait before you and as you looked at the boy in the painting again you felt a heavy weight in the pit of your chest. You could suddenly recognize the boy being Heeseung, a smiling young Heeseung. And suddenly the remark of the painting being more than three centuries old made that weight in your chest even heavier.

——

True to your word you returned to your unofficial meeting spot.

It was a pain in the ass trying to shake off your parent’s prying eyes and overwhelming amount of questions. You hid the fact that you had met — and flirted — with Lee Heeseung from both of your parents, you knew they would demand that you introduced them to him so you made up a lie about getting lost trying to find a bathroom. Seeing your parents fake smiles and having to endure a terrible sales pitch from your father was a special kind of hell that you didn’t want Heeseung to experience. Thankfully they believed your lie and didn’t press any further, leaving you alone for the rest of the evening.

It was a little before midnight, right when you were about to leave to see Heeseung again, that you spoke to your mother. You told her you would stay behind for a little while longer and that they should leave without you, that you’d call a cab later and meet them back at the house. She seemed hesitant to leave you, wanting to know why you would be staying behind but in the end she hesitantly left with your father.

“Just promise you’ll be back in the morning?” She pleaded, cradling your face in the palms of her hands. “Or at least call me in the morning to let me know you’re still alive?”

“Yes mother don’t worry I’ll let you know everything” you offered her a wide grin as she pulled back, the clicks of her heels hitting the tiled floor growing quieter. Once she had gotten in the car with your father, you turned and quickly walked back to the hallway from earlier that evening.

—-

The corridors were empty, only the sound of your hurried footsteps could be heard echoing off the walls. The painting was still just as magnificent as it was earlier in the evening, except as you footsteps took you close to it, you could feel that familiar weight in your chest again. The breaths picked up as you eyed the portrait again, this time feeling as though it was pulling you in.

“You came back” the same honey voice startled you, Heeseung suddenly appearing next to you. He grinned at your attempts to catch your breath, your eyes still wide from the scare he gave you.

“Of course” you huffed out, composing yourself by straightening your back to look him in the eye. “I had some questions.”

Heeseung quirked his head to the side while his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, the smile still plastered in his face. “Questions?” He paused, you gave a shaky nod in reply. “Alright well, ask away.”

“Is that you?” You pointed to the little boy in the portrait, his goddamn grin was making it ten times harder for you to focus on trying to make sense of him.

“Yes that’s me.” Heeseung flatly responded, his eyes traveling to look at the portrait. “I think that was my sixth birthday if I can recall correctly.”

“And you said this was made over three centuries ago correct?” Your voice was wavering, your whole body feeling heavy with anxiety and dread. “How old are you?”

“Y/N don’t you know it’s considered rude to ask someone their age when you first meet?” Heeseung’s met with yours again, seemingly able to bore holes into your brain. As if he could sense the panic coursing through your veins, he sighed before answering “I can’t remember how old I am or how many years are passing by, they all seem to blur together and over time I found it’s easier to not count my age anymore.”

Heeseung’s entire demeanor changed; he was no longer carrying himself with a high level of confidence, instead of the usual cockiness there was a melancholic tone to his voice as he longingly stared at the portrait.

He continued, “I was normal just like you, just human. Until at age 20 I was turned into this by my lover. He turned me into this so that we could be together for all of eternity but shortly after I turned he was killed by some hunters from a village up north. I was 20, a freshly turned vampire and completely estranged by my family for choosing a male lover.” He clutched something in his hand, turning it over before he took a seat on the tiled floor. His back was pressed against the dark walls as he beckoned you to sit next to him.

Once you were sat next to him, your hands making contact with the cold tiles of the floor as your back rested against the wall, you could see a small locket in his hands. The metal was scuffed and old, showing signs of years of use.

“This family,” Heeseung continued. “It’s made up of vampires from all over the country who are just like me. No family to turn to, no friends and partners to depend on, nothing. The Lee family took me in, no questions asked and I’ve been here since. And while the banquets and parties have been quite distracting, I still haven’t been able to find anyone to grow closer to, not since I died and became this.”

A fresh tear had escaped from Heeseung’s eye, it traveled down his cheek until hitting the floor, the man not bothering to wipe it away.

“I’m sorry Heeseung” you shakily whispered, hoping your voice was loud enough to be heard by the vampire next to you. The weight you had felt in your chest earlier — the intense panic over what creature Heeseung was and whether or not he was dangerous — had started dissipating at his words. Not entirely however, and it seemed Heeseung could still sense the remaining anxieties.

“Don’t apologize I haven’t even answered your question yet,” Heeseung wiped the remains of his tears off of his cheek while letting out a small — forced — chuckle. You were forced to go to banquets and business meetings and a bunch of other gatherings of snobby rich people, you were used to fake smiles and even faker laughs; however Heeseung’s was the most heartbreaking of all.

“As for age all I can say for sure is that I’ve been a vampire for a little over 400 years,” Heesung’s fingers messed with the locket in his hand as he spoke. “Anything else you’d like to ask Mr. L/N”

Heeseung had cocked his head to look at you, his eyes instantly letting yours. Sitting beside you was a supposed ‘creature of the undead’, something that up until recently you believed to be fake and the material for fiction. And yet the way Heeseung’s smile seemed to fill your being with bliss was anything but fiction, the way he had drawn you in even if you had only met that evening was a beautiful reality.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t still have questions.

“If you say you ran away to join this family how did you get that painting?” The teasing in your tone evoked a surprised laugh from Heeseung, the atmosphere surrounding you two had lightened, no longer full of worry.

“I’ve been alive longer than your great grandparents don’t question how I get stuff brat” Heeseung playfully pinched your shoulder, sending you two into a lighthearted scuffle that ended with Heeseung’s thighs straddling your lower torso.

“Ok I yield!” You huffed out between fits of laughter. As your chest rose and fell from your attempts to catch your breath, you could suddenly feel how close Heesung was. His hands held your wrists to the floor, his upper body draped over yours. “Okay one last question.”

“Ugh enough with the questions!” Heeseung chuckled out. After seeing the pleading look in your eyes he nodded his head, telling you it was okay to ask what was on your mind.

“Why did you ask me to come back here at midnight?” You asked, the underlying tone of your question being ‘are you going to kill me because I would please like to know in advance’.

“Is my interest in you not obvious enough?” Heeseung softly replied, grin widening when he sees the blush rise to your face. The hands that were on your wrists were now interlocking with yours, his hands delicately squeezing yours as he rested his forehead atop yours. “And here I was thinking you were also interested.”

“I am!” You helped out, causing a fit of giggles to erupt from Heeseung at your eagerness.

Heeseung’s hands were still interlocked with yours as he calmed down, his face still so close to yours. The way his eyes were sparkling with joy made the weight dissipate completely. Heeseung’s faced leaned impossibly closer to yours, his lips mere centimeters away from yours. “You’re so gorgeous the second I saw you I knew I had to talk to you. I knew I would miss the rest of the banquet because I had some business to take care of with another town’s mayor. Corrupt politicians and what not, such a pain to clean blood stains on carpets by the way.” Heeseung rolled his eyes at his comment, you could feel your heart rate pick up at the way his eyes flicked between your eyes and your lips.

“But I knew I had to see you again which is why I asked you to meet me here.” You felt your dick twitch at his words, the smirk playing on his lips was evidence he felt it too.

He started to slowly — so achingly slowly — roll his hips over your bulge. “The entire job I pleaded with the universe to let me see you again, all I could think about was how gorgeous you are Y/N.”

“Heeseung” you panted out, the fabric around your cock getting tighter. “Please kiss me.”

“Absolutely my love” Heeseung’s lips slotted perfectly with yours, your body heat felt as though it rose an extra 30 degrees. The way his lips fit with yours felt like an explosion of pure bliss, immediately opening your mouth to let his tongue in. The way Heeseung kissed you as if he was planning on devouring you made your head spin.

It could’ve been 30 seconds or 3 years but the kiss felt of pure heaven. No amount of time would ever be enough to fully satisfy the need you felt for each other, you thought this as Heeseung’s hip rolls began getting faster. After a particularly loud moan escaped your lips, Heeseung murmured into your ear, “Let me take you to bed my beauty.”

You eagerly nodded as he lifted you both up on your feet, leading you to his bedroom door while having his hand interlaced with yours. You two couldn’t help the giggles or the chaste kisses while you ran to his room.

—-

“Lie on your back for me sweetheart” Heeseung’s voice has seemed to drop a few octaves, sounding huskier as he pushed you back onto his silk sheets and started undoing the buttons on his shirt.

You quickly undid the laces of your boots, chucking them across the room before fumbling with the buttons on your shirt. You huffed in annoyance as you had difficulty getting your shirt off, Heeseung — who was now shirtless — took notice of your frustration and let out a low chuckle. His hands clasped yours as he placed them on you, slowly moving your hands down onto the bed before eagerly grabbing the collar of your blouse and tearing the fabric open. You gasped at the sound of the fabric ripping but quickly began to let out a deep groan as Heeseung began placing soft kisses down your chest. His lips were ice cold, making goosebumps rise all over your body from the drastic shift in temperature.

“There’s no time for slowly unbuttoning clothing” Heesung whispered into the skin on your sternum. His eyes switched back up to meet yours, the look of pure lust painting his eyes, “I want you now.”

“Then take me.” You gasped as Heeseung pushed your upper body down onto his bed, grabbing your hips and quickly pulling down your trousers and underwear, leaving you bare under him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him close to you to bring him into another heated kiss. You felt the fabric of his pants on your cock as he began to grind his clothed bulge onto yours. The friction causing you to bite at his lower lip, your fingernails scratching onto the skin on his shoulders. One of his hands moved to graze over your bulge, the cold skin causing a shiver to run up your spine.

Heeseung continued to kiss and bite at the skin on your jawline as he wrapped a hand around your cock, giving it a harsh but arousing tug. “Knew you would sound heavenly darling” Heeseung said into your ear, the strokes of his hand becoming more even. “Knew it the second I laid my eyes on you.”

“Heeseung-“ you were cut off by your own whine as Heesung sharply removed his hand to slap your thigh.

“That’s hyung to you brat” Heeseung gave your thigh another harsh smack before bringing two fingers up to your lips. The pads of his icy fingertips grazing along your lower lip so slightly you could barely feel it. “Now open up.”

You opened your mouth to let his fingers dance along your tongue, wrapping your lips around his fingers and sighing. Heeseung’s eyes were fixated on the sight of you sucking on his fingers, his cock growing harder. He pulled his fingers out from your mouth before sliding them over your tight hole, inserting one finger in as you gasped in surprise. His fingers were still so, so cold, causing you to shiver again.

He slowly worked his finger in and out of your hole, teasing his second one before pushing them both in and stretching you open. As his fingers worked to stretch you open, Heeseung licked a stripe from your thigh to the base of your cock. You let out a loud yelp as he licked up the length of your cock, your hands flying to yank at the dark locks on his head. “Oh hyung that feels so good” you moaned out, your eyes squeezing shut from the overwhelming waves of pleasure that were washing over your body.

His fingers quickened their pace as Heeseung’s dark eyes looked up at you, he whispered with the head of your cock pressed against his bottom lip, “cum in my mouth gorgeous.” Heeseung’s mouth took you in, warmth engulfing your entire body as you cried out in pleasure. You could feel the pleasure overcoming you, making your brain foggy as all your senses were being overwhelmed.

All of a sudden the coil in you snapped, you came down his throat as he eagerly swallowed every drop you let out. Even as you came down from the intense feeling, his fingers were still working you open — albeit at a slower pace. When his fingers grazed your prostate you shivered while your thighs began to shake, throwing Heeseung a confused gaze.

“You didn’t think we were done did you?” His smirk causing your thoughts to muddle, he abruptly removed his fingers before smacking your thigh again. “Sit up now darling I haven’t gotten my fix yet.”

He laid back against the dark wood of his bedpost, a pillow separating his lower back from the wood. He removed his pants and underwear before turning to you and patting his thigh, beckoning you over. You let out a small chuckle, your post orgasm brain somehow finding the cheesiness of it all a little amusing.

Heeseung tilted his head in confusion as you crawled over, placing his hands on your hips before saying, “why are you laughing, darling?” He pulled you down to sit on his lower torso, his cock nestled between your cheeks which caused the blush on your face to deepen in slight embarrassment.

“You’re so cute” you placed an innocent peck on his lips, Heeseung gave you what felt like a hundred more as a response. He held you close as the grin on his face grew larger, both of your giggles breaking the kisses. As you both calmed down from your giggling fit, the eye contact you held began intensifying. Heeseung’s eyes seemed to hold all the stars in the night sky with the way they sparkled up at you, the light blush on his face deepening as you held him close.

His hand ran through the hair on the nape of your neck, his wide eyes and large grin seemed to distract you from the fact that you were both completely bare. His finger started to drag from the bottom of your ear down the slope of your neck before whispering, “Can I bite you darling?”

You could feel your soft length grow interested at his question, your eyes widened as they filled with curiosity. “You want to turn me?” Your question made the vampire look up at you, an unreadable look in his eyes.

“I don’t have to turn you.” Heeseung started, his cold hands tightening their grip on your skin. “I can feed from you and as long as I don’t take too much you’ll still be alive and, well, human.”

When the word ‘feeding’ fell from the man’s lips, you suddenly remembered the man — the vampire — below you could very easily kill you in two ways; by either draining all the blood from your body or turning you into an undead creature for the rest of eternity.

“I’ve been alive a long time Y/N” Heeseung’s voice bringing you back to the present. He continued, “I can control my appetite, I will not take more than you can handle and I will stop if you tell me to. You have my word darling.”

Instead of giving him a verbal response, you tilt your head to the side to give him full access to your neck and collarbones and nodded. Heeseung’s hands roughly pulled your hips up, aligning his length with your entrance before pulling you back down to sit on his lap. Your body shivered at the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins, the head of Heeseung’s cock was pressing against your g spot, leaving you full.

As you tried moving your hips, Heeseung would stop your movements to slam you back down onto his lap. His hands moved from your hips further down to hold your ass, his tongue licking over a spot on the crook of your neck. Your neglected length had been interested even after already orgasming once, however all pleasure before this failed in comparison to the feeling of Heeseung’s fangs piercing into your skin. His hips moved achingly slowly as he sunk his teeth into your neck, your grip on him tightening. Even if you had only met Heeseung that night you already knew he had ruined sex with anyone else in the future, it would be only him for the rest of your existence.

Heeseung’s hips kept a slow pace, his soft groan was muffled while he fed from your neck. The intense pleasure coming from Heeseung’s movements juxtaposed the sharp pain on your neck, your post orgasm brain becoming even muddier. You felt Heeseung remove his fangs from your neck, placing kisses on the marks left behind while his hips picked up a faster pace. The sounds of your bodies moving together echoed throughout the room, your pants being interrupted by Heeseung’s voice in your ear giving you encouragements.

“There you go, that’s my good boy.”

“Knew I had to have you the second I laid my eyes on you.”

“Darling you tasted so good, did so well for me.”

“Be as loud as you can for me Y/N, don’t hold back.”

The familiar sensation from earlier came back, this time magnified by ten. You could feel your muscles tightening as you reached your climax, your grip on Heeseung’s shoulders becoming more tense.

“Hyung I’m close,” you whined out. His thrusts were precise and fast, aiming and nailing your g spot head on every time.

“How cute,” Heeseung’s low voice went straight to your hard cock, his hand wrapping around your length and stroking in tandem with his hips. He continued, “My good boy wants to cum for me a second time. Make a mess for me sweet boy, I’m right there with you.”

You reached a moment of euphoria, your entire body tightening up before you came all over Heeseung’s hand. You felt Heeseung reach his high because his thrusts stilled, his grip on your body tightened before he went slack. Your body slumped into his as you now began trying to catch your breath. You heard Heeseung let out a giggle as he held up your tired body.

“Nope you’re not getting off that easy.” Heeseung quickly flipped you onto your back below him, the speed shaking you awake. His body was bent over yours, he brought one of his hands up to your mouth and put his palm to your lips. It was the palm that was covered in your release, “lick it off baby, you’re helping me clean up.”

You quickly licked your release off his hand, holding eye contact with him the entire time so you could see his proud smirk. His lips graced yours once you finished, your entire body slugging back into the sheets below you. “I’ll be right back baby.”

Your eyelids felt heavy while you watched him get off his bed, making his way across the room while nude which gave you a shameless view of his body.

He returned momentarily with some bandaids, along with a glass of water. “Sit up for me darling,” he said as he sat down next to you, putting the glass of water into your hands once you were up right. You lazily drank from the cup as Heeseung applied the bandaids to the wounds on your neck. “It’s not too bad but better safe than sorry.”

It seemed the vampire’s entire demeanor had changed, his touches soft on your skin as he took your now empty cup and placed it elsewhere. He laid back next to you, pulling the covers over your bodies before pulling you closer to him. “How do you have so much energy?” You grumbled, looking up at the vampire to see his bright smile.

“I don’t get tired,” Heeseung’s hand carded through your hair and scratched your scalp as he started talking, making it very difficult to stay awake. He continued, “It’s that vampire stamina, I don’t need sleep or rest. I don’t eat food either, well besides blood but it doesn’t have to be human. I physically can sleep, I just don’t need it to function so it’s basically just a nap.”

“Does that mean you can go another round?” Your hand had been lazily tracing patterns onto the vampire’s cold skin, slowly moving down his torso. Your body was still sluggish from your two orgasms but seeing the devious glint in Heeseung’s eyes was lighting a flame to your body.

“I don’t think you can keep up with me baby” Heeseung roughly pulled the (H/C) strands on the back of your head, pulling you up to make direct eye contact with him. “But if you insist.”

His teeth grazed your bottom lip, the feeling of his fangs eliciting a high pitched whine from the back of your throat; you might’ve bitten off more than you could chew.

Authors Note: Hey it’s V sorry about deleting my old blog but I’ll bring back a majority of my old fics. If you enjoyed, thank you very much !!! These are v fun to make and help me take my mind off real life stuff lmao. That’s it for now, brb folks -V

[nr1chaedickrider]

Love's gonna get you killed - we could've had it all.

Grief is the response to the loss of something deemed important, particularly to the loss of someone that has died, to which a bond or affection was formed. Although conventionally focused on the emotional response to loss, grief also has physical, cognitive, behavioral and social dimensions.

The sun shines through the large window in your room, and you rub your eyes with your hands as you slowly wake up and stretch. After getting dressed, you make your way to the dining hall where Dahyun and Tzuyu are having breakfast together.

"Good morning," Tzuyu says as you sit down next to her, leaning your walking stick against the table as a cook brings you food and you mumble a "thank you".

"How's your leg?" asks Tzuyu.

Her question gives you a twinge in your head, an uncomfortable feeling, and it's as if the event that actually happened months ago is happening right now.

You clench your teeth as Momo kisses your cheek and pulls the sword out of your thigh as you fall to the ground.

All you see is her looking down at you, tears in her eyes, and whispering an "I'm sorry", her only reply, an apology, a goodbye.

She disappears between the bushes, the last time you saw her.

"Y/n?" Tzuyu asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"My leg... it's better now, but it still hurts sometimes, but I'll start training again soon," you answer, a small smile on your lips.

"By the way, you two were a bit loud yesterday..." you add and hear Dahyun almost choke on her food, Tzuyu laughs a little.

"Sorry," she replies.

It is quiet while the three of you eat, Tzuyu interrupts the silence,

"Various people are coming to visit us tonight, we wanted to have a big party, are you coming too?" she asks, you look at her and think about it.

But just like before, you lose yourself in your thoughts and Momo is standing right in front of you.

"Come on," she says as she stands in the water, you get in, your suit wet and you can feel the goose bumps on your body from the cold.

You both look at each other, the only sound in the background is the water.

"Y/n?" says Tzuyu, "What's wrong? Are you okay?" she asks, pulling you out of your thoughts again.

"What, ah, yes. I'm coming..." you stand up, "I think Im gonna visit Jihyo..." you say, she nods and lets you go.

-

"How are you?" asks Jihyo as you sit down next to her.

"Normal, I guess," you answer and she looks at you thoughtfully.

"Jeongyeon can officially start training again, she's doing much better," Jihyo says, breaking the silence.

Jeongyeon...

Momo, who attacked Jeongyeon to get your attention.

"Good" you just say, but Jihyo knows exactly how you feel for a reason.

"You don't care about Jeongyeon as much as you do for Momo, do you?"

You look at her, somehow trying to find an explanation that makes sense, an explanation that shows that you're not thinking about Momo, that she's not that important.

"Sana is back in the kingdom," she says to change the subject, and you suddenly feel uncomfortable.

Memories of the past come flooding back, things that happened years ago.

It's like the first time you saw her, her smile that made your cheeks glow. Her hands that touched you in such a way that you completly melted in her arms, her lips that were so soft that you felt like you were kissing the softest pillow in the world.

Her way of talking that made you cry when she left.

"Why?" you ask Jihyo and she can tell immediately that you're lost in your thoughts.

"Because of Tzuyu's party, she came all the way from Japan, as queen she has to make official visits," she answers.

"Official visits..." you mutter.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"My people need me."

"I can't be seen with you."

I can't be seen with you.

"I know you're probably not ready to see her, and maybe you never will be, but at least try," Jihyo says and you nod, looking down onto your slightly trembling hands.

-

"I'm glad you all came tonight," Tzuyu says in front of all the guests at the party, a glass of champagne in her hand and in the hands of everyone else.

"I hope you enjoy tonight!" she finishes her sentence and the people applaud as a small orchestra starts playing music, people start talking to each other while some of them start dancing.

Unfortunately, the music sounds far too familiar.

"Will you dance with me?" Momo asked when you were at Dahyun's ball, just as this song started to play.

You take a deep breath and look around, then walk out of the palace and onto the terrace.

Why was every palace built by the water?

The stony shore only reminds you more of the night, even more of the evening when you felt too comfortable with Momo.

The night when Momo kissed you on the cheek.

You take a sip of your champagne, it's quite cold, you can feel it running down your throat, leaving a slight burning sensation.

But you are not alone for long, you hear the door open, you turn around and Sana is standing right in front of you.

Your eyes widen in surprise, because somehow a small - or rather larger - part of your body was hoping that Momo would be standing in front of you, that she would be here again for some reason,

A part of your body hoped that she was looking for you.

"Y/n?" says Sana.

"Sana?" you answer, a soft whisper, as if you were afraid someone might hear you, as if you weren't allowed to speak to a queen.

"Long time no see..." she says, walking to you and leaning against the stone wall, her voice so soft again that you want to cry, to take her in your arms and tell her how much you actually missed her.

But instead of saying anything, you lean against the stone wall next to her, both of you looking at the water in the distance as the sun sets.

"I heard about what happened," she says, and you don't know what exactly she's talking about.

The situation with Momo?

The attack on you that left you still unable to train properly?

The days you spent crying for Sana? Your despair?

Too many events come to mind as Sana continues,

"That thing with your leg, that knight, what was her name again-

"Momo," you answer, perhaps a little too quickly.

"Exactly, she hurt you in the fight. I hope your leg is better," a small smile appears on her lips as she finishes her sentence.

"It's gotten a lot better," you answer, drinking the last drops of your champagne. The burning sensation is back in your throat, but somehow you start liking it, a kind of burning that is somehow pleasant.

It's quiet, uncomfortable, but comfortable at the same time. Like a paradox - it's as if she has always been here, as if she never went to Japan.

"I missed you."

Sana says after a while, and it scares you somehow - you don't answer.

But Sana doesn't mind, not at all - she found your quiet way somehow relaxing. She always liked the way you listened to her without answering, because deep in her heart she knew that you somehow remembered everything, that you thought of every single detail even when she was gone.

"Whether you want to believe me or not is your decision, but I can only say that to this day I regret leaving," she says as you look at her, her eyes are slightly watery - another one of her special qualities - she gets emotional easily when she talks about her feelings.

You put your hand on hers, your thumb gently stroking her palm, a small but somehow meaningful sign for Sana. A kind of comfort.

How ironic, really, that you are comforting her.

You look back at the water, Sana does the same.

"I'll stay here longer, y/n," she adds.

Part of your body rejoices, maybe you shouldn't, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't think about her almost every day.

Thinking about Sana has distracted you from many things -

especially at this moment.

You don't notice Momo opening the door and watching you and Sana.

You don't notice the way her grip on the glass is getting tighter and tighter.

Despair? Anger?

Fear?

And when you hear the sound of glass falling to the floor and shattering into little pieces -

Momo was already gone.

-

Your head hurts when you wake up, maybe it was stupid to play drinking games with Tzuyu, Dahyun and Sana.

Actually, you wanted to stay civil, but... it didn't work out so well.

You decide to take a walk through the forest to get some fresh air.

After a few minutes you find yourself in this place.

Behind bushes and trees -

The place where you saw Momo for the first time.

The place where she gave you the scar on your face - which is almost gone now,

The place where you and Momo fought in the rain.

The place where you kissed before you never saw her again.

But this time it's different, this time there's no Momo here to attack you, this time you're all alone, without any armor or weapon.

You sit down on the grass and lean against a bigger stone.

And it's so different from the other times, it's just quiet, pleasant.

And maybe it would have stayed that quiet and pleasant if you hadn't suddenly heard footsteps coming closer and closer,

and before you can even react,

Momo is standing right in front of you.

She looks down at you, her expression is hard to read, it's hard for you to tell what she's feeling.

The only thing you notice is that she has no weapon or armor.

She's not here as a knight from the other Kingdom, but simply as Momo.

Just Hirai Momo.

None of you dare to say anything, maybe that's what makes you different from Sana -

You're more afraid.

Because what you did with Momo was always whispering, talking at night, hiding.

She doesn't say anything, she just sits down next to you.

And you don't complain, no, of course not.

Because somehow this is something you've wanted for months.

You don't complain when Momo puts her head on your shoulder, but you put your head on hers.

You both look at the ground in front of you, the only sounds are your breathing, the chirping of birds and a light breeze that comes now and then.

And Momo's hand plays with the grass under her fingers, perhaps a sign of nervousness?

And when she starts humming softly, you don't mind, no, you just try to listen to her even more.

Even though the melody is unfamiliar to you, it is somehow so relaxing, unfamiliar and yet familiar at the same time.

And what's going on in your head that you're doing this, that you're daring to take her hand.

She doesn't pull her hand away, but intertwines your fingers.

And her cold hand is somehow so pleasant that you warm it with your warm hand and she cools you down with hers.

And this moment is more pleasant than you thought, if you only knew who exactly was watching.

Because the person is not happy, they don't know why they feel this way, but it hurts their heart.

Anger?

-

You yawn as you look around and slowly realize the situation you are in,

or rather, were.

You are still sitting on the grass, your back leaning against a stone as you look beside you,

Momo is gone.

Without a word of goodbye.

You get up, pick up your walking stick and walk back to the palace, it's quite late and you wonder how long you've been in the forest.

Before you can enter the palace, you run into Jihyo who quickly pulls you aside.

You give her a confused look before she starts talking,

"Sana's been looking for you all day," she says, and your body starts to hurt.

Why is she looking for you?

Does she know about Momo?

"I don't know what's going on, but she's in your room. Maybe you should go upstairs and talk to her," Jihyo says and you nod, thanking her for the warning.

The walk upstairs felt faster than usual, you take a breath and open the door, Sana is standing in front of the large window as you walk in.

You close the door behind you and walk slowly towards her, leaving a few feet of space.

"You shouldn't stand so long, sit down," she says, but it sounds more like an order.

You nod and sit down, she walks towards you.

"Where have you been?" she asks.

"In the forest."

"Why?"

Her question makes you think. You just wanted to get some fresh air, then you met Momo and just fell asleep.

"Just like that, why do you care?" you ask back and Sana laughs a little.

"You shouldn't spend time with people like that, especially not falling asleep next to them," she says, standing right in front of you.

She knows about it?

She has seen you and Momo?

Why is she telling you all this?

Thousands of questions pop into your head and you can already feel the headache, Sana interrupts your thoughts when she starts talking again,

"I know Momo, and believe me, she's not a good influence for you. She's dangerous, and you're not the first person she's had contact with like this. I only want the best for you," she says.

"What do you mean?" you ask, but she only confuses you more with her words.

She sits down across from you, her legs crossed, her back straight and her posture noble.

"You are not her first victim. No matter what you think is going to happen between you, it won't. She did something to my kingdom years ago that is still unforgivable," she replies.

"Just believe me, please. You know I only want the best for you."

Your hand clenches into a fist, how ironic that Sana out of all people would say such things.

"You only want the best for me? You left me, you said you couldn't be seen with me. You have no idea what's best for me," you reply, perhaps a little too aggressively.

But Sana doesn't seem to be offended, her expression is still neutral, but it looks like she's suppressing a smile when she starts talking again.

"Why is Momo so important to you that you get so defensive?" she asks.

She probably knew exactly what point she had hit.

Sana knows exactly how your emotions tick, she knows every single detail and could make you cry in just a second.

"I..." you start to speak, but nothing comes out.

"She attacked you, she's a knight of the other kingdom, she almost killed Jeongyeon. So I ask again, why is she so important to you?" she says, provoking you even more.

And as you think about it, you realize what a bad person Momo really is.

The many fights, the attack on Jeongyeon, the provocation, her aggression.

The way she made you cry?

Her tender lips on yours before she disappeared for months?

When she listened to you talk about your fears at the ball?

And her alleged attacks were never fatal, you start to notice while thinking about everything.

Jeongyeon - She hit her in a place that heals easily.

You - The scar on your face that didn't even touch your eye or neck.

Her sword that was in your thigh - it healed faster than you thought.

The way she always called for the others after hurting you, so you could get help right away.

Sana stands up, on her way out of your room, but before she can leave, you turn around and say something.

"Maybe Momo is a better person than you."

Sana turns and looks at you, a smile on her lips.

A smile?

"I see" she answers and closes the door behind her.

Why did she say that?

Why did she smile?

What is she up to?

-

It is dark, the wind is cold and yet so pleasant.

You find yourself in front of a large stone wall, one that protects the palace.

Or rather;

You are standing in front of Dahyun's kingdom.

Even though peace has been restored, you prefer to play it safe and take the more inconspicuous route.

You bite your lower lip as you climb up, your thigh tightening from the pain as you reach the other side.

And as you run up the stairs to Momo's room, you are stopped.

"Who are you?" asks a man, taller than you, a small sword in his hand - probably as a defense.

You remember your dream again, the one in which you also met this man.

You don't answer him, but attack him, the sword flies out of his hands and lands in yours.

And before he can react, you stab him.

And as if nothing had happened, you just keep walking.

Up the stairs, through her door and close it behind you.

You look around her room first, it looks similar to yours, maybe because you're both knights.

You want to turn around, but you bump into something.

Or rather,

against someone.

You gasp as you feel a knife at your neck.

And somehow it's just like in your dream again.

"Momo, it's me," you say as she pulls her knife away from your neck again and puts it away.

"Why are you here?" she asks as she sits down on her bed, leaving space for you as you sit down next to her.

"I honestly don't know..." you start to say,

"I talked to Sana," you can tell from Momo's reaction that something is wrong.

The look on her face confuses you. Why is she reacting like this? What's the story behind the two of them?

"Did she tell you not to talk to me anymore? That I'm a bad influence?" Momo asks, you nod slowly, hoping she'll finally explain why Sana has been acting like this.

"I wasn't always part of Dahyun's kingdom Y/n," she says, and you're only more confused.

"Before Sana was in charge of her kingdom, it was Mina. Younger than Sana and I, but part of the royal family, which is why she came to power when her parents passed away." the more she talks, the more confused you get.

"We were pretty close friends, the three of us, I served Mina's kingdom," Momo stops talking for a moment, taking a breath as she looks down at her hands.

"It got to the point where Mina kissed me, and I kissed her back. We acted like two little teenagers in love, but then..." You see her thinking about how to phrase her next words, she lets out a little laugh.

"Our kingdom was attacked and I defended Mina and Sana. Mina wanted to stay with me the whole time because she was worried about me. When it came to an attack...

she stood in front of me because I didn't see it coming, right infront of me and Sana.

I wanted to help her, but in the end it was too late.

Sana still hasn't forgiven me for it, it seems. She got everyone to turn on me, and I fled because it's supposedly all my fault." Momo says and stops talking, you look at her, and now somehow you understand everything.

"But it's not your fault" you whisper, it shouldn't even come out as a whisper, but somehow it just doesn't come out any louder.

Momo looks at you, a slight smile on her lips - which quickly disappears,

"But maybe you need to listen to Sana, even if I hate to say it.

I don't want anything bad to happen to you," she says.

Couldn't she have just said "Don't listen to Sana"?

"Wouldn't it be funny if this was the last time we talked to eachother in peace?" Momo asks.

You look at her and somehow wish she hadn't said that, because it makes you somehow scared.

But you choose to ignore it.

You choose to focus on the present, on what's happening now and not years later.

You take a deep breath and take her hand in yours.

Her hand is cold, again, - yours is warm.

She looks at you as you answer;

"You're both idiots"

Momo looks at you, confused.

You close the distance between the two of you, her soft lips on yours as she dares not move.

This time it's different.

It's not a stupid dream you're having because you're confused about your feelings for Momo.

It's all more real.

And you want it, so, so much.

But before you can pull away, Momo starts kissing you back.

And her lips feel so soft, it feels like a new sensation that drives you crazy.

As you two continue kissing, Momo pushes her tongue into your mouth and you let out a soft whimper at the feeling of her exploring your mouth.

She pushes you into her matress as she gets on top of you, leaving your lips as she places wet kisses on your jaw, trailing down to your neck and leaving hickeys by biting, sucking and nibbling on your skin.

Your hands grip the bedsheets, head leaning back deeper into the pillow because of the pleasure, toes curling into the bed as Momo parts your legs with her free hand, slowly and lightly rubbing circles over the pants you have on.

"Fuck Momo-" you let out, opening your eyes to make eye contact with her.

Her hands toy with the hem of your shirt, looking at you with a smile that seems more like a nasty smirk.

"Can I take this off?" she asks, and you're close to just rip off your shirt yourself, because Momo knows damn well how much you want this.

"Don't ask stupid questions.." you answer, and your t-shirt is being pulled off faster than you thought.

And Momo's eyes sparkle a little when she sees that you haven't thought about wearing a bra, being topless right infront of her.

She leans down, trailing her kisses down from your collarbone to your chest - kissing inbetween your breasts before taking one of your hardened buds into her mouth, her hand playing with the other one.

You throw your head back again, back arching, wanting to get somehow even closer to her touch.

After licking, biting and lightly sucking, she continues kissing down your body, stopping right infront of your pants.

She thinks quicker than you - catching your hands before you could, somehow, make her touch you where you really need it faster.

She looks up to you, that nasty smirk fully on her lips, and oh god what you would do to wipe it off her face so she stops feeling so confident.

"You're so impatient baby, how long did you wait for this?" she asks teasingly, her voice husky, making that one damp spot on your underwear even wetter.

"Too long-" you whimper, maybe it would be embarrassing to admit this, and it is probably very embarrassing - but in this moment, you couldn't care less.

Your body is hot, sweaty, and your mind clouded by the thought of Momo finally touching you like you desire.

Mind full of wanting to submit to her, your body trusting her completly to being in charge.

She interrupts your thinking when you see her having a piece of black cloth in her hands, her look on her face not that teasing, rather like she is asking you if she can do what she wants to do.

A simple question, no strings attached.

You nod.

She smiles, sitting upright as she takes your arms, placing them behind your back as she ties your wrists together, not too tight, but definetly so tight that you cant simply take them off.

She plays with the strings of your pants, clearly teasing you, again.

"How bad do you want this?" she asks, leaning on top of you as she whispers into your ear, her breath hot and her voice sensual.

You feel shivers running down your spine as she speaks, thinking of an answer that will leave her satisfied enough to touch you.

"So bad that its embarrassing to say, so bad that i would say it infront of the whole kingdom so they can hear it." you answer, and your breath hitches when Momo brushes her finger against the damp spot, pressing right against your heat, telling by her face, she's visibly satisfied by your answer.

"Can't leave you hanging, right?" she says, fingers hooking onto your pants as she pulls them off along with your underwear, throwing it on your shirt.

She lowers herself so her face is right infront of your core, her slow breaths tickling you in a way that makes your hips buck.

She comes closer, leaving kitten licks on your clit as you moan, head leaning back into the pillow as you bite your bottom lip.

Your hands try to move as you realize that they are tied together, wrists rubbing against eachother as your body tries to feel Momo even more.

"Please.. don't tease-" you moan out, earning a chuckle from her.

"Okay okay.." she answers, her tongue suddenly moving faster as she enters your hole, making you let out a louder moan.

You turn your head as you moan into the pillow your head is laying on, back arching even more when she speeds up.

"Momo.." you pant, moans leaving your mouth while you try to speak.

"I'm close-" you say, feeling her smirk as she, somehow, goes even faster, even deeper.

Your thighs close around her head, forcing her to spread them open again with her hands as you cum into her mouth, a loud moan ripping from your mouth as your juices flow out.

Momo pulls back, watching you breathe heavily as you try to come down from your high, brushing your hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear.

Maybe this is her favorite sight.

Seeing you like this.

Hands tied behind your back, cheeks flushed, neck full of hickeys, back slightly arched, eyes closed and your brows furrowed.

She doesn't get to stare long though - you open your eyes and look at her.

"Admiring me?" you say and laugh a little.

"Maybe" she answers, fingers drawing circles on your thigh.

A silent request, an invitation.

Her motives are clear as a sky without clouds.

And again, you nod, letting her take control over this situation, - letting her take control over you.

She smiles, fingers inching closer to your heat.

And when you feel her fingers brush over your clit, your mouth drops open, hips bucking into her touch, wanting more.

She pulls her fingers away, a string of wetness on them.

Her fingers slide down, through your folds as she slowly puts a finger in, your hands gripping the cloth that is restricting your hands.

You let out a moan and bite down on your lip.

And when Momo slowly starts to move, she realizes the way you're so tight.

"First time?" she asks, and you embarrassingly nod, cheeks turning into a crimson color.

She smiles, hand trailing up your body, leaning forward as she kisses your neck softly.

"I got you" she whispers, kissing along your neck and collarbone, adding another finger into you slowly.

"Fuck Momo-" you moan, your mind going crazy over the new sensation of Momo's long, thick, fingers inside of you, body slightly grinding onto her to feel her even more.

And she starts to thrust into you, some slow, experimental thrusts to see how you would feel.

Your moans get louder, and all your thoughts disappearing as your mind gets clouded by the way you feel Momo everywhere.

Her mouth lands on your breasts, kissing them as she drags a tongue over your nipple, making your back arch off the bed and closer to her.

"Are you close?" she asks, smiling against your chest as she curls her fingers into that spot that makes you moan even louder.

You nod, lip trapped between your teeth, head thrown back.

She grins against your chest, her fingers moving even faster, scissoring and curling into the spots that make you crazy.

"Momo-" you yell out, toes curling into the matress, gripping the cloth that is tied around your wrists, body twitching while cumming.

She slowly stops moving her fingers, helping you ride out your high.

She pulls her fingers out, slowly licking them clean.

You try to calm down, panting with your eyes closed.

Momo pulls off the cloth from your hands, and when you open your eyes you can see the little red marks it left.

She smiles at you, taking your hand in hers.

"How about we take a bath?" she asks with a smirk.

That nasty smirk again, the one that makes you want to wipe it off her face.

The one you slowly start to adore.

"Sounds good" you answer.

-

War.

War is like a plague, a disease.

Something that can always come back for some reason.

Once you have it, it will never leave you.

Peace, however, is something you can only dream of.

The complete opposite of war.

And while the kingdoms enjoyed the supposed peace, war came right after.

Unprepared, without any signs, without any official announcement.

It was only days after you slept with Momo.

Days after you last spoke to Sana.

Jihyo stands beside you as Tzuyu gives a speech to the residents, your armor donned.

"Are you sure you're really ready to fight yet?" she whispers to you.

You look to her briefly, and nod.

You look next to you and look at Momo.

"We'll do everything we can to keep the peace!" says Tzuyu.

"Our kingdoms will work together for your safety." says Dahyun, standing next to Tzuyu.

Momo has a slight smile on her lips, and it makes you show yours too.

Maybe you really are like childish teenagers who are in love, but in this moment - and in all other moments, really - you don't care.

Because you both have each other, and that's the most important thing.

You can be happy together.

Even with war.

You are split into groups, Jihyo, Jeongyeon, Momo and you, while the other knights are in another small group protecting a different part of the kingdom.

You run through the forest in two lines,

Jihyo and Jeongyeon are behind you,

Momo and you lead the way, all four of you with swords in hand, making sure no one can attack you.

It's darker now, which means you have to concentrate so that you can see everything clearly.

You walk past the part of the forest you've been to too often.

A part where you have probably made the most memories.

And somehow every one of them has something to do with Momo.

Momo notices you looking there and touches you with her arm so that you look at her, she smiles at you.

A simple sign that she knows what you're thinking about.

You hear a strange noise behind you, but before you can turn around you feel a blow to your head and fall to the ground.

The last thing you see are people standing in front of you and pulling a cloth bag over everyone's head so that you can't see anything.

The last thing you feel is thick ropes being tied around your arm.

And suddenly, you feel nothing as everything goes black.

As you slowly begin to regain consciousness, you realize that you are still tied up, your vision still blocked by the cloth bag.

You try to hear something and realize that you are in a carriage, or rather a horse-drawn carriage as you can tell by the clattering of hooves.

The cart comes to an abrupt stop as you hear something being opened, probably to get you out, but suddenly, you hear a whisper next to you -

"I'll find you in every universe."

You can tell by the voice that it's Momo, and how much you want to answer, Momo is pulled away and someone grabs you to get you out of the car.

You run to where you are being led and somehow you are scared, of course you should be scared, but that uneasy feeling in your stomach makes it all worse.

You are pushed to the ground, onto your knees.

The cloth bag is pulled off your head, and as you look around, you are shocked.

You see many knights, from their armor you can tell they are not from Tzuyu's or Dahyun's kingdom.

You see Sana.

Sana?

Her clothes dark, her expression cold as she watches all the other knights being forced to their knees just like you.

You look beside you, and a few meters away you see her.

Momo.

She looks you in the eye, her smile no longer on her lips, but, for the first time, her look is different.

She is afraid.

Next to you are Jihyo and Jeongyeon, somewhere further you see knights like Nayeon and Chaeyoung.

You look at Sana again, and as everyone looks at her, she starts talking.

"I'm glad to be here," she says with a wicked grin, one that gives you goosebumps.

She takes the sword from a knight and looks at it, then smiles.

"I don't really like doing the dirty work," she says.

"But as queen, sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands"

She looks around, her eyes landing on you.

"Oh Y/n, long time no see right?" she asks, kneeling down in front of you, sword in her hand.

She reaches behind your head, your hair between her fingers as she pulls your head back.

You grit your teeth.

Momo, further away, tries to get free, somehow, to help you, but it's impossible.

"Oh Y/n.. Our friendship is great, isn't it? Or maybe we have more?" she asks teasingly.

"We don't have anything." you reply, and she laughs.

She laughs and lets go of your hair to stand up.

"Because Momo is better than me, right? Right?" she asks, pacing back and forth a few steps.

You don't answer, but only feel more uncomfortable and wonder what exactly Sana is up to here.

"If you look around you'll see that we're somewhere in the middle of nowhere. A perfect place for corpses" she announces and everyone looks at her in confusion, looks full of fear.

"But don't be afraid... You don't have to do anything except watch..." she says, but suddenly she adds something that makes your blood freeze -

"Unless your name is Hirai Momo, then you're the star of the show!" she finishes, and everyone is even more shocked, Momo's eyes wide open as Sana points her sword at her.

"Sana! You can't do this," you say.

A pathetic attempt to somehow save Momo, to somehow stop Sana from doing what she's about to do.

Sana approaches Momo and stands right in front of her.

"Sana please!" you call out, she looks at you.

"Please..." you feel your eyes getting watery, "it's not Momo's fault that Mina is dead, you know that!"

Sana listens to you, lets you finish, and you feel like she's really letting up.

"You don't have to do this. Please. You're not a better person if you kill Momo. It won't bring Mina back!" you say, tears streaming down your eyes.

Sana nods.

Sana nods?

"I think you're right, Y/n..." she says, lowering the sword.

Only to raise it again.

"I make my own decisions, though." she says.

Momo looks at you,

and suddenly her face is covered in blood.

Sana's sword is suddenly stuck in her head before she pulls it out.

You've seen brutal things, of course, you're a knight -

But seeing Momo,

Momo being killed in front of you.

"Momo!" you scream.

Your eyes are full of tears and you somehow try to untie these filthy ropes.

Because somehow you think you still have a chance to save her.

Momo looks at you.

"Y/n.. I'll... I'll find you..."

She topples over, onto the dirty ground, onto the grass.

"Momo..." you say again, hoping that this isn't real.

It's just a bad dream, isn't it?

Or is it?

Jihyo looks at you, tears in her eyes and in everyone else's, but you're only focused on Momo.

She doesn't move, just lies there.

Not a single breath, no stupid grin, nothing.

-

"Why not in this one?" you ask.

"Why couldn't you just find me in this universe?" you ask.

And to hear you like that, you'd think you were talking to someone.

But no one is standing in front of you, or next to you.

You are alone.

'Hirai Momo, a fighter, a person full of love' is written on the gravestone.

And it doesn't feel real.

And a part of your body still hopes it's not real.

You kneel down, run your hand slowly over the engraved writing.

"Why?" you ask into the silence.

And inside, you think to yourself that someone is behind you, answering your question.

In your mind, Momo is standing behind you and says that she survived.

"I will never forget you," you say.

A promise.

One that you will never break.

One that you will always remember.

You will remember how beautiful she was, how she made you feel.

You will remember her smile, and you will always love her.

"I'll never love anyone like that again" you say to yourself, maybe you say it to her, in another universe she is listening to you.

In your heart, Momo is not a knight of the other kingdom,

Or a bad person,

But simply Hirai Momo.

[haveihitanerve]

Stephanie Brown hated Galas. Well, that wasn't exactly true. She loved parties of any kind, and technically a Gala was just a big fancy party. More accurately, she hated the people at Galas. The rich, snooty elite who looked down at her with their perfectly straight noses, a polar opposite of her very crooked nose because one can only spend so long as a vigilante and get your nose broken and set so many times before ones nose loses its original shape. Hated them with their fake pitying looks. The whispers about her being just another street rat. Orphan trash. Which wasn't even true, but Steph preferred it to if they knew the truth. All in all, the company at Galas wasn't particularly pleasant. Which is how she found herself huddled in the far corner, nursing a glass of champagne. “You're not old enough to be drinking that.” rumbled a deep voice. Stephanie almost dropped her glass. As it was, it sloshed around enough to spill onto the front of her dress. “Asshole.” Steph hissed, setting the drink aside and reaching for napkins or something. “Cant you just approach like a regular human?” She griped. Bruce Wayne smirked at her, tugging out his own handkerchief to help her. “No bruce, thats your- pocket thingy.” Steph declined, shoving his hand away. “Stephanie.” Bruce let out a sigh of exasperation. “It doesn't matter. Stop- stop, here.” He leaned forward, dabbing at the spill. Steph grumbled, but dropped her hands, letting him work. “What are you even doing in my sulk corner? Shouldn't you be out there- i dunno, bedazzling the guests?” Bruce chuckled lightly, looking up at her from where he was crouched. “Bedazzling? Sulk corner?” He pulled away, satisfied with his work, standing up straight. Steph crossed her arms. “Ah. I see it now.” Steph uncrossed them. Bruce granted her another listen of his laugh. “I wanted to see you.” Steph raised an eyebrow. “You can see me just fine from over there.” Bruce gave her a look. “Come on, you're dancing now.” “what?? No- no Bruce!” she hissed, but it was too late, he had her hand and was dragging her to the dance floor. “Bruce!” Steph hissed through gritted teeth as he swung her around into a dance pose. “Im not supposed to be here!” She whispered as he led her in a circle, one arm securely on her waist the other steadily holding her hand. Bruce raised a perfect brow. (damn him) “Why not?” Steph looked around at the very obvious eyes on the richest man in the room dancing with her. Steph's cheeks flushed. “I don't- im not one of them.” She gestured at the crowd around them before letting it fall back onto his shoulder. Bruce smiled. “I don't care about that Stephanie.” Steph blushed. “No no i know you don't. But they do.” Bruce shrugged. “Who cares what they think? I’m the richest man in this entire room. They're just some elite fuckwads. Fuck them if they cant deal with me dancing with my daughter.” 

Steph gaped at him, eyes wide. “I’m sorry did I just die and am in hell? Does Bruce Wayne say fuck in hell?” Bruce rolled his eyes. “And secondly, when did you adopt me?” Now it was Bruce’s turn for his eyes to go wide. “You mean I haven't already?” He gasped. “You have your own room at the manor and I have a headache that is induced by your presence.” Steph scoffed. “Those are all the requirements?” Bruce shrugged. “I mean theres stuff like, I love you, and I would hate to live in a world without you and all that-” Steph wrinkled her nose. Bruce nodded. “Yeah exactly. So those are the main criteria.” He suddenly looked a little nervous. “Are you saying you don't want to be adopted?” Steph rolled her eyes. “Don't get all sentimental on me now B. I mean, maybe?” She shrugged. “I don't know if I fit the requirement.” Bruce stared at her. “Headache. Induced by your presence.” Steph rolled her eyes. “Not your requirements. I could be a fucking delight or a little gremlin and so long as I looked pathetic enough at certain times you'd be willing to adopt me.” She threw a look over at Damian and Jason. “Actually thats not even a requirement.” Bruce scoffed. “I just meant, their requirements.” Bruce looked confused. “The kids? They all love you. In fact, I think you're the least stabbed out of everyone by Damian.” “No i meant- wait really?” Bruce nodded. “Huh.” Steph glanced back over at him, and indeed, Damian even smiled when she caught his eye.  “Anyways.” Steph sighed. “I meant your friends. Society.” She clarified when it was clear he was about to bring up some bullshit about Clark and Diana. “Ah.” Dawning realization swept over Bruces face. “Yeah.” Steph muttered. “Im afraid your ‘ton’ wont take so kindly to another charity cased street rat.” Bruces hold on her hand tightened and Steph looked up in surprise. “Don't.” Bruces voice was uncharacteristically hard. “Don't ever say that about yourself again Stephanie do you hear me? You are not the insults they call you. If it was acceptable for me to rip out their vocal cords everytime i hear them say that sort of stuff about you, about jason and dick and-” Bruce cut off, breathing hard. “Alfred denies me, although he is no fonder of it.” Steph gave a laugh that sounded suspiciously close to a sob. “Okay.” She whispered. Bruce smiled in relief. But Steph wasn't done. “Okay you can adopt me.” If Steph had any doubts of Bruce’s feelings being untrue, the pure elation on his face just then destroyed any of them. That look of pure joy just couldn't be scripted. And so, under the watching eyes of every elite member in Gotham, she threw herself at his neck, wrapping herself around him in a tight hug. She didn't care anymore. After all, they were just some elite fuckwads.

[withonly-sweetheart]

Feathered Fiend

You unburden yourself on a creature that should have no burdens. You tell it of your unrequited love, but is all truly what it seems?

a/n: MINT ANON!!! IM SO HAPPY THAT I COULD WRITE THIS FOR U! PLEASE REACH OUT AND TELL ME IF U LIKE IT BC THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA!! AHH KISSING YA RN

also if you think there should be a part two...? with a war and everything... between the two... hahahaha lmk! <3 <- READ IT HERE !!

tw: angst, mentions of blood, i think the kiss scene is a bit like nsfw but not really so be ready!

wc: 4.8k

You feel horrendous. 

Your world is coming very close to tipping one side, like an uneven scale of glittering gold, blurring at the edges of your eyes as you press the rim of the champagne glass to your lips, swirling the sickly liquid around your tongue before it swims down your throat.

Almost immediately you recoil from the taste, setting it down where it stands proudly, precariously, against the high ledge of your balcony. One swipe and it would splinter the pillows of snow, turning them a shade of maroon you won’t dare to imagine.

You nudge the blueberries on the plate resting on the connecting area of the railing, where the ornate designs curve into a final smile, disappearing into the concrete. You fight to keep disdain from your expression as one of them passes your lips, staining your mouth with a honeyed juice. 

You roll your tongue and glance over your shoulder, at the threads of light and velvet weave the tapestry that is the gala down the hall, where everyone is draped in dramatic, auburn brushed chandeliers that bronze their flushed faces and carry their lively chatter across the room.

Suddenly you find yourself longing for the bitter wind misting your skin that you had cursed away, the icy daggers pinching your skin, crawling into your blood, turning you cold.

Out here, with only the moonlight for company, you could forget that somewhere in those halls roams your mother, arms linked with yet another noble, feline eyes slanted as she paws at his crisp suit, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. You know for a fact that eventually, you’ll be shaking his hand, forcing a smile and pushing responses past your gritted teeth as you bet with yourself how many days he’ll last.

But you’ve forgotten that, eyes trailing a bird that has joined you. It’s a peculiar looking thing, with dappled, sunny and sky blue feathers and an underbelly of soft white. You curl a finger, mouth quirking in amusement as it hops near, tilting its head curiously.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen such a little thing,” you murmur as it pecks at the cloying remains of fruit left on your fingertips. However gingerly, you pinch the remaining berries between your fingers and hold them out, as an offering to this free spirit.

You watch as it chirps sweetly. How long has it been since you’ve had birds resting on your hands, laying serenely in a patch of sunlight in the forest, when your father would shake his head at you, standing at the edge of your little area, with that small smile that only you could coax from him?

As all things do, the bird quickly finishes its meal and hops away, flexing its wings to take off, leaving you breathless in its absence. It seems to hesitate, looking back at you for but a moment before soaring back into the sky.

If only you could do the same.

<><><><>

Just as it was when you left, everyone entertains themselves with far too animated conversations and laughter, and you feel perfectly alone in the midst of it all. Claire nudges your shoulder gently before linking her arm with her date - an imposing, tall figure with striking brown hair and a stoic expression on his chiseled face. He nods at you in a formal and somewhat cold manner before turning away into the swirling crowd of dancers.

"You okay?" Claire whispers in your ear, her brow creasing with concern as she glances around to ensure her date doesn't abandon her.

"Of course," you reply, digging your fingernails into your palm to keep your voice steady. Claire’s eyes narrow as she studies your face, clearly not convinced by your attempt at seeming unconcerned. However, she decides to let it go for the moment and hands you a glass of shimmering purple wine.

"Come on," she drawls teasingly, perhaps on her seventh drink, when you hesitantly decline her offer. "It's a party, enjoy yourself!"

You absently turn your head to survey the room and find yourself fixating on Leon. He stands across the crowded ballroom floor, surrounded by his family and friends. You’re pondering his absence for the first phase of the gala when your heart clenches involuntarily at the sight of a woman you don’t recognize, a vision in white and baby pink, clutching his arm possessively as if she owns him entirely. Her eyes glitter in the chandelier's light above you while a wide smile adorns her face that refuses to fall.

"Ignore them," Claire tells you softly, sensing your growing discomfort as she squeezes your arm reassuringly before abandoning her somber expression for a warm smile. "Promise me you won't spend the entire evening torturing yourself by watching him."

"Promise," you lie quickly, intertwining your finger with hers to seal the falsehood that hangs between you. Claire seems to sense the insincerity behind your words, but refrains from pressing further. Instead, she gently pats you on the back in solidarity before departing towards another group of friends as her long black hair flows gracefully behind her like a dark river.

But your thoughts inevitably wander back to him, and with them come the revolting parasite that attaches herself to him at every waking moment. Her strawberry blond hair is perfectly styled into a neat bun, and her stunning gown billows around her in soft ruffles of white and pink that seem almost ethereal.

With the threat of loathing searing your skin, you choose to turn and focus on the colorful assortment of snacks meticulously arranged on the long, elegant table nearby. However, it soon becomes impossible for you to ignore the situation, as she attractively lifts up her slender fork and taps it against her delicate glass with incredible poise. The resulting light, tinkling sound resonates through the grand and spacious manor, effectively quieting the gathered guests down.

"Thank you all for being here," she gracefully begins, a sinister yet charming smile curving her full lips. "I would like to commence this lovely evening by expressing what an honor it is for me to be present here amongst such distinguished company." Her words ooze deceit, dripping like thick layers of sweet honey on poisonous thorns just waiting to ensnare any unsuspecting victims.

"I am equally thrilled," she continues with feigned enthusiasm, "that my close friend - someone whom I hold near and dear - Duke Leon Kensington, has graciously invited me to cut the ribbon at the grand opening of the prestigious Arklay Academy."

The room responds with a unanimously enthusiastic round of applause. Feeling compelled by the atmosphere, you too mechanically tap your palms together, not truly understanding the need to celebrate her undeserved moment of fame. An ugly surge of jealousy courses through you as an alternative explanation for your unwillingness to participate in the celebration presents itself - you find it incredibly disheartening that it is this strange woman’s hands tightly wrapped around Leon’s arm instead of yours.

All around you, glass chandeliers cast dazzling reflections on the polished marble floor as sophisticated conversations fill the air. Delicate strings of pearls and fine silks brush against one another as finely dressed men and women exchange pleasantries with glittering smiles. You gaze down for a moment, closely examining the intricate embroidery on your sleeves, while your lips form a tight purse.

Your mother catches your eye as she slips between the crack of the door. There is a man’s hand on her hip, cupping the dip of her body. Her gaze seems somewhat apologetic, but you turn on your heel and march the other way, hoping no one sees her eyes trailing you, trying to leave behind the lingering embarrassment that tugs you back. 

<><><><>

"Why have you dragged me here?" Leon’s smooth, unblemished voice sends shivers crawling up your spine. Curiosity takes hold of you as you muster enough courage to slightly peek around the corner of the door frame - only to find the same woman standing there in front of him.

"The king cannot stop me now," she asserts defiantly, as she grasps a fistful of his shirt collar and forcefully presses her lips against his. They don’t fit right.

You can't quite remember what it was that you choked out in response to the scene before you. What you do remember is the overwhelming sensation of feeling like your soul was akin to a fragile mirror that he had smashed unreservedly, leaving jagged shards that pierced your chest, drawing blood and suffocating you from within.

Leon eventually pulls away from the girl with a noticeable expression of uncertainty on his face; however, his eyes undeniably glint with intense desire. "Duchess Graham… what if we're discovered by someone?" he questions nervously.

Ashley Graham. You haven’t heard much of her, but you don’t truly care for the gossip that passes through the kingdom, over who is courting who, over who was found with one too many glasses of salt-rimmed wine.

"Let them see," Ashley speaks softly as she trails her delicate fingers down the sleek contours of his muscular form, asserting possessively, "I want everyone to know that you're mine." She pulls him closer and once again locks her lips against his.

And with one erratic swing, you aren't just sad anymore. You are angry as well. It is sickening to see the affection between her and this man who has so easily captured your heart with his stunning azure eyes, smooth tawny hair that seems effortlessly tousled, and his dazzling smile that makes you weak in the knees.

Pain pounds against your chest as you realize how easy it is for you to imagine yourself in Leyla's place. Your thoughts wander to a fantasy where his long, slender fingers are tangled in your own hair as he touches you with practiced expertise, knowing exactly where you crave his touch the most. He would lean in, planting kisses on areas you didn't even realize needed attention, the pool of desire widening through your body, drowning you both whole.

As you storm back through the room from where you emerged, still trembling with anger coursing through you, the only sound that seems to mock your pain is the relentless echo of their muted kisses.

<><><><>

As Ashley wraps her arms tightly around his shoulders, he can't help but suppress a gag reflex and force a bright smile onto his face. His body tenses as he scans the bustling room, spotting no one he wishes across the crowd, his deep blue eyes fixed intently on the floor. The sight of his defeated expression fills him with a sense of disgust that's hard to shake off.

He notices your eyes dragging across his body, leaving him flushed when you look elsewhere. But the girl at his side assumes it's her doing. 

Being led into the hallways by Ashley, she suddenly pushes him against the cool tiled wall. Her cold fingers trail slowly along the skin of his exposed arms while he offers no resistance. Instead, he reaches out to bury his fingers in her thick, flaxen hair, the strands feeling like delicate spider silk. As their bodies press together, he can't keep his gaze from wandering toward her enticingly exposed thighs.

Kissing her is like experiencing something that he never knew he was going to. He isn’t sure whether or not he likes it, whether or not he finds it pleasing.

But as all men do, he expects to be overwhelmed by seductive desire as he tugs on her soft hair and melts further into her. He’s always felt that their only interactions are either at such social gatherings or the results of his mother’s malicious manipulation; sending him storming down the kingdom roads, only to find respite in Ashley’s comforting embrace. Whenever he lands in her arms, his troubles seem to transfer themselves into the air of his muffled sobs into the ruffles of her dress.

This time, though, something feels different.

Opening his eyes as they remain locked in their intimate position, he can't help but notice the complete absence of emotion in her distant gaze - a void that mirrors his own feelings at that moment. The once alluring smile has vanished from her face as she tilts her head to one side, letting her dress slip seductively off her shoulder without bothering to adjust it.

With nonchalance in her voice, Ashley asks him, "What's wrong?" Unable to find any words to respond, all he can do is focus on her hollowed cheeks. Suddenly finding her much less attractive than before, he fights the urge to pull away. Desperately trying to forget his unease, he presses his right hand deeper into her hair while allowing his left hand to hang limp at his side.

However, no matter how hard he tries, he cannot escape the vision of you cradled in his arms, hair weaving seamlessly through his fingers and eyes wide with innocence.

Had you been completely oblivious to what had happened mere minutes ago? The thought makes him smile faintly, which Ashley misinterprets as a signal of his enjoyment. Responding to that cue, she sensually guides his other hand onto her inner thigh, fixing him with a lustful gaze.

The sensation is overwhelming as every fiber of his being screams desperately for him to let go of Leyla, push her away, to reject her advances altogether. Panic rises within him like thick toxic smoke as she begins unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his vulnerable skin to the cold midnight air.

Suddenly, it strikes him that they are standing in the middle of nowhere, everywhere and existing in the plane of blank space all at one, his arm firmly pressed over her head, effectively trapping her against the row of cold metal lockers. The strands of her luscious caramel hair seem to capture the ethereal glow of the moonlight seeping in through the windows. Her plump lips, glistening with a layer of moisture, remain slightly parted and poised just inches away from his, patiently waiting for another taste.

And he’s always found her attractive, perhaps even more so than the other women who fall at his doorstep, with their silly, useless, profuse apologies that fall from their thin lips, with their meaningless gifts that end up stored in a closet somewhere in the castle.

But now, he struggles to find his voice, something that’s never happened with her. "I-I..." Something clicks inside his mind, and as if emerging from a trance, he swiftly pulls away from her. 

Leon’s eyes widen with confusion and shock as he tries to comprehend what has just happened. Leyla's expression is nothing like his own, fully aware of what is unfolding between them. She tugs at her dress to reposition it and then meets his gaze with a fierce glare.

“Bored already?” she asks quietly.

Leon cares, he truly does. However, he suspects that it has always been this way. The brief solace that she provides him whenever he’s fled from the thin definition of home that he has held close to his heart has always been the string connecting them.

And he’s just severed it.

<><><><>

The bird flutters back to you, after the moon and sun have exchanged greetings and said their farewells twice now, and you find yourself sighing in remorse.

“Did you know, little bird, that there is a boy?” You chuckle to yourself, shaking your head as amusement tints your expression. “No, not boy. He is a man now, yet I will always see him as the little boy who offered me lunch every day, back when we were all the same to each other.

“I will not tell you his name, for I fear you will utter a curse upon him to the gods, and then where would I be? More or less heartbroken, because if he is gone, no one else may love him.”

The bird stares back at you, beady eyes seeming to narrow in concern. You might as well entertain yourself with the idea he understands you, at least for the few hours you have before yet another gala your mother has requested your presence at.

Surprisingly enough, the woman in question waits quietly as you stroll back inside, shooing the bird from your balcony, wishing for it to not be burdened with your troubles. 

There’s a sheen of fabric splayed out on your neat bedsheets. There is a sense of guilt that hangs between you two, but you suppose, just for her pleasure, you could do this one small thing.

And you would be lying if you said you didn’t like the dress.

It fits perfectly. Waves of satin and gold shimmering together, like polished fish swimming in a clear ocean. They had arranged your hair in curls that fell over your shoulders and cascaded down your back like a waterfall. It felt prim and proper in a way that you had never experienced before - the feeling itself sent electric shivers running through your body. Perhaps you can treat yourself, just this once.

The looks are infinitely more worth it, especially when your presence renders even Leon speechless. You notice, with a small, smug smile, that Ashley is nowhere to be seen. You wonder what’s become of her. Perhaps her parents finally found the inevitable love child.

“You certainly know how to command a room,” he remarks, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” you reply, your tone light yet teasing.

“Everywhere?” he suggests, voice dropping low as he shifts his weight to stand closer to you. If last night’s events had not transpired, you might’ve allowed it. But all you can think of is her skin under his, not yours, and suddenly you realize that must be such a normal occurrence.

“Watch your tongue,” you hiss, stepping back. With a small, knowing smile, you tilt your head slightly, a silent message that you are not easily swayed by mere words or charm. 

You hold your power, in your quick tongue, holding your ground, even as Leon’s face contorts with confusion, with hurt.

“Whatever happened to the curse of gods,” he mutters. 

“Are you referencing the required reading from the passage?” you drone. 

“Yes, no. Of course. That is what I meant.” He clears his throat yet his eyes cloud with an emotion you cannot identify. He glances past you, gives a little wave, dipping his head respectfully to you before stalking past.

You wait a moment, perhaps two, before twisting over your shoulder. He is standing alone at the wine table, cupping a glass carefully between his fingers, as if pondering the ripples that his lips send out through the crimson liquid.

You hope it will slip, staining the white of his linen shirt.

Perhaps that will show him your agony, how your heart had turned inside out and painted your chest red when he kissed her and not you, hidden in that hallway.

<><><><>

Bloody and broken is how the bird arrives, that same night, as you sigh your troubles away into a plate of cucumber, sprinkled with chili flakes you had stolen from the kitchen. It chirps in sorrow, pecking at the fabric of your dress.

You pull away, raising an eyebrow before finally noticing the red dripping down its wiry legs, pooling in small beads around the talons that scratch the concrete. When you reach to cup the feathery, suffering animal between your hands, the dust stirs and floats down to the dying snow.

“Oh, you poor thing,” you coo, ushering yourself back into your room. Where your mother has hidden the aid kits, you do not know, so you wrap its damaged wing in some gauze you find underneath the sink.

There doesn’t seem to be an infection, but perhaps you should call Duchess Chambers, plan for her expertise. But the moon has already swam up to its high perch in the sky, and you know she will be tending to the late night patients.

And, of course, when you wake, the bird is gone. Only the crimson splatters on your desk remain, staining the letter that had arrived the evening before.

Blood so perfectly covers the name of the man you are set to wed in a few weeks.

<><><><>

"What happened there?" you inquire casually. His gaze follows yours, and he prods at the bandage covering his right hand with a wince.

"I participated in a fight," he admits with a hint of amusement. Your eyes widen in horror, darting around to confirm no one else has arrived in the abandoned hallway where you once sought solace, now only fear.

"T-The peasants?" you stutter, taking a step back. He could be joking, yes, yet he seems unworried and advances toward you.

"No," he muses. "I… engaged in combat with a tree."

You pause. “A… tree?”

He nods solemnly, as if the problem was truly within his supposed ‘opponent’. “You need not inform me. I already know.”

You scoff, unable to stop the sarcastic response that climbs up your throat. “Of course you would fight with a tree. Who has upset you now, your mistress?”

He cocks his head to the side, confusion swimming in his distressed eyes, echoing, “My mistress?”

“Baroness Graham,” you seethe. “Do not fret, I suppose everyone has seen your bond.”

“We aren’t…” Leon flushes, staring back down, eyes glued to the carpet. “That has never been the case.”

“Perhaps look at your surroundings next time you exchange intimacy in a public area,” you mumble. “Just about anyone may have caught you both.”

If it were possible, you are sure he would’ve turned an even deeper shade of red, matching the burgundy curtains. You rub the bridge of your nose and turn away, unable to watch his flustered, regularly smart mouth open and shut.

“I even thought of courting you,” you say, slightly bemused. “That was how enamored I was with the idea of being yours. Of you being mine.”

This statement seems to spark something in him, because he rests a gentle hand on your shoulder, but there is nothing gentle about the way he whirls you around, forcing you to face him. You are mere inches from the wall, you think, and if he chose to corner you, your only option would be to throw your punches. Which hand, now, was the question.

“And why do you think I stopped?” he replies with just as much exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose before glaring down at you.

“Because I will always be a lesser priority to you.”

“You must be missing some pieces,” he grumbles. “Because never once in my life have I ever thought of you less than me.”

“Less than Ashley?”

“Never.”

“Then why did you stop pursuing her?”

“Because you told me!” he seethes. “Yes, I heard everything you said about me. Perhaps find better confidants than woodland creatures.”

His words leave you with broken sentences clumping in your mouth, your tongue feeling awkward and clumsy as you stammer, “T-The bird… you?”

“The bastard child of a nymph,” he admits with a dry chuckle. “Yet I will say that nothing you said was untrue, and that you are more glorious than a morning blossom. Still interested?”

“You… oh… dear.” You flush. “Your lineage matters… not to me.”

He arches a curious eyebrow, eyes glinting. “Our heirs will be of the forest. Does it bother you that your trusted little bird is truly me?”

A small part of you must’ve suspected this from the day in the gala, where he had alluded to your conversation, but it was a silly thought, no? A noble, a figure of society, a fluttering little thing that chose, of all maidens, to spend time with you?

You rest a hand on his chest, gazing up at him. 

“I would not have it any other way, little bird.”

<><><><>

It was your secret, meant to be between you. But the walls have ears, and behind the shades of violet and maroon are listeners, people waiting to break apart what must be the only good thing that’s ever happened to you.

His face is ashen, cheeks hollow when you finally gain the courage to visit him in the dungeons below the castle. You do not understand the cause for his punishment. Who is he harming if he is but two souls in two bodies, one of which is meant for your realm and the other, a wild, free spirit?

“My dear,” he rasps when you approach, clutching the bars like a madman. You stare blankly into his crazed eyes, unable to find the man you once loved.

It has not even been a full month, you remember. You were to be wed, to love one another for eternity, however his lifeline works. You had assumed he would die to join you in the haven past the clouds.

“Leon?” you whisper. 

“It is me, truly,” he chokes out. “Please, tell them.”

Your mother is standing beside you, touching your arm with those soft, slender fingers that always had the strange power to make you submit to her will. Perhaps she is also a creature of the woods, perhaps that is how she has managed to fancy all the eligible suitors even at her age.

But whatever she has done, she will always be your mother.

“Tell them what, Leon?” you ask softly. “Your kind has obviously caused us some harm, lest you be in this troubled, pitious situation.”

He looks up at you, confused, fingers slipping from their hold on the iron to reach out for you. As if on instinct, you and your mother step back, her face contorting in disgust.

“Do you see what happens if you keep secrets, dear?” she whispers, voice toxic in your ears. In some sick way, you realize that she must’ve manipulated some part of the puzzle, because how are you free from the consequences that both of you should be suffering?

“I have done no such thing,” Leon says, voice low since that seems to be all he can manage. In his disarray, in his mangled state, you find yourself unable to take any of his reasoning to heart.

“Pray tell,” you say quietly. “Is Baroness Graham also one of your kind?”

He draws back as if you have pinched him. “No. I thought my lineage did not matter to you.”

Your mother scoffs, cutting back in. “Lineage is everything, you deceiving traitor. You know that magic is forbidden in our kingdom, yet you sought to take my dear child away.”

What surprises you the most is that Leon offers no response. He purses his lips in a straight line and looks back down at his feet. You feel your own tremble.

“Is it true?”

“Would you have trusted a wolf at your door?” he mumbles. “I could’ve taken you at any moment, yet I resisted. I presented myself as the being you wished to be.”

“The beast admits to it, fooling you,” your mother seethes, and without another word, she turns and marches away.

"Mother, please," you cry, hurrying after her into the widening dusk. She stalks ahead, shoulders set in stony resolve.

You glance back at his silhouette, limned by flickering torchlight, and your heart strains near to breaking. But family has always come first. With a grimace, you tear your gaze away and redouble your pace to catch your mother.

"Why must you shun all who are different?" you ask as you fall into step beside her. "Leon has shown me only kindness." 

She cuts you a sharp look. "Do not be deceived. His motives are not as pure as they seem."

"And yet I went out of my way to save him," you insist. "He owes me his life - does that mean nothing?"

Your mother's eyes flash with some inner fire. "You should’ve let him die! You know not what evils his kind are capable of." 

Her strides lengthen, as if to outpace the doubts you sow. You match her pace, heartache weighing your every footfall. "Please, I beg you to give him a chance. Is peace not worth the risk?”

“You still do not understand,” she says, voice eerily calm.

“Then explain it!” You scuff the ground, stopping in your tracks. Your mother is not easily swayed, but her cloak billows around her, making her seem more intimidating than you know she is. “Explain why you hate such creatures-”

She raises a hand to silence you.

You do not foresee the tears that well in her eyes.

Her voice is broken.

Shattered glass once again pricks at your heart.

“Would you love a beast that has your father’s blood on his hands?"

[its-avalon-08]

Can you write one with Jenson Button based on Cardigan — Taylor Swift, but with a happy ending???

im like a year late to this one im so so so sorry it got lost in between requests, but enjoy!

cardigan (jb22)

✦ pairing - jenson button x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, absent jenson, tears, fluff

The music was loud, the bass thrumming through the floor of the crowded club, the kind of place where everyone seemed to forget the rest of the world existed outside those four walls. It was 2009, and Jenson had just been crowned Formula 1 World Champion. The energy was electric, the champagne endless, and the night seemed like it would never end.

Y/N was laughing, her head thrown back in that carefree way that made her glow under the dim club lights. She had a glass of something fizzy in her hand, but she wasn’t even drinking it anymore—too caught up in the euphoria of the moment, the freedom that came with feeling invincible. And next to her, Jenson was grinning like the world was his. Tonight, it was.

Dancin' in your Levis

"Jenson! I can’t believe it!" she shouted over the music, swaying as the beat pulsed around them. “You’re a champion!”

Jenson leaned down, catching her words between the thudding beats of the music. “It still doesn’t feel real!” he laughed, pulling her closer to hear him better. He was sweating, a mixture of the dancing, the heat of the room, and the alcohol they’d both been consuming in abundance. His arm draped loosely around her shoulders, like it had always been meant to be there.

Drunk under a streetlight, I knew you

They’d been inseparable the whole night. Well, truthfully, they'd been inseparable for months now—best friends who everyone suspected had something more, even if they hadn’t admitted it to themselves yet. But tonight, with the glow of Jenson’s victory surrounding them, something felt different. The line between friendship and something else was blurring faster than either of them could keep track.

The DJ switched to another song, something with a slower, sexier rhythm, and without thinking, Jenson tugged her onto the dance floor. Y/N followed, laughing, stumbling slightly as her heels betrayed her. His hand found hers, steadying her as they spun in the kaleidoscope of lights.

Hand under my sweatshirt

“You’re terrible at this!” she teased, half-dancing, half-stumbling into him.

“Am not! I’ve got moves you’ve never even seen!” Jenson replied, grinning down at her as he tried and failed to execute a half-decent spin.

Y/N couldn’t stop laughing, their steps completely out of sync with the rhythm. It didn’t matter, though. Nothing mattered in that moment but the way he was looking at her, the wild glint in his eyes, the freedom of it all.

Suddenly, they stopped, chest to chest, her hands resting against his shoulders, his on her waist. The air between them shifted, the world outside fading away as they stood there, swaying slightly to the beat.

“I’m so proud of you, Jense,” she said softly, her voice almost lost in the noise of the club. There was a warmth in her gaze, something more than just friendship, something she had been holding back for too long.

Jenson’s eyes softened, and his usual playful smirk faded into something more sincere, more vulnerable. “I couldn’t have done it without you, you know,” he murmured. His words hung in the air, heavier than either of them expected.

Baby, kiss it better

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. She felt the familiar buzz of alcohol, but there was something else too—a sense of inevitability, like they had been building to this moment for months. Her fingers tightened slightly on his shoulders, grounding herself as she searched his eyes for something, anything to tell her what he was thinking.

“Jenson,” she started, her voice trembling slightly, but the words caught in her throat. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the overwhelming emotions swirling inside her, but she felt brave, braver than she had ever been before. “I think—no, I know—I’m falling in love with you.”

The words tumbled out before she could stop them, hanging between them like a secret finally set free. For a split second, the world seemed to stop. Her pulse raced in her ears, her heart hammering as she waited for his response. She felt exposed, raw, but she couldn’t take it back now.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Jenson’s eyes widened, surprise flickering across his face before a slow, disbelieving grin spread across his lips. He didn’t say anything right away, just stared at her like he was trying to make sense of what she had just confessed. Then, almost as if something inside him snapped, he pulled her closer, his forehead resting against hers.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” he whispered, his breath warm against her lips.

Y/N blinked up at him, her heart still racing, barely able to process his words. “Wait, really?”

“Really,” he laughed softly, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe it. “I’ve been falling for you since… God, since forever. But I didn’t want to mess this up. I didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart swelling at his words. All the uncertainty, all the nights spent wondering if she was the only one feeling this way, suddenly vanished. She laughed, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep inside her as she pressed her forehead harder against his. “We’ve been so stupid,” she muttered, half-laughing, half-sighing.

Under someone's bed

“Yeah, we have,” he agreed, chuckling as he tilted his head just slightly, his lips brushing hers. “But at least we figured it out.”

Their kiss was soft, tentative at first, like they were both still trying to believe this was real. But then Jenson’s hand cupped the back of her neck, pulling her closer, and the kiss deepened. It was full of everything they had been holding back for so long—months of stolen glances, late-night conversations, and moments where the air between them had crackled with unspoken feelings.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, Y/N couldn’t stop smiling. Neither could Jenson.

“Guess you’re stuck with me now,” she teased, her arms wrapping around his neck.

“Good,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

And with that, they melted back into the rhythm of the music, lost in their own little world, dancing like they were the only two people in the room. The weight of their confessions, of their love, didn’t feel heavy anymore. Instead, it felt light—like a secret finally uncovered, like something beautiful that had been waiting for them all along.

And as they danced, hands intertwined and hearts full, they knew that whatever the future held, they’d face it together.

You put me on and said I was your favorite

It had been a few years since that night in London, where Jenson and Y/N confessed under the haze of alcohol and the glow of his championship. Since then, their lives had been a blur of airports, races, and fleeting moments together. They had shared highs and lows, laughter and love, but somewhere along the way, something had shifted.

The distance had crept in slowly—so subtly that neither of them noticed at first. It was in the small things, like the way Jenson’s once playful banter had become shorter, more distracted. Or the way Y/N stopped asking when he’d be home from a race weekend, knowing he probably didn’t have the answer anyway. The cracks in their relationship were growing, but they hadn’t said a word about it. Not yet.

To kiss in cars and downtown bars

Tonight, the apartment was quiet, too quiet. Jenson was slouched on the couch, scrolling through his phone with one hand and mindlessly rubbing his temples with the other. The TV was on, muted, the soft glow casting shadows across the room.

Y/N was in the kitchen, pretending to be busy washing the dishes, though her mind was elsewhere. She glanced over her shoulder at him, the same heaviness settling in her chest that had been there for months. They hadn’t really talked in so long. The kind of deep, raw conversations they used to have, the ones that made her feel like they could conquer anything together—that was all a distant memory now.

She dried her hands and walked into the living room, stopping by the doorway as if she didn’t know how to approach him. “Long day?” she asked, her voice too light, too careful.

Jenson didn’t look up from his phone. “Yeah, testing was brutal. The car’s all over the place.”

Was all we needed

Y/N nodded, though he wasn’t really looking for a response. This was how it had been for months—small talk, surface-level exchanges that didn’t scratch the surface of what was really happening between them. She sighed and sat down on the edge of the couch, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater.

“You want to talk about it?” she offered, though she wasn’t sure if she was asking about the car or their relationship.

Jenson finally looked up, blinking as if he’d only just realized she was there. He shrugged, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. “What’s there to talk about? It’s just work.”

But Y/N heard the exhaustion in his voice, the frustration that went deeper than just the car. She knew him better than anyone, and yet lately, it felt like she didn’t know him at all.

“You’ve been so… distant,” she said quietly, the words slipping out before she could stop them. She hadn’t meant to say it like that, not yet, but the silence between them had been suffocating her.

Jenson ran a hand through his hair, his expression tightening. “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, Y/N. You know that.”

You drew stars around my scars

“I know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But so do I. And it feels like we’re not… I don’t know, like we’re not even in the same world anymore.”

He looked at her then, really looked at her, and for a moment, something flickered in his eyes. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a tired resignation. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Y/N’s heart clenched. She hated how this conversation felt inevitable, how it had been brewing beneath the surface for so long. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted him to say, just something, anything to let her know that he still cared, that he still wanted to fight for them.

“I don’t either,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “I just… I miss us. I miss you.”

Jenson leaned back, rubbing his face with both hands. “I’m here, Y/N. What do you want from me? I’m doing everything I can. I’m giving everything I have to this career, to keep us afloat, to make it all work.”

“That’s the problem!” she blurted out, her emotions boiling over. “You’re giving everything to your career, and there’s nothing left for us! I’m not asking you to stop racing, Jense. I’ve never asked you to do that. But I don’t want to be a passenger in your life. I need you to show up for me too.”

The words hung heavy between them, and Jenson stared at her, his eyes clouded with confusion and frustration. He stood up, pacing the small space in front of the couch, his hand gripping the back of his neck like he was trying to hold himself together.

“I don’t know how to be everything for you right now,” he said, his voice rough. “I’m barely holding it together myself. You don’t think I miss us too? I don’t even recognize myself these days, let alone us.”

But now I'm bleedin'

Y/N felt the sting of his words, but more than that, she felt the weight of her own fears crashing down on her. They had always been so in sync, so connected, but now it felt like they were speaking two different languages. Every word they exchanged seemed to push them further apart.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered, her throat tight. “But I feel like I already am.”

Jenson stopped pacing, his back to her, his shoulders tense. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, the silence growing heavier by the second. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, barely audible over the hum of the muted TV.

“I can't anymore.”

The words shattered something inside her, something fragile that had been holding her together through all the distance, all the silence. She felt the tears burning in her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to break in front of him.

'Cause I knew you, Steppin' on the last train

Jenson turned around slowly, his expression pained, as if he regretted what he had just said but couldn’t take it back. He walked towards her, standing just a few feet away, close enough that she could feel the familiar warmth of him, but distant enough that he might as well have been a thousand miles away.

“I don’t want that,” he murmured, his voice soft but full of confusion. “I don’t want us to fall apart. But I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know where we went wrong.”

Y/N looked up at him, her vision blurred by the tears she had been holding back for too long. She wanted to reach out, to pull him close and tell him that they could figure it out, that they could still find their way back to each other. But something stopped her. Maybe it was the exhaustion in his eyes, or the emptiness in his words, or the fact that she wasn’t sure if he believed it anymore.

Marked me like a bloodstain, I knew you

In her mind, all the memories of them played like a broken record—those wild, carefree nights when everything felt possible, the laughter, the love. And now, here they were, standing on the edge of something she didn’t want to acknowledge. She hated that they had come to this, that the people they once were seemed like strangers now.

Inside her head, all she could think was, How did we get here? How did we go from dancing under the stars, full of hope and dreams, to barely speaking, barely existing together? It felt like the love she still carried for him was suffocating her, crushing her under the weight of what they had lost.

Tried to change the ending

Jenson’s voice echoed in his own head, just as broken. How do I fix this? He didn’t want to lose her, didn’t want to admit that they were slipping away from each other, but every time he tried to hold on, it felt like he was grasping at sand, watching it slip through his fingers.

They stood there in silence, so close but so far, two people caught in a whirlwind of emotions they didn’t know how to untangle. Both of them afraid to speak, afraid to break the fragile connection that was barely holding them together.

And in the quiet, all that was left was the ache of what they used to be, and the terrible, heart-wrenching uncertainty of what they had become.

Peter losing Wendy, I knew you

Title: "Broken Pieces"

It was past midnight, and the world outside was quiet, but the silence inside Y/N felt deafening. She stood on the terrace, the cool breeze ruffling her hair, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if it would somehow hold her together. The weight of everything that had gone wrong with Jenson had finally become too much. She wasn’t angry, not anymore. She was just broken.

The tears had come without warning—soft, silent sobs that wracked her body, escaping before she could stop them. She had tried so hard to stay strong, to keep it all in, but the cracks in her heart had deepened, and now she couldn’t hold it in any longer. Her vision blurred, the city lights below melting into hazy streaks, just like her memories of the life she and Jenson once had.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to steady her breathing, but the sobs kept coming, quieter than a whisper, yet so loud in the emptiness of the night.

Behind her, she heard the soft creak of the terrace door, but she didn’t turn around. She couldn’t.

“Y/N…”

Jenson’s voice was hoarse, barely audible over the sound of her crying, but it was enough to make her heart clench. She heard his footsteps, slow and hesitant, as he approached her. She didn’t know how long he had been standing there, watching her break down, but when he reached her, he stopped just a few feet away.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and neither did she. The weight of everything unsaid hung in the air between them, heavy and unbearable. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him move closer, his expression filled with a kind of desperate sorrow she hadn’t seen in him before.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to stop the tears, but it was no use. She turned slightly, her tear-filled eyes meeting his, and what she saw there undid her completely. His own eyes were glassy, filled with tears he had been trying to hold back. His face was etched with regret, his strong composure crumbling in front of her.

“I didn’t… I didn’t know how to fix this,” Jenson said, his voice breaking. “I thought if I just kept going, kept pushing through, maybe things would get better. But I was wrong. I’ve been wrong this whole time.”

She tried to speak, but her voice failed her, a soft sob escaping instead. She turned away, wiping her face with the back of her hand, but Jenson stepped forward, gently wrapping his arms around her from behind. His grip was tight, desperate, like he was afraid she would slip away if he let go.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his lips close to her ear. “God, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’ve been such an idiot. I thought I was doing everything right, but I’ve been so caught up in my own world, in racing, that I lost you.”

She leaned into his embrace, her body shaking with sobs, and Jenson held her tighter, his face buried in her shoulder. His own tears began to fall, silent but heavy, as he realized just how much he had hurt her, how much he had lost sight of what truly mattered.

“I didn’t mean to push you away,” he choked out, his voice filled with pain. “I swear I didn’t. I love you, Y/N. I love you more than anything. And I hate that I made you feel like I didn’t.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as she turned in his arms, facing him now, her hands trembling as they came to rest on his chest. “Then why… why didn’t you say anything?” she whispered, her voice barely audible between her sobs. “We’ve been falling apart, and I didn’t know how to reach you.”

Jenson’s eyes were red, tears streaming down his face as he cupped her cheeks, his thumbs gently wiping away her tears. “Because I was scared,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I was scared that if I admitted how bad things had gotten, it would mean we were broken. And I didn’t want to lose you. I thought if I just kept going, if I pretended everything was fine, we’d get through it.”

“But we didn’t,” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling. “We didn’t get through it, Jense. We’ve been drifting further and further apart.”

“I know,” he said, his voice breaking again. “I know, and it’s all my fault. I should’ve fought harder for us. I should’ve talked to you, instead of shutting you out. But I’ve been so wrapped up in my own head, in my own struggles, that I didn’t see how much you were hurting.”

Y/N’s tears fell harder now, the pain of all the months they had spent in silence, of all the nights she had cried herself to sleep, crashing over her like a wave. “I needed you,” she whispered. “I needed you, and you weren’t there.”

Jenson’s heart shattered at her words. He pulled her closer, his forehead resting against hers as his own tears mixed with hers. “I’m here now,” he whispered, his voice thick with guilt. “I’m here, Y/N. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t before, but I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

Y/N closed her eyes, her body trembling in his arms. She wanted to believe him, wanted to hold onto the hope that they could fix this, but the wounds were deep, and the pain still raw. “I don’t know if we can go back to the way we were,” she whispered, her voice fragile.

Jenson shook his head, his tears falling onto her cheeks. “I don’t want to go back. I want to move forward, with you. I want to fix this, Y/N. I don’t care how long it takes, or how hard it is. I’ll fight for you. For us.”

His words were filled with a desperate sincerity, and Y/N could feel his heart pounding against her palms, could hear the raw emotion in his voice. He was breaking, just like she was, and in that moment, all she could do was hold onto him, because despite everything, despite all the hurt and all the distance, she still loved him.

She always had.

Jenson leaned in, pressing his lips to her forehead, lingering there as if he could somehow kiss away all the pain, all the sadness that had built between them. His voice was barely above a whisper, broken and filled with remorse. “Please don’t give up on me. Please don’t give up on us.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart aching as his words sank in. She was exhausted, her soul worn thin from all the heartache, but standing there in his arms, feeling the tremble of his body as he cried, she knew that he meant every word. And despite the cracks in their relationship, despite everything that had gone wrong, she wasn’t ready to walk away either.

“I won’t,” she whispered through her tears, her voice shaking. “I won’t give up on you.”

Jenson let out a broken sob, pulling her even closer, his face buried in her neck. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice raw. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” she whispered back, her tears falling freely now as she clung to him, her heart aching with both the pain of what they had been through and the faint, fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.

[chvnnie]

Bro, fkn made me tear up while I'm in my PMS week Lawd have mercy.

Your response was so sweet,

Okay but what would happen if they reunited years later when he has had children?

Would that spark be there?

Would he avoid her?

Would she not want to see him with another woman?

Will they enjoy one final night together?

Decisions, decisions 🤔

do you guys enjoy seeing me suffer like—

blaming you for how much I love this fucking couple and the way I couldn’t stop writing this!!! AND I TRIED!!!

it’s long. im apologizing now.

SMUT — MINORS DNI

You never fell out of contact with Chan.

Well, maybe for a few months. When everything was still fresh. It hurt too much to even see his name in your contact list; talking to him would have shattered every atom inside you.

Everything stops hurting eventually. When he called you one day, exactly five months and three days after the world ended, the pain was almost numbed. As your phone vibrated in your hand, you realized it wasn’t what you were that you missed. It was him. Chan. Your best friend, even long before the two of you became one.

You answered. And suddenly the atoms started to bounce together, the world rebuilding from scratch.

The years passed. The planet flourished. Not a day went by without a word shared between the two of you. Weddings were held — Chan’s, insistent that you were always meant to be by his side. Begging you to be his “best woman”.

“You were always meant to be at my wedding.” He said after you denied the request over and over, a little tipsy on the bottle of wine you were sharing at his engagement party. “Please. It can’t happen without you.”

The thought was shared, but never spoken. Off to the side isn’t where either of you pictured your place in it.

Yours. A spur of the moment decision, overwhelmed from planning a party that neither you or your husband really wanted. A quick search proved that tickets to Vegas were far cheaper. A bottle of shitty champagne was shared over fast food burgers that really weren’t that filling.

Or, you tell yourself it was the burger.

Your best friend almost passed out at your monthly double date night. After the shock wore off, and after he chugged a glass or two of bourbon, he smile at you from across the table.

But it looks a little sad.

“I guess you can’t help your wants, huh?”

Other milestones passed. Big birthdays, new jobs and promotions, two babies for Chan, a dog for you. All was well; the sun shining, flowers blooming, the world finally stable again.

The first earthquake came the day of the youngest’s third birthday party.

You’re in Chan’s kitchen, digging through the adult cooler for the seltzers you brought. Did somebody drink them all? Ugh, you knew that fucking bitch from across the street was being a little too sneaky with her beverage. Wait until you hit her with that cash request after the party—

The backdoor opens quickly, two sets of feet rushing inside followed by a loud slam. You jump, quickly hiding in the pantry before they can make it into the kitchen.

“Will you just talk to me?” It’s Chan.

“How many times are you going to ask me about it?” His wife. “Fuck, can you just drop it—“

“I just think it’s pretty convenient that your boss brings up another business trip, just the two of you, today.”

Silence. A drawer slams.

“Are you really going to ruin your son’s party like this, Christopher?”

The snicker Chan gives raises the hairs on your arm. “Are you really going to keep pretending like you’re not fucking your boss?”

You have to clasp a hand over your mouth to silence the loud gasp that escapes you. It’s not like it was any secret that they’re having problems; he confided in you months ago that things have started to get rocky. Never, ever, did you expect this, though.

She storms out, saying something under your breath that you can’t hear. Door slams. Chan sighs into the empty kitchen, probably running his fingers through his hair if had to guess—

“I know you’re in there.” He sounds defeated. “You left your phone on the counter.”

Shit.

Slowly, you crack the door open, peeking out of the dark pantry. Your friend is leaning against the sink, arms crossed across his broad chest. There’s a small smile on his pain stricken face, eyes crinkling at the outer corners. Age treated him well.

“I wasn’t listening.”

“You’ve always been a terrible liar.”

You step out of the pantry fully, walking slowly up to your friend. There’s enough space next to him for you, which you take. Leaning side by side, staring out the large window at the party. It carries on; children laughing, eating cake. Parents chatting, chasing kids. All this joy on the other side of the thin glass, completely oblivious to the trembling beneath their feet.

You speak first. “How long have you known?”

“A while.” Chan takes a deep breath, trying to relax his shoulders. “I had hoped when she switched departments it would stop but…yeah.”

Outside the window, the curly haired boy turns in a circle. His little eyes are wide and bright, searching the crowd of grownups for a familiar face. His mom’s back is turned, he doesn’t see her. Though you’re sure he’s actually speaking, all you see is his mouth move.

Dada?

When he can’t find him, another name comes from his mouth. Scanning the sea of people for you.

The second quake comes three months later.

Chan and his wife are in therapy, and though all appears well, the cracks are deep. Wide. You can see right through the facade.

It’s cold outside. Even through your thick jacket, you can feel the heavy winter breeze. It freezes your nose, numbs your lips. You walk quickly, dog trotting alongside you in the same rush. The little boots he wears protects his paws, yet he still whimpers.

When was the last time Christmas Eve was this cold?

There’s a fire crackling when you open the front door, your dog barely off the leash before she barrels to it. Jumping on her little boots, trying to warm up.

“Fuck, it’s cold.” You curse, shedding the many layers you wore. “I literally thought I was going to get frostbite.”

Your husband doesn’t give more than a hum in acknowledgment, nose in his book. Plopping on the couch next to him, you lean in to give him a kiss.

And he moves away.

“All good?” The concern is heavy in your voice.

Nothing. Just a hum.

“Can I have a kiss?”

“I’m busy.”

“Reading. The same book you read every winter.”

It’s harsh, the way he slams the book shut. When he looks up at you, you can help but recoil. Scooting just a bit back from him. The look in his eyes is so…different.

“Can you just give me some fucking space? Please?” He doesn’t raise his voice, and that makes it all the more concerning. Scary. “God, you’re so clingy all the time.”

Oh. Your eyes drop, lips pressing into a thin line. Jeez, why does this cut so deep? It’s not the first time he’s said it to you.

“I guess—I just thought, since it’s Christmas—“

“Eve.” He’s annoyed. You awkwardly adjust yourself on the couch, bringing a sweater clad hand to your face to wipe the tears you can’t help. “Oh, please, stop crying. It’s not that deep.”

There’s a tree on the planet. It’s tall, home to leaves that change colors. Usually, it’s day by day, depending on the waves and the weather and the stars. All day they’ve been a sparkly light green. Peace. A good color.

But they’ve started to bleed, something dark taking over the peace just as the ground begins to break.

Your husband picks the book up. Not another word to you. Heart in your stomach, you head towards the staircase. “I’m going to bed.”

He doesn’t look up from the book. “Take your fucking dog with you.”

The most impactful quake comes a mere three weeks later.

You’re sat on the living room floor, a brush handled by a five year old girl roughly running through your hair. It stings a little, but there’s no point in stopping her. She’s too stubborn to listen.

“Why don’t you wear braids?” She asked in her little voice.

“Never thought about it.” You shrug.

She sighs as if this is the most awful thing you could’ve have told her. “But you would be a princess if you wore them!”

You turn your head slightly, looking up at the girl. Her eyes are her father’s, along with the exasperated look she’s giving you.

“Shit, really?”

You cringe at the word choice, but the little girl doesn’t even flinch.

“Yes.” She sighs. “Turn around, I help you.”

Can’t really argue with that. Right as you think she’s taken at least half of your hair, Chan comes into the living room. Headed straight for the front door.

“Alright, the youngest is asleep.” He’s reaching for his coat, checking his watch obsessively. He’s late. “Pizza is on the way, don’t let the monster stay up too late.”

Finger guns to his daughter, who just ignored him. Not amused with his stupid joke.

“I shouldn’t be long, maybe three hours tops.” Chan says to you. “Changbin has kids to get home to, so I’ll be back before you can miss me too much.”

You flip him off. The daughter follows.

“Okay, don’t like do that at school or anything-“

“We’ll be alright.” You say, trying to get him out the door. Things have been more tense that usual lately; it took all of Changbin’s energy to convince him to get a drink with him. Nothing is going to keep him in this house. “Don’t have too much fun.”

The smile he gives you is so genuine. Real happiness. It’s been a while since you’ve seen that.

The pizza? Mediocre at best. The movie she picked? You hate how invested you were in that storyline. It’s like you blinked and it was time for bed, helping the little girl into her bright blue sheets.

She picks the book for you to read. Four pages, and she’s snoring.

You’ve never liked kids. Never really wanted them, either. While you still hold these sentiments, it’s hard to not like her. Her brother. There’s something about them that’s different, tugging on your heart so hard you think it will pop out of your chest.

Kids are awful. But Chan’s? You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of.

She’s been asleep about thirty minutes. Mindlessly, you click through the tv channel, trying to decide on something. Barely nine in the evening, and there’s nothing to watch? That seems like a scam—

Bang. Thunder. Flashes of lightning. The world shaking harder than it has since it’s birth about ten years ago. Chan storms inside his home, the heavy footsteps making you jump.

“Fuck!” You cry, holding a hand over your heart as you try to catch your breath. “You scared me—“

“She’s not on a trip.” He’s tearing off his coat, kicking off his shoes. Slamming the keys and wallet on the coffee table.

The wheels are turning slowly, but when they click, you feel cold. A blizzard tumbling through the planet. “What?”

Everything was fine. Chan was happy, talking with Changbin and sharing shitty wings over even shittier beer. For a second, he forgot. Forgot about his wife and her affair, the therapy that he honestly felt was a waste of time. The divorce papers in the top drawer of his office, already signed and ready to be present when his wife gets back.

He just needed to pee. Walking towards the back of the crowded bar, he saw a set of eyes he knew too well. It brings him to a halt, looking right at his wife. Who is staring right back at him. With the arm of her boss around her shoulders.

“How many times has she said she was going to be gone, just to stay in town with him?” Chan asks, his voice rising as the storm gets heavier. “Does she not give a shit about our children—“

“Who are sleeping.” You add, grabbing your friend’s biceps and squeezing them tightly. He’s getting too worked up. The feelings he had for her are long, long gone. Buried so deep they’ll never be found.

He’s not mad about the cheating. He’s mad about how she’s abandoned the children.

Chan nods before he sits on the couch. Head hanging in his hands, nails scratching his scalp. Exhausted. Lonely. Broken.

“Why did I fucking marry her?”

You take a seat next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. Your best friend, your everything. Soulmates always seem like an unbelievable concept, until you met Chan. Without a doubt, he is one of yours.

Though, the universe still seems torn on the kind.

“She wasn’t always like this.” You reassure him. “Remember how hard you fell for her? It was really cute; you couldn’t stop talking about her. Nobody expected this, Chan.”

“I did.” When he looks at you, his eyes are dark. Wide. Solid, serious expression not waving even in the intense winds. “I always knew. She never loved me like I loved—“

The sentence isn’t finished. It doesn’t need to be.

Like that, the rain has stopped. Thunder silenced, sky dark. Time has been paused, standing still as you stare at each other in the dimly lit living room. It doesn’t feel like you’re breathing. Like anything is happening.

Except for a teeny, tiny spark. Rock against rock. Fire being invented once again.

Time resumes as Chan pulls you into his lap, lips colliding intensely. His tongue is heavy on yours, deeply kissing you as if to consume you. To make up for all the kisses that should have been.

This affair isn’t driven by hurt, by the agony caused at the hands of both your spouses. It isn’t jealousy, it isn’t hate. It’s a love that always was, always will, and was always meant to be at the core of the universe.

Even the apocalypse couldn’t destroy it.

Ten years. Ten years and Chan still knows how to touch you. The little place on your collarbone that turns you into jelly. How you love when he bites roughly on your nipples, the teasing of his fingers hooking under the waistband of your jeans.

“I hate that you got married in Vegas.” He says in a growl, lowering you onto the coffee table. “I hate that you didn’t fucking tell me until you got back.”

He yanks your jeans down, taking the soft cotton panties will them. Body bare for him once again.

“I hate that I wasn’t there.” The buttons become loose as he roughly takes his shirt off. He watches as your eyes travel, following his hands to the belt he’s pulling off. A familiar awe.

It’s cute. Sets his heart on fire in the best way possible.

Grabbing your chin, he tilts your head so you’re looking at him again.

“Pay attention to me when I talk to you, baby.” He says with a smile, wetting his lips before capturing yours again. “Don’t you want to know why I hated that so much?”

You blink slowly, giving a brief nod.

Hips against hips, the head of his cock works it’s way up and down your silt. A beautiful moan, a cold shiver. Everything falling into place as he lines himself up.

“Because I was going to say no.”

He doesn’t linger. Quickly, Chan buries himself inside you, fucking you with a passion you haven’t felt in years.

“How dare you-“ hands on either side of your head, he grips the coffee table for support. “—marry someone who isn’t me?”

You’re breathless. Jaw dropped, clinging onto his shoulders for dear life. It’s like no time has passed; fucking you like you need, like you deserve. Something only Chan has ever been able to do.

“You’re my girl, remember?” He grunts, eyes rolling back slightly when you clench around him. “How could you forget that?”

Shaking your head, your head rolls back. Full, wonderful moans like music to Chan’s ears.

“N-never did.” You admit, chest shaking with heavy breaths. “I’ve always been y-yours, Chan-“

When he kisses you, the world splits in two. Existence finally starting to make sense. Teeth and tongue, he loves you in the best way anyone ever has. Bodies becoming one, forces beyond your own making you whole once more.

He looks at you. Your heart skips a beat.

Has this world always been full of life, or is it all brand new? Could life exist without the two of you?

“Good.” Chan’s smile is like home. “Because I’ll never stop wanting you.”