#Time Flows Once Again (ic) ⧗

[clock-corpse]

"Draw me and give me big fangs~"

(bulletfestival)

Sakuya quickly draws on a large sheet of paper rather quickly, occasionally looking up from her canvas to look at the girl several times to make sure that she has the details right. Eventually, she scribbles something on the canvas with a pencil and turns to reveal her work to Rumia.

#ask #Time Flows Once Again (ic) ⧗ #bulletfestival #I tried to give the drawing a bit of a European style to it LOL #IF THAT MAKES SENSE

[queenpiranhadon]

𖤓⎸⎸ 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 ⎸⎸𖤓

A/N: You all voted on this poll, and this poll, and this poll, and after a LOT of voting, I present you this :) BIG thanks to @that-multi-fandom-hijabi for beta reading this go follow her writing acc rn (@novaaaaaa-writes). Here's my masterlist! Divider made by @cafekitsune

Warning(s): Enemies to lovers trope, mentions of burning, stabbing, blood, bad descriptions of both fire of water (ice, snow ?) bending, Zuko is whipped, just a little confused about it, reader is a baddie, water benders unite (not me tho), reader is GN but written with f!reader in mind, reader looks non-threatening, is underestimated a lot, this takes place at the end of season one, I think that's it

Pairing: Prince Zuko x GN!Reader

“You shouldn’t be here” you glare, your gaze sending shivers down his spine. 

But that could just be because of all the snow and ice surrounding the both of you. 

The fire prince remains unfazed though, his amber eyes sweeping over your form- assessing the threat you posed. 

He could take you down in seconds. 

Zuko doesn’t respond to your jab though, because he knew you were wrong. He had to be here, it was the only way he could finally receive his father’s favor- as the heir and as the son of Firelord Ozai. It was his duty, his honor. 

And he wasn’t going to let a non-threatening waterbender get in the way of that. 

Reaching back, he unsheathes his dual swords, the glint of the waning moonlight reflecting the dangerous glint in his eye. 

And yet you didn’t back down.  

Pooling some water from your waterskin, you assumed the stance you had trained yourself to take whenever you honed your skills. One with the water, one with the ice.  

‘Power should flow, not force itself” Master Pakku had told you once.  

People had always underestimated your skills, saying you were better suited for healing. But after showing Master Pakku how you could use your bending to control the falling snow around you, he gave you a chance.  

He had told you to let the power settle in your body before releasing, instead of forcing it out immediately. Conceal and then control. 

You met Zuko’s fiery gaze with an icy one of your own. You were going to protect your home.  

With a yell, you form flurries of snow, whipping around your form as you channel your strength to change the form of your flurry, snow turning to water, water turning to sharp daggers of pure ice.  

Zuko scowls, setting his hands ablaze and you run at each other, fire meeting ice.  

Time slows down, as the intensity of your elements picks up, until all you could hear was the steady thump – thump – thump – of your heart, and the roar of crystalline knives swirling around you. 

Flames lick the side of your leg, wincing as the raw burn of the fire sears through your skin in white-hot pain. Razor sharp icy shards cut into Zuko’s skin, finding chinks in his armor, piercing his flesh and drawing blood. 

The snow beneath the both of you was dotted red now, both of you staring at each other, panting heavily.  

“You really shouldn’t be here.” you repeat again, but this time, it was barely a whisper, swallowing down tears as the cold wind of the Northern Water Tribe stung your gaping wounds. 

Zuko growls, grunting in pain as he pulls a shard of ice out of his skin. “I don’t take orders from a little waterbender” he spat, venom dripping from his words. 

You reciprocate with a snide comment of your own. “This ‘little waterbender’ just sunk 5 icicles into your skin.” 

Zuko was just about ready to tear your head off, hands igniting with vermillion flames before you collapse, the burns along your thigh and calf were much more severe than either of you realized.  

You choke out a sob of pain but keep your control of the water left in your waterskin. You couldn’t die, not today, and not at the hands of the prince of the Fire Nation.  

Zuko’s heart throbs unexpectedly, the look on your face too familiar for comfort. The face of someone who worked so desperately hard, only for all that effort to go down the drain. But he didn’t care for you. He couldn’t- couldn’t grow attachment to a non-threatening waterbender. Yet you sat there on the snow, dotted with blood, with that raw look in your eyes. His flames extinguished, without him meaning to.  

You flinched as he threw his swords down frustrated, impaling themselves into the nearby snow mound, standing straight up. 

He stomps over to you, and you frantically move back, but your leg flares up in pain again, and you yelp, hissing in pain. 

“Stop moving, you’ll make it worse.” he says, glaring at you, but not as intensely as he had before.  

You want to scream, kick him, punch him, anything, but your body betrays you as he sweeps you up into his arms, carrying you to the nearest place he can find, where he can keep you safe. You feel his strong arms hook under your knees and under your back, holding you securely to his firm chest. Even through his armor, he radiates warmth, a gentle heat, unlike the flames he threw at you merely minutes ago.  

He hates this, with every fiber in my being, his voice screaming at him to drop you and burn your frail body to a crisp, vengeance for the blood dripping from his own body, but he keeps moving, step after painstaking step. 

You try to stay awake, you really do, yet channeling so much energy from your battle, the numb throb in your lower leg, and the comforting heat radiating off the fire prince who refuses to look at you, you slip into unconsciousness.  

Zuko feels a weight press against his chest, and he huffs, honey-colored eyes catching onto the details of your face, the curve of your nose, the apples of your cheeks, the slight pout of your lips as you nuzzle into his armor unintentionally, how pretty you were when you were at peace. 

He stops himself there, reprimanding himself for thinking such things. He can’t have feelings for the enemy. 

And yet, even as he and his troops head home, battle wearing and dejected from the loss of a major battle, Zuko can’t help but think about his little waterbender.  

*** 

When you wake up, the kind woman tending to you tells you all about the mysterious and handsome man who carried your sleeping form across the entire Northern Water Tribe because he didn’t know where the healing center was.  

#zuko x reader #zuko x you #atla zuko #fire lord zuko #prince zuko #zuko #avatar of the last airbender #atla #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko x you #prince zuko x y/n #water bender reader #help 'power should flow not force itself'?? #I have mixed thoughts about this #zuko x y/n #avatar the last airbender #zuko avatar #zuko avatar the last airbender #the cloud archives ☁️

[notjustjavierpena]

Candy

A/N: A shameless addition to the DILF!Joel universe. This is PWP, enjoy!

Summary: Another sexcapade in Joel’s bed. Lazy day filled with sex.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), PIV sex, unprotected sex, riding, face-sitting, fingering, pussy-eating, dirty talk, Joel smacks your ass, reader is a little insecure about her body

Word count: 2.2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48297466

Candy

Sometimes you and Joel sneak off to your house, telling everyone that you’re going grocery shopping or something just as mundane, just to get it on like teenagers in your still new bed. Sometimes, when Sarah is at a friend’s house, you have Joel’s house to yourself. This time is the latter, and you feel grateful for the lack of a time frame for your sexcapades. 

It gives Joel time to really warm you up, take his time, go slow, then fast and then slow again. It’s times for living off of bottled water, ice cream from the tub and having multiple orgasms, placing the tub between your thighs to enjoy the cool it radiates as it soothes your spent cunt. 

You’re sitting in Joel’s bed like this now; legs spread out in front of you, tub of strawberry ice cream between your thighs and Joel cross-legged in front of you, one hand on each of your shins, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs into your calves. You’ve been screwing for hours by now. 

You feed him a spoonful, practically glowing with all the dopamine flowing through you from your brain to your body. Your heart rate is slightly elevated too but it could be just from looking at him; broad shoulders, naked chest and black boxers. His hair is a mess from how many times you’ve carded your fingers through it, but you swear that you like it much better this way. 

“You okay?” He asks after swallowing, reaching for the bottle of water on his night stand. He takes a large sip, offers it to you but you shake your head.

“Fine, just horny and tired… sore,” you say the last word with a smirk whilst digging out the last few bites from the ice cream tub, scraping thoroughly along the sides. You set the empty container aside, “I’ll get a tummy if we keep spending time like this between fucking though.”

“I’d like you even more with a cute little belly,” Joel rolls his eyes at your self-deprecating comment, yanks a little at your legs to signal what he wants; you scoot forward on your bottom to sit closer to him and drape your legs over his hips. He reaches up to cradle your face, pulls you in for a kiss that’s cold from the strawberry ice cream. 

“Yeah? You would like that?” You smile against his mouth, and he places his palms on the globes of your ass and drags you flush against him until you’re chest to chest. 

“I’d fucking love it,” he rasps before he devours your mouth once more. He tastes deliciously sweet of strawberries and cream, making you lick into his mouth with a newfound passion for making out. You suck at his tongue to make him growl for more, spurring him on to hoist you up into his lap until he can slide underneath your body so you’re straddling him.

“Up. Guess ice cream wasn’t enough,” he says with a pat to your lower back, hinting with his eyes whilst pushing you forward. You know what that means, swallowing thickly before crawling forwards, past his chest until you’re hovering your naked pussy above his face. 

You find yourself trembling and use the headboard to steady yourself, feeling Joel’s breath against your cunt and the way it hitches when you look down to find his eyes. You have wanted to ride his face all day, wondering when you’d be desperate enough for it to ask but this is perfect. He is perfect.

“Sit, and don’t take those eyes off me. Want to see you come,” he commands and when you don’t instantly follow orders, he curls two strong hands around your thighs and yanks you down onto his mouth. You take a proper seat, his tongue along your slit and his nose against your clit. It earns him a long, shaky and dragged-out moan. 

Whilst looking down at him, you start to feel the first movements of his slick tongue. It slides between your folds, picks up your arousal on its way before wiggling slightly. Joel tenses it up until he can slip the tip of the muscle inside of you, fucking your cunt open in the most obscene way. You’re dripping onto his mouth and chin, wetting his scruff. 

“Fuck, baby,” you moan softly, staring down into his darkened eyes and starting to grind down on the arch of his nose. Occasionally, the tip of his nose catches on your clit and nearly has you flying forwards, “Fuck, fuck, hah, fuck Joel.”

He bobs his head too to grind his face into you, determined to not let you do all the work despite how much you know he loves when you use him. His tongue slips from you, and you can feel spit and slick drip from you and add to the shine that’s already on his face.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby,” he mutters underneath you and makes your pussy clench in interest of more, “Fuckin’ love when she gushes on my face.”

Joel’s hands push you around after that, steers you with little care, seeming merciless in his state of hunger, until he can lap directly on your clit before closing his lips around it. Oh God, you think, he is determined today.

Your hands grip harder at the headboard, turning your knuckles white when he sucks hard enough to cause just a little pain amongst all the pleasure. It makes your eyes flutter closed, thighs shake and mouth hanging open in a silent moan. 

With a crack, one of his hands comes down onto the fleshiest part of your ass in a stinging smack. Your eyes fly open in surprise and you moan pathetically as you feel your pussy clamping down on nothing. 

“I told you to look at me,” he says, releasing you with a pop and relenting for a moment to speak, “Keep those eyes on me while I eat your pretty pussy.” 

“Yes— s-sorry, Joel, please,” you release the headboard carefully, but only to slide your fingers through his hair instead, ready to yank, “It won’t happen again, baby. Please. Make me come on your face.”

Joel lets out a pleased sigh as you scratch your nails through his hair. 

“Is this okay, baby?” You ask sweetly, referring to your fingers in his hair, but also starting to move on his mouth again. 

Joel spanks you again without warning. It stings more this time, but he is back to eating you out before you have time to react, and, additionally, whatever smart thing you want to say disappears from your mind as you lose the connection between your brain and your mouth. It’s all gibberish. 

You feel the hand on your ass slide down between your thighs which are shaking at this point, giving him signs of how close you are. He slips a finger inside your cunt, adding a second one only after a few pumps, working you from the outside and the inside. 

It’s too much when he rubs against your g-spot, curling his fingers as if to coax your orgasm to come. You yank his hair then, coming on his mouth with a sob and forcing yourself to stare down into his eyes despite wanting to squeeze your own shut. It feels so good. You clamp down on his fingers and Joel holds them still against your g-spot, sucking your relentlessly throbbing clit through your high. 

With ragged breath, you push yourself off of him and he lets you. You scoot back to sit in his lap, wet and spent cunt soaking through the fabric of his boxers when you settle there. It takes you a moment to find his gaze again, too busy with feeling his generous, but unfortunately clothed, length against you. Soon, you remind yourself.

Though when you see his whole face again, you gasp audibly; Joel’s eyes are hazy, satisfied and black with desire. His chin, nose and mouth are covered with your slick to the point where he is pornographic to look at, but the best thing is the boyish grin that he sports. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” you scold playfully, placing your palms on his chest and scratching a little. 

“You taste like fucking candy,” he licks his lips for show, then sucks the fingers that he has had inside of you clean one by one. It makes you impatiently squirm in his lap. 

“Better than strawberry ice cream?” You ask, scooting down even further to tuck at the hem of his boxers and reveal his cock, now an angry red color from being neglected too long. You are too lazy to take his underwear all the way off, settling the hem below his balls.

“Better than strawberry ice cream,” he repeats to confirm, looking down at where your hands are now stroking him lazily, “You already ready for more? Greedy of you.”

“Greedy for you, you mean, Mr. Miller,” you correct him and get onto your knees, moving until you feel the head of his cock, slick with precome, nudge at your slit. 

The boyish grin fades with that comment, followed by a soft sigh and then Joel’s jaw goes slack as you start sinking down. He places his hands on your hips once more, thumbs pressing down into your hip bones to angle your pelvis.

“Fuck, right there…” You groan, leaning your head back a little as the tip of his dick pokes against your g-spot. You bottom out and it’s amazing to feel your sensitive walls stretched out around his cock, sucking him in the rest of the way with how wet he has made you. When you’ve gotten used to him, you lift yourself up to sink back down again, but just once, wanting him to lose control with you, smack your ass again, “Want me to come on your cock too? Mouth not enough?”

“You better, sweetheart, m-mouth ain’t never enough— oh fuck, I want you to milk my come into your tight cunt,” his eyes glaze over as you start up the first rolls of your hips, drawing a relieved moan from the man’s throat. He has been so good at waiting for you, so you start up a rhythm that is anything but teasing to reward his patience. 

When you have him panting underneath you, you decide to take it even further and put on a show for him. You bounce in his lap, your hands going up your body to squeeze your own tits. You press them together as you ride him in earnest, then release them with a moan and catch him hungrily watching as they bounce back into place. 

“Fuck, baby,” you keen when his hips snap up into yours for the first time. He grips your fleshy thighs heatedly, smacks them, forces you down on his dick every time you lift yourself off. You reward him with a chant of his name, breathless and bordering on religious worship, “God, you fuck me so well. Joel. Make me come.” 

He suddenly sits up and keeps you moving in unison, cups your jaw and pulls your mouth towards his own with desperation in the noises he makes for you. It’s generous to call it a kiss as it is rather a filthy clash of teeth and tongues. You try to say his name again, but he eats it from your hungry mouth, right off your tongue, before you manage to get it out. 

When he pulls away to suck in a much-needed breath, you lean back in his lap and reach behind yourself to rest a hand on his thigh. It makes you able to speed up, grind against his pelvis and gain stimulation to your clit that sends sparks throughout your lower body. 

“Come for me,” he says lowly, one arm wrapping around your waist to support you and the other groping your ass obscenely. He smacks it again, and your orgasm ripples through your body in the next moment and has you keening loudly, “Thaaaat’s it… Attagirl, there you are.” 

You clench rhythmically around Joel’s dick and there are a few more snaps of his hips before he pushes up into you and pulls you down onto him simultaneously. He lets out a groan from the back of his throat, spilling inside of you and causing you to gasp pathetically at the feel of warmth spreading inside your pussy.

“You’ve got me spellbound, baby,” he rests his head against your shoulder when he dares speak again.

“Yeah? Changed your life with this pussy?” You tease, voice exhausted. You can feel him smile against your skin. 

“Possibly,” he moves slowly and then pulls out of you with a grunt. He lies down again, pulling you down with him by your upper arm until you are lying with your face in the crook of his neck, giggling softly.

“We should order pizza for dinner,” you think out loud.

“Didn’t you just complain about getting a tummy?” Joel rolls his eyes but reaches to sprawl a hand over your stomach, “Women.” 

“You said you’d love me with a tummy,” you argue with a playful slap to his chest but making up for it by kissing along his jaw, “That may be a good enough reason for me.”

“Pizza then.”

“I’ll just buy bigger jeans.”

.

.

.

Taglist: @queerponcho

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel x you #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #my writing #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfic #dilf!joel

[euphoricfilter]

standing next to you:

pairing: dancer! jungkook x f. reader

genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || strangers to somewhat lovers

summary: with all those eyes on him, he only had eyes for you

word count: 4k

tags/ warnings: infidelity (womp womp), m/c has a crusty rich old bitch of a husband, smut in the forms of: dom! jungkook, who is a little condescending (because we all know i like that), subby! reader, semi-public sex?, oral (fem. receiving), unprotected sex, the pull out method (womp womp), multiple orgasms, cum marking? jungkook has a dick piercing!!!! lets goooo!!!!

notes: yippee jungkook gave me another smut idea. kinda half edited so if there’s mistakes then no there isn’t <\3

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

It couldn’t have been more than half a second, Jungkook’s eyes catching yours for the briefest moment as the spotlights dance over the crowd, what could have been mistaken for the galaxy reflected in your irises as you look at him.

The eyes that told a story of worship, how his mere existence was a crazed phenomenon your brain was barely able to process as you follow his body across the stage.

For months now, he would catch glimpses of you, always sat at the same table with the same people. Never once talking to them as your focus lays solely on him as he dances on stage.

Your face is soon veiled by one of his back-up dancers, flicker of a moment gone. Whatever was there, a short spark of interest simmering out as your face is no longer in his line of sight. Buzz of something a little more snapped, dissolving into fine dust under the orange hue of the light.

There was such innocent wonder in your eyes as your gaze flickers across the stage, entirely enamoured by what lay before you. The theatre nothing like you had ever seen before, ever so extravagant, and elegant. Male dancers dominating the stage, flowing as if they were dancing on ice, so free-spirited in the ways their bodies move.

Constant stimuli of such an event scratching the back of your mind—the way Jungkook moves enough for you to drown out the rest of the chatter behind you, your existence nothing to any of these people.

Your heart hammers in time with the base that tickles the bottom of your feet, broaches on the dancers’ jackets star-like as the spotlight finds its place back on stage, Jungkook’s face soon illuminated again. Face sculpted, a gift from the high heavens, a man that captures the hearts of many, man and woman alike.

He wonders if your eyes remain on him, bright with wonder as he glides across the stage, trying his hardest to find your eyes behind the harsh glare of the lights, sat ever so pretty, the prettiest little thing he’d ever seen.

It’s only when the lights dim does he see the hand on your thigh, silver band of a wedding ring sat one of the fingers.

Though you don’t seem to notice, entirely focused on the stage you don’t seem to realise when your husband squeezes your thigh, entirely unaware when he pushes his chair back to stand up. Ignorant to the fact that he saunters over to another woman a couple of tables behind where you’re sat.

Left alone in the company of your husband’s friends, who have no means to talk to you, nor acknowledge your existence. Because who would talk to the wife of the man who clearly has no care for what should be his lover? And as much as you pretend to not notice, never once asking why he gets home so late, or the messages that flash across the screen of his phone, never once have you brought it up.

Because that wasn’t your job. You weren’t there to care, to worry about who got your husband’s dick wet or who was stuffed full of his cum, who had it dripping down their legs when he re-emerges after you hadn’t seen him for what felt like hours. You were there to look pretty, and to smile at any man that gives you attention, nothing more and nothing less.

Jungkook thinks you must be the first to stand on your feet once the performance is over, eager in your applause. Too shy to meet his eyes from where he looks down at you from the stage, but not enough to not show your appreciation for his art. Glittery shimmer of the dim light illuminating you, stood centre of the room, awe reflected from your face as you quickly glance up to look at him before the curtain lowers.

So many minutes of your life stolen by him, perfect in the way his body moved, moments you never wish you get back because you wished to watch him dance forever.

Your eyes flit down to the sliver of stomach that peeks from beneath his blazer when he raises his arms at the applause.

You swallow at the deep rumble of his voice as he thanks the crowd, turning to thank the back-up dancers too before he’s facing you again, hint of a smile on his face as he takes one final bow. The curtains falling from the ceiling, your hair tickling your neck at the short gust of wind it produces.

It takes a moment for you to gather yourself, mind reeling as you glance around the room. Entirely isolated, even with hundreds of people surrounding you.

You can’t see where your husband had wandered off to, swallowing down any apprehension you have as you sit back down, fingers gentle as they pick up the flute of champagne—too expensive for your tastes, and you hate to think just how much it costs. Much rather having the host spend that sort of money on the reason for this evening than wowing guests with expensive alcohol and high-end food. Because surely the fund raiser would fare better with all that money than the pompous assholes that laughed in the face of the less fortunate.

You almost jump out of your seat when a heavy hand lands on your shoulder, eyes wide as your tilt your head upwards to see who it could be. Heart hammering when your eyes meet Jungkook’s, flickering across his face.

You swallow, “Hi” you breathe, turning your body to face him a little better.

The corners of Jungkook’s lips curl up into a smile, piercings catching the light, “What’s a pretty girl doing sitting alone?”

He pulls out an empty chair beside you, your head flickering across all the empty chairs around the table, wondering where all your husband’s friends had gone.

“Oh just…” you start, turning back to look at him, words dissolving on your tongue when your eyes meet his.

He raises an eyebrow, leaning back in the chair a little, legs spread wide. His eyes flicker down to the ring on your finger.

“I thought your performance earlier was amazing” you rush, hands running over your silk dress. Perfect change of conversation.

Jungkook leans a little closer to you, reaching across the table a little to grab your glass of champagne. Your eyes stay trained on his lips as they wrap around the rim of the glass, breath catching in the back of your throat as he downs the rest of your drink.

“I don’t think I ever caught your name?” he urges, eyes sharp as they flicker across your face.

“Y/n” you breathe, “and you are…”

“Jungkook” he holds out his hand for you to shake. You take it, toes curling, imaginary electric current slipping down your body at his gentle touch.

“I could show you backstage if you like?” he offers, hands smothering down the imaginary creases in his suit, nodding towards the stage, “It’s pretty nice back there”

You glance over your shoulder, eyes scanning the room for a moment before you’re looking back at Jungkook nodding, “I would like that” you murmur, taking his hand when he offers it to you. He tugs you a little closer to his side once you’ve stood up, linking your arm with his as he walks the both of you around the maze of tables.

Not once does it cross your mind that all the people in the room can see you clinging onto another man, eyes glued to the side of his face as you paint a picture of him in your mind. After so many months of watching him perform on stage, a perfect entity so far out of reach, he was not stood beside you. Warm flesh radiating underneath his suit jacket, scar on his cheek deepened from the overhead lights, calloused hand holding yours.

Someone that had felt entirely unhuman, so long of yearning, but there he was, touching you like it were nothing and he weren’t one of your dreams. Silly little fantasies of a man that should never be yours, dreams of what days would be like with someone like Jungkook. Dreams that should have never been yours to begin with, not while the slippery claws of the law tie you to another man.

Jungkook, ever the gentleman, helps you up the stairs backstage. Narrow hallway entirely empty as he flicks the light on, “It’s truly wonderful back here” he tells you, not letting go of your hand once.

You look around in awe, head turning to look over the outfits hung on clothes racks as you walk by.

“We can order food in my dressing room? I assume you haven’t eaten yet and I don’t think they plan to bring dinner out for a while longer” he tells you, pulling a set of keys out the front pocket of his jacket, opening the door with ease.

“I am a little hungry” you hum, stepping into the dressing room, sitting on one of the couches when he motions for you to make yourself comfortable.

Your eyes flicker towards the door when he locks it, apprehension clawing its way up your body.

“Jungkook…?” you ask, gaze never leaving the lock, even as he slinks towards you, long steps across the room having him in front of you in no time.

“You’re tense” he sits beside you, hand running down the length of your arm, “Let me fix that”

You don’t miss the dark haze in his eyes, cunt clenching at the mere thought of a man of his calibre wanting you in any sort of way.

You swallow, eyes glancing down at his lips then back up to his eyes, “We can’t” you whisper.

“Why’s that?” he murmurs, fingers training over your thighs, silk dress soft under his fingertips.

“Because…” you start, swallowing down a whimper when his fingers graze your warm skin.

“Because” he urges, teasing as he inches his fingers that little big higher.

“Because my—” you swallow, Jungkook’s scoff cutting you off.

“Because of your incompetent husband?”

You tongue wets your bottom lip, fingers clenching by your side, “Yes” your voice breathless.

“Leave him” Jungkook groans, hand tugging yours closer to him, slipping the wedding ring off your finger.

You watch as he holds it, prickle of guilt building within your chest at the fact you don’t feel bad in the slightest for what you want from Jungkook, nor the fact he holds a symbol of love and you can only wish for him to take it forever, no longer yours. No longer a burden you wish to carry.

He slips it into the pocket of his jacket, leaning forward enough for the tip of his nose to kiss yours, short huff of a breath slipping past his lips. He tilts his head a little, gentle hesitation tugging at his body; leeway for you to pull away and stop this whenever you want.

You let out a shaky breath, fingers curling into the collar of his jacket, tugging him towards you. A groan catches in the back of his throat when your lips collide with his, desperate need radiating from every pore of your electrified body—tongue prodding at his bottom lip.

“My darling” he breathes in the brief moment you part, though he wastes no time tilting your head backwards that little bit as he kisses you again.

You hum against his lips, eyes slipping shut as his hands wander the length of your body, thumbs digging into your hips, down the length of your thighs until he’s tugging at the hem of your dress.

Your pussy clenches as his fingers inch that little bit higher, moan caught by Jungkook as he ghosts over tender skin, pulling the fabric higher and higher until he’s brushing his knuckles over your panties. Damp beneath his fingers as he presses through your covered folds, your hips bucking upwards when he nudges your clit.

A breathy laugh is pulled from him as you rock forward a little, chasing the pleasure as he presses his thumb a little harder against your clit.

“Pretty girl” he murmurs, hand slipping from between your legs to tug at your dress, pulling it up and over your head.

Your arms fold over your bare chest, Jungkook’s tongue wetting his bottom lip as his eyes rake down the length of your body, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs.

“How beautiful” he says, bending down a little to press a gentle kiss over your collar bone. His hands leaving your thighs to tug your arms away from your chest, guttural groan vibrating from his chest.

You let out something similar to a squeak when he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, goosebumps prickling up the skin of your arms at the flash of pleasure that shoots down your spine as his teeth graze over the sensitive skin.

Slick leaks into your panties as your hand grazes over the evident erection that strains behind the expensive fabric of his pant, cock twitching beneath the tips of your fingers as you squeeze his length.

“Want you” he ruts his hip upwards into your hand, tongue flat over your tits before he sucks at your warm skin, red blossoming with every mean little nip of his teeth. Claim of your body as his, evidence of his lust and your leaking pleasure that pools between your legs.

“You have me” you breathe, fiddling with the button of his dress pants, stumbling over yourself a little as he helps you lay back on the couch. He tugs your panties down your thighs, bottom lip tucking between his teeth as he watches the string of arousal that connects the cotton to your sodden pussy, all puffy and pretty. Clit erect and desperate, moan slipping off your lips when he leans down to press a kiss to the swollen little nub, pocketing your panties in his jacket.

“Jungkook” you moan, fingers digging into his hair, pulling him further into your pussy, hips rolling up into his face as he lays his tongue flat for you to ride.

He tugs down his pants and underwear just under his straining cock as you use him to get yourself off, shameless in your own pleasure as he moans into your pussy—incoherent whisper of how good you taste drowned out by the slick sound of your folds parting, fingers prodding at your entrance before sinking between your walls.

You clench around the intrusion, fingers tightening their hold on Jungkook’s hair as you moan out his name, mind nothing but lust filled mush, pleasure coursing through every inch of your body as he sucks on your clit.

“Gonna cum” you moan, fingers tugging at your nipples. Hiccup of his name catching in your throat at a particularly hard suck, thick fingers curling right over your sweet spot.

He presses a second finger into your, incessant nudge against your insides sending you reeling over the edge. A cry falling from your lips as you reach your peak, hips still rutting up into Jungkook’s mouth as you ride your high.

“Good girl” he murmurs against your pussy, fingers slipping out of you so he can drink down your release. Tip of his tongue pressing past your entrance to take whatever your body has to give him, cum coated fingers pressing slightly over your still buzzing clit, fiery pleasure thrumming beneath your skin.

“S’ too much” you whine, pushing his head from between your legs, sheen of your arousal coating his mouth and chin shiny.

Your eyes flicker down when something shiny catches the light, and they widen slightly when you see his hand wrapped around his thick cock, thumb running over the king’s crown piercing.

“Oh” you murmur, pussy clenching at the prospect of him being inside of you.

Jungkook hums, fingers squeezing tighter around his length, “You like it, baby?”

You swallow, tongue running over your bottom lip.

You nod, legs falling open a little wider for him, “Want it” you mumble, fingers parting your folds, silent invitation for him to split you open, fuck and fill you until you’re nothing than a pile of pleasure.

“Yeah?” his lips curl at the corners, hint of a smile showing.

“Mhmm” you nod, and his eyes catch sight of your cunt clenching.

“What do we say when we want something, baby?” he urges, scooting between your legs, pressing his cockhead through your folds, watching your hips jolt at the gentle stimulation to your clit.

You arch your back, dribble of slick caught by the tip of his cock as he slicks his length up with your arousal.

“Please, Jungkook” you breathe, “Please I need you”

“So good for me” he groans, thumb pressing just under his piercing, pressing his cock into you.

Your mouth falls open into a silent moan, ache throbbing down your length as his cock splits you open.

“Good girl” he murmurs, stomach tensing when you clench around his cock, piercing dragging deliciously against your walls.

“So good” you moan, hands finding his hips to pull him further inside of you, desperate for every agonising inch he had.

He holds himself inside of you, pelvis flushed with the backs of your thighs as he helps you rest your legs around his waist.

“Yeah, you feel good, baby?” he leans down, lips pressing against your jaw, fingers sinking into the flesh of your hips, gently rutting his cock into you, “Better than your husband could ever make you feel, yeah?”

He lets out a breathy laugh when he feels you clench around his girth, thighs twitching at his words.

“Come on baby, tell me how much better I make you feel” he taunts, dragging an inch of his cock out of you, distressed whine tumbling past your lips as your pussy clenches, trying to pull his cock back into you.

“Tell me” one of his hands takes hold of your jaw, tugging your face so your eyes meet his, “Tell me”

“You make me feel better than he does” you mumble.

“Louder” he shakes your head a little.

“You make me feel better” you say a little louder, chest tightening.

“Than who?” he urges, thumb running over your bottom lip, pressing into your mouth and over your tongue.

“My husband” you slur, mouth tugged open by his thumb.

“And who do you belong to?”

You blink up at Jungkook, drool gathering in the corners of your lips, such a pretty little thing. Ever so messy and desperate, awfully cute if you asked Jungkook.

“Who?”

You swallow, pussy clenching, “You”

“Mmhmm” he hums, “that’s right, all mine”

You rut your hips upwards, clit dragging against his stomach, thrum of pleasure making your toes curl, eyes still trained on Jungkook as you try and get yourself off.

He tugs at the corner of your mouth, thumb pressing into your cheek, watching as the skin bulges. And he wonders briefly what you’d look like with his cock stuffed in your mouth, pretty eyes blinking up at him like they did when he performed on stage; like he held all the secrets to the world in the palms of his hands. Those same hands that would smother your body with his love, dimpling pretty skin and pulling you back onto his cock.

“Jungkook” you whine, hips rutting a little more desperately, so needy for a second orgasm.

“A needy little thing, that’s what you are” his lips curl into a smile, thumb falling from your mouth as his hips pull backwards, your thighs quivering at the drag of his piercing inside of you.

He pulls out until the tip, hands tugging your thighs open a little wider before he’s snapping back into you, relentless as he picks up his pace. He holds you by the backs of your knees, angling your body that little bit off the couch, cockhead pressing against your sweet spot with every rough jab back into you.

“Shit, that’s good” he groans, wet smack back into you echoing off the walls of the dressing room.

You moan a staccato of his name, nothing but how good his cock fills you up in your mind, so entirely full of Jungkook in every respect of the word.

He doesn’t slow down, rhythmic with every thrust back into you, pussy clenching as your fingers slide down the length of your body, pressing over your sensitive clit.

“I’m close” you moan, free hand dragging down the length of his arm, grabbing at the fabric of his suit as your back arches.

“Come for me, baby” he groans, “Make a mess of my cock”

Your hand slips from his arm, grabbing hold of your chest as you continue to flick your clit, moan catching in the back of your throat as you slip head first into your orgasm.

Jungkook watches your face contour in pleasure, snapping his cock into you sloppy. He twitches between your walls, fingers digging into you a little harder, staving off his orgasm for as long as he can while you ride out your high, mind so far gone, eyes glazed over as you look up at him.

“That’s it, baby” his voice is gruff, pressing his cock against your sweet spot, your hips jolting, pleasure slipping into odd tingly overstimulation as he ruts into you, your fingers still pressing over your clit.

Jungkook moans, cock slipping out of you, his hand quick to wrap around his length. Slick noise reverberating in your ears as he brings himself over the edge, angling his cock so his cum paints your stomach. Thick string of white coating your skin, spurts of it shooting out of his cock. His stomach tenses, eyes slipping shut as he squeezes his cockhead, final spurt of his seed slipping just over your clit, joining the wet mess of your cunt as it slips down your folds.

“That’s a good girl” he groans, letting go of his softening cock.

He looks at you down the length of his nose, watching as you smear his cum over your skin, absolutely fascinated as it clings to your fingers.

His cock stirs in interest when you dip your fingers into your mouth, tongue licking up his release.

“You little minx” he laughs, bringing your legs back down, bending to press a kiss to your cum stained lips.

Your eyes slip shut as he kisses you, any tension left in your body dissolving as his tongue licks up his own release from your lips.

“Leave him” Jungkook murmurs, mouth hovering over yours, eyes still closed as the both of you bask in your afterglow. Skin sweat tacky, cooling slowly as his fingers dance over your skin, final humming of pleasure beneath your skin fizzling away.

“I can’t” you breathe.

“Run away then” he says, “with me”

Your eyes slip open, hand holding Jungkook’s jaw.

“Jungkook” you warn.

“What?” he mumbles, eyes slipping open to meet your own, “We can go somewhere far, he won’t find you… he won’t find us”

You wet your bottom lip, mind reeling as you weigh out your options.

“He doesn’t love you” his thumb runs over your cheek.

“I know” you whisper, eyes flickering between his, “But do you?”

Jungkook swallows, “Not as much as I want to, but that doesn’t mean what I’m feeling isn’t love”

You glance over at the clock on the wall, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as silence stretches out between the both of you.

You let out a long sigh, “We have an hour at most… before he’ll come looking”

Jungkook can’t help the smile that tugs onto his lips, “Then we should get going?”

The corners of your own lips tug upwards, “Yes… I suppose we should” you say, taking the hand he offers to help you sit up.

“Don’t make me regret this” you warn him as you slip your dress over your head, cringing at the drying cum that clings to your skin.

“I won’t” he promises.

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #bts non idol au #bts

[sorrowfulrosebud]

Hi! I have a request.

Okay so 1-A bakugou end’s up to the future. Where he sees that he has a family with reader and sees what a simp he will become🫣

And how would future bakugou and reader (+ the kids) react to meeting him.

(You can choose if past bakugou knows reader or not)

I’m sorry if it’s confusing,

It was safe to say that Katsuki was beyond pissed. He was certain that at this point he was never going to fully get your attention, not with that damned Todoroki always swooping in before he can even look your way.

==================================

The cacophony of grunts from the students plundered against the walls of Gym Gamma. It was self-improvement day and Aizawa was NOT letting anyone rest.

“Keep it up class. Those who fail to break some sort of barrier today will receive double homework for a week. I’m looking at you, Kaminari,” Aizawa grinned evilly. You let out a giggle at Kaminari’s audible gulp before Aizawa shot you a glare.

Katsuki was busy increasing the flow of his AP shot; he thought that if he could increase his sweat, he could increase the speed of which the blasts sped out. The poor rock he was blasting was finally on its last legs, all before that IDIOT Kaminari accidentally bumped into him and caused a rockslide, directly above the platform that you were training on.

“Hey, watch!-” he yelled in a panic. He saw fear flash through your eyes as he willed his body to move. Thankfully for you and begrudgingly for him, a smooth glacier of ice barricaded you from being concussed with Bakugou’s debris.

Todoroki hopped his way from his platform to you and placed his hand on your shoulder.

“Are you alright? You aren’t hurt are you?” Todoroki asked, examining your head for injuries. You shook him off you with a nervous smile.

“Thank you for stopping the debris Todo, but I’m fine. It was shock, I’m not hurt,” you reassured him gently. Todoroki gave you another once over before seeing where the damage came had arrived from.

“I would recommend being more careful next time, Bakugou. Someone could have gotten really hurt,” Todoroki gave him a meaningful glare as Katsuki fought every vein pop in his neck at his implications. Kaminari let out a guffaw, before he let out a squeak of terror at the animalistic look on Katsuki’s face.

“Laugh. Again. I. Freakin’. Dare. You,” he strained angrily through gritted teeth.

“O-okay Kaachan!” Kaminari speedily ran away from the threat as Katsuki stared at the back of your head. Well, now he was in a bad mood.

==================================

Katsuki was the first one in the changing room, and the first one out. He trudged his way to the UA dorms so he could shower and forget the whole day. He couldn’t stand the idea of being teased right now, not when he was so careless to the point that you nearly got concussed. Well, that never would have happened if Dunce Face watched where he was going…

Katsuki was torn from his thoughts as he barged past another student.

“Hey, watch where you’re fucking!-”

And just like that, Katsuki fell to the ground.

==================================

It took Katsuki a long time to start stirring from his sleep. It was a gradual process, but somehow he managed to tear the sleep from his body as he was poked and shaken incessantly by someone. Katsuki jumped up immediately in surprise, throwing a blast at his assailant. His assailant was no match for him though, springing back and using their quirk to restrain him.

Katsuki wiggled in his restraints like a wild animal, snapping and snarling.

“What the hell do you want with me you bastards! Let me the hell go or I’ll fucking kill you!” He snarled with purpose. A soft giggle filled his ears. A familiar giggle.

Soft (S/C) skin filtered through his still blurry vision until he saw… you.

You were at least a good 20 years older, some laughter lines he didn’t remember seeing (not that he definitely doesn’t scan you every time you’re close to him), as well as new scars.

Your eyes had aged too, the bags slightly more prominent but you were still you. You had four small children gathered around the bed gawking at the teen. The smallest was in your lap, seemingly frightened of Katsuki.

“Easy there tiger, you just woke up. I found you in the street asleep, so I took you to a hospital to see if you’re okay,” you offered an explanation that only answered some of his questions.

“Who the damned hell are you?? Why the hell am I here?? Argh, damnit! Let me out of these shitty restraints!” He demanded. Your face hardened in an instant as you glared at him.

“Hey, no fucking swearing in front of my children! If you’re going to talk and ask questions, you need to be respectful. You’re frightening my son with your endless shouts, so what’s your name and we can call your parents to come collect you.”

Katsuki let himself be still for a moment, glowering at you before relaxing his pose.

“My name is Katsuki Bakugou. I was hit by a quirk on my way to the UA’s dorms, I fell asleep I think, and the next thing I know is I’m in a hospital bed surrounded by someone who looks like a classmate of mine,” Katsuki growled. Your face grew a look of puzzlement.

“D-did you say… Katsuki Bakugou? As in, explosion quirk, super goal oriented, current number 2 hero?” You questioned him worriedly.

Katsuki gave you a strange look. How the hell would you know about that stuff??

“I’m only a high school student so I can’t be the number two hero yet, but everything else is true. Look, here’s my quirk,” he said as he let off a few sparks. The small children around the bed looked on in awe at the sight as you chewed your nails.

Katsuki looked back up to you and saw your expression.

“Why?” He asked.

You gulped.

“Because I’m married to Katsuki Bakugou.”

==================================

“Baby, I need you to come to the hospital in Kyoto, it’s an emergency! What? No, me and the kids are fine, we-. Hey, I told you we’re okay, but you have to be here as soon as you can. I’ll send you the details. I love you, see you in a bit.” You hung up the phone with an ashen face as you made your way back to your chair. Your children were bombarding Katsuki with questions, all too weird for Katsuki to answer.

“Papa, why are there two of you?”

“Daddy, why don’t you remember us? Did we do something bad?”

“Dad, why do you look so young? Where are all of your cool scars?”

“Alright kids, give the kid some space. We obviously need to get this fixed somehow. How we’re gonna do that is beyond me though,” you massaged your temples with a sigh. You glanced back up to young Katsuki.

“You’re definitely not a clone or something? Not some sort of fanboy who cosplays in his spare time?” You asked him, half joking.

Katsuki snorted.

“No, I don’t cosplay heroes. I beat them in the hero ranks to show them that I’m the best!” He exclaims.

“God, you even sound like my husband. I’m getting more and more convinced that this is some sort of weird time shift,” you stopped speaking as soon as a muscular figure pulls himself through the door. Katsuki physically stills.

It was him, but older.

At first, older Katsuki didn’t give him a look in. He scrambled over to you, kissing you deeply before checking you over for injuries.

“Where are you hurt?? Are you alright?? Speak to me??” He demanded. You carefully push him off you and rub your thumb on his cheek.

“Sweetie, I told you I’m fine. See, even the quadruplets are fine. We have a major problem though, and I don’t know how we’re going to solve it,” you gestured to younger Katsuki. Older Katsuki glares at younger Katsuki before a look for confusion befalls his face.

Katsuki looked… older. His face was more structured, yet still maintained some of his puppy fat. Scars littered his face, the most noticeable a large triangle that went from the middle of his cheek to the underside of his neck. His hair was shorter too, buzzed at the side. He towered over you easily and his pecs looked even bigger than before. Taunt muscles flexed at the threat to his wife and children.

“Can someone explain what the fuck happened?”

“Katsuki, stop fucking swearing!”

==================================

Until he was back to his current time, you had pleaded with your husband to let him stay. Older Katsuki agreed when his babies started pleading too, chubby cheeks wobbling with unshed tears at the idea of their older daddy throwing out their younger daddy.

And for the last few days, he had lived with you and his (?) children. Older Katsuki was mostly at work when he woke up, and he wouldn’t see him unless he stayed up past his bedtime (he could never compromise his sleep).

He spent some time babysitting your children, the quads. The eldest, Akira, was a total carbon copy of him, apart from his hair texture and colour. He was so bold when facing younger Katsuki, asking him questions and hiding his siblings behind him when they properly met.

The second eldest daughter, Aika, was more like you; shy and reserved but very playful all the same. She was a more balanced mixed of the two of you (?).

Your third daughter, Kokoro, was a pain in his ass. She constantly played tricks on Katsuki, taunting him and making mean jokes (all before she was shut down with your stare).

And finally, your littlest quadruplet Keiko, was honestly kinda his favourite in the strangest way; he was so different to his siblings it was unreal. He was the smallest, most sensitive of the bunch. In a way, he reminded him of Deku when they were kids, but with his colour hair.

The morning of the third day, you sat him down with your children at the breakfast table and grilled him a fry up. Each of your children were giggling happily in their high chairs, scrambled eggs and ketchup smeared around each mouth. Katsuki let out a small smile when Keiko offered him a piece of toast from his plate before denying it with a “no thanks squirt, your ma is making me some”.

“Well, good news! I found the person who you described and asked them how long the quirk should last. You should be back to your own time by next week, maybe even earlier if you’re lucky,” you smiled as you flipped the sizzling bacon in the pan.

Katsuki was scarfing the breakfast like there was no tomorrow, up until you said that he should be home sometime by next week.

That’s good, he thought. I really want to know something though, I might as well take advantage of the situation.

He looked up at you, one burning question on his mind.

“I bet you’re wondering how me and … well, I suppose you got together, huh?” You grinned at him.

“How could you tell that’s what I was thinking?” He demanded. You let out a laugh.

“Katsuki hun, I’ve been married to you, er, him for over 15 years. I know all of your little tricks and tells, so don’t even try hiding them,” you offered more bacon to him. He accepted, before you turned your attention to the kids in their high chairs.

“Let me clean up my mucky little pups up first and we’ll talk after I’ve dropped them off at daycare.”

==================================

It was a pleasant day, Katsuki noted. After dropping off the children at the daycare and added cuddles from the babies, you did as you promised and hurried Katsuki to the couch with a photo book.

“See here, this is a photo I took of us at our first date. You were so nervous, your hand kept popping and you had to keep wiping your hand,” you laughed fondly at the memory. Katsuki peered at the photos with a strange feeling lying in his tummy. Is this why he felt so nervous around younger you all of the time?

“Oh! And here, this was our trip with the class to France! I had said something about the croissants being delicious, and you took that as a challenge. I was eating the croissants you made for days,” you let out another laugh as you recounted tales of your relationship.

Katsuki stared at you for a solid 5 seconds. You stared at him back until his face hardened and he turned himself away. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Is something the matter hun?” You pried carefully. Damnit, you even knew the right nicknames to make him feel all weak inside.

“Just… why the hell would you go out with someone like me, hah? I’m loud, I’m obnoxious, I can be pretty freakin’ mean, so why? Why would you ever let me have a home with you?! Why would you ever let me grow a family with you?!? Why do you seem so happy, even though there’s a chance I may never come back?!?” He was borderline yelling at the end of his lament, tears threatening to plop onto the pages of the photo album.

You hugged Katsuki tightly, fingers playing with the baby hairs on the nape of his neck, all soft and gentle.

“Katsuki… I have no idea how far you’re into the relationship with younger me, but I’m going to let you in on a secret. I had a crush on you since our first day. I thought you were so strong and handsome, although you had some angst problems. Even after that, I always admired you from afar.

It hasn’t always been easy with you, as I’m sure you’re aware of. You can be loud and mean, and that has caused some rifts in our relationship, but,” you lifted his head up and cleared some tears.

“You’re also dedicated. You found ways to make up for your mistakes, and I always forgave you for them. I wanted a family with you because I love you, er, older Katsuki. We’re so blessed to have the quadruplets, even if they’re little pains sometimes. And yeah, there isn’t a day that goes by when I’m not panicked beyond all belief when you’re at work, but I wouldn’t stop you because it’s your dream.”

Katsuki looked at you. Your eyes held nothing but sincerity as he smoothed his breathing.

“Now come on, let’s go make some spicy noodles. My husband will be back soon.”

==================================

Katsuki helped you diligently in the kitchen, chopping vegetables with renewed vigour. Older Katsuki trudged through the door with a loud grunt, you immediately dropping the pan on the hob to give him a welcome home hug.

“Welcome back baby, how was work? It was nice that Kiri offered to cover your shift,” you rambled happily into his neck. Katsuki let out a barking laugh at your clinginess as he picked you up and kissed you, making you squeal in surprise.

Younger Katsuki stared at your display; is this how you’re going to be in the future? Allowing him to kiss your neck when he comes home from work, cooking his favourite meals, keeping your home in tact?

“Oi, quit starin at my wife you pervert,” older Katsuki barked before you slapped his chest playfully.

“Leave him be, he’s literally you, you big dumb dumb. I’ve been letting him in on some of our dates and stuff so he can seduce younger me into wanting you,” you teased. Both Katsuki’s huffed simultaneously, earning a laugh from you. You wriggled yourself out of his grip and led him to the dining room where the meal you and younger Katsuki created.

You kissed his cheek as you went to fetch him a drink, leaving both Katsuki’s by themselves.

Older Katsuki stared menacingly at his younger self before clearing his throat.

“Listen brat, we need to fuckin’ talk,” he starts, rearranging himself on the chair and nudging the other chair adjacent to him. Younger Katsuki did so with hesitation.

“I’m fuckin’ tellin’ ya now, if you do anything that wrecks what I have now, I’m gonna come back in time to kick your ass,” he growls lowly.

“I love that damned woman more than anything in this godforesaken planet, as well as my little pack of brats. I would do anything for them, and I’ll be damned if you do anything that fucks that up for me,” he glares at him. Younger Katsuki slowly put two and two together and looked pointedly at the scar on his cheek. Older Katsuki knew where he was looking immediately.

“I, we, got this scar during a villain attack. (Y/N) took the brats to the park after a stupid fucking fight we had, and a villain attacked them out of nowhere. Luckily, I was patrolling there and stopped them from hurting them, so I took the blow in her place. I would do it a million times over for her,” his voice audibly softens whilst talking about you, eyes downcast to the large scar on his cheek.

He touches it almost fondly, as if he was proud of the scare. Knowing Katsuki, he probably was. He looked back up at younger Katsuki, who had a contemplating look.

“So…. Please. Don’t hurt her younger self in any way. I wouldn’t be able to survive without her. If you argue, hold your tongue even if you’re right. Treasure her. Make her feel like she’s the most incredible woman in the damned world, cos she fuckin is,” he finished with a doleful look in his eyes.

“…okay. I’ll, I’ll try,” younger Katsuki promised. Older Katsuki nodded and cleared his throat as you walked into the room. You presented the bottle of beer with a happy grin and a kiss on the cheek and a ruffle of the hair for younger Katsuki.

Fuck, he was smitten.

==================================

“Daddies, watch me!” Aika grunted loudly as she successfully tiptoed from one end of the couch to another. Older Katsuki clapped and whooped in adoration whilst younger Katsuki looked on in pride.

“That’s my little ballerina! You’re gonna be the most graceful dancer ever, pumpkin!” Older Katsuki cheered, sweeping her up on his shoulder and making her squeal.

Kokoro looked on in jealousy with a pout on her face before a brilliant idea struck her. She toddled back to the couch and attempted the exact same feat as her sister, except on the back of the couch.

Keiko sat below her and watched her with a fearful expression.

“Papas, watch me! I can do it better than Aik-AAAAA!” She shrieked as she went to fall on the cushions of the couch, and subsequently Keiko. Keiko let out a scared cry as younger Katsuki swooped in to save him, carrying him in his left arm and catching Kokoro diligently in his right.

Keiko sobbed loudly into Katsuki’s broad shoulder, clinging to him with impressive strength. He nestled in as close as he could, passing Kokoro to his older self as he tried shushing Keiko.

“There there brat, you’re okay. Shhh, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” he murmured softly into his ear. He tried rocking him softly in his arms the same way you did and he was slowly left with a hiccuping, sleepy toddler.

“Damnit Kokoro, this is why I tell you to be careful! Every time you try to show Aika up, you end up hurting someone and yourself. Are you hurt, Keiko?” Older Katsuki asked Keiko. Keiko shook his little head into younger Katsuki’s neck.

Kokoro started tearing up at older Katsuki’s tone and looked down in shame. He visibly softened at his daughter’s tears and wiped them away with his fingers.

“Just be more careful, okay pumpkin?” He said firmly. Kokoro nodded and offered Keiko an apology.

==================================

The next time Katsuki woke up, it was in a hospital bed. Specifically, Recovery Girl’s clinic. The light filtered through the blinds, hitting Katsuki in the face and making him stir.

IV wires and tubes fed into him and made it hell to try to sit up, before he saw a sleeping figure near his knees.

It was younger you.

He nudged you with his knee in order to wake you up. You looked dreadful; massive eye bags, lips nibbled red raw, sniffly pink nose like you hadn’t stopped crying.

“Oh my god, you’re awake! I’ll go get Recovery Girl!” As you moved to get her, Katsuki grabbed your hand.

“W-what…,” his voice felt strange, like it wasn’t his.

“What the damned hell happened?” He croaked out.

Your face saddens as you looked away.

“You seemed really upset after our last training session, so I went after you to find you. You had collapsed just outside of the Height’s Alliance building and you wouldn’t wake up whatsoever,” your voice cracks. Katsuki let out an “oh”.

You gained your composure before looking at Katsuki again.

“So, how do you feel? Is anything hurt? What happened?” You interrogated him. Katsuki rolled his eyes at your pestering before a sly grin crossed his face.

“Why, were ya worried about me?” He teased and watched as your face turned a bright pink. You flapped your hands around in a panic.

“It’s just because you’re my classmate is all! You wouldn’t wake up, and I didn’t want you to stay like this for ages!” You rambled in a worried state. Katsuki let out a gruff laugh before wincing at his voice.

Well, better shoot my shot, he thought.

“Well, I’ll tell ya what. Go out with me this Saturday and I’ll tell ya everything,” he promised.

The pink in your face told him everything that he needed to know.

#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader fluff #bakugou #kinda angsty? idk #bakuboy is whipped for you #domestic bakugou is one of the best bakugous #domestic bakugou #time travel is a cool but weird concept #hope this makes sense 😭

[mphountitled]

sungchan who’s been such a sweetheart your whole relationship until you decide that you want to break up because you’ve started to notice how absolutely insane the red flags were?? but he NEEDS you, and you need him…you just don’t know it yet. and he’ll do anything to prove that! you out of all people, knows that he’ll always get what he wants.

🎀 anon <33

𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘿𝙚𝙛𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 | 𝙅𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙎𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣

- Pairings: Jung Sungchan x Fem!reader

- Warnings: College!au, Established Relationship, Language, Angst, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Obsession, Slight Dark fic, Insecurities, Smut (+18 Minors Dni) Breeding Kink, Slight Dub/con, Daddy Kink, Car sex, Choking, Spitting, Grinding, Degradation Kink

A/N: I really liked this request so so so much. I'm not sure if I did it justice, but this was indeed very fun to write

The very ideology of commitment had always been a foreign concept in his head. Not for any self-righteous reason beyond the fact that Sungchan had just never been ‘that guy’.

For the duration of his college career, Sungchan had been all too comfortable, dedicating his time and effort to becoming the #1 draft pick, this goal being something akin to a holy grail in Sungchan's mind. He would honestly rather die than let anything beyond the court take precedence over his mind.

But now Sungchan is yours.

And your head is thrown back in a genuine guffaw aimed at the sky, as you hang on intently to every word another man is saying.

This is the very first thing Sungchan has had to see exiting the gym, with the rest of his teammates swarming around him.

Instead of waiting in the car, like you usually did, a book open on your lap while Classical music oozed out of your phone speakers, you're entertaining his teammate. Your textbook open as your explanations flow from your lips like a waterfall. Seunghan wears a permanent lopsided grin on his face as he cradles the basketball to his side, bending his tall frame down to you and your textbook.

Although you don't notice Sungchan approaching, Seunghan does. The smirk on his face is absolutely diabolical as he raises a hand robotically and waves, before nodding along to your explanations once again.

Unable to move any further, Sungchan chooses to wait out the interaction along the far wall until Anton and Sohee join him in a flurry of their usual banter.

You laugh at something Seunghan says but your eyes are still trained on your textbook. A thought, ice cold and incredibly vile strikes through Sungchan's brain at the very moment.

Maybe Sungchan just was not smart enough for you.

Perhaps that is why you were giving another boy so much of your precious time.

His frown only deepens with the birth of the vile, uncomfortable revelation. All those times he had droned on and on to you about sports, forcing you to watch highlights of basketball games while his head rested on your lap, raking your fingers aimlessly through his hair.

While he was in heaven, you were apparently in hell.

This illogical jumping to conclusions, seems, to Sungchan as your only logical excuse for entertaining another man so closely.

Sungchan does not bother to hide the grim emotions descending on him like a plague. He only leans his back firmly against the west wall, backpack hanging lazily from his broad shoulders while the rest of his teammates scatter on home. Unbeknownst to Sungchan, his face is lowered, causing a wide shadow to cast over his eyes.

"You're glaring."

He does not offer Sohee any justifiable response, choosing instead, to ignore him as he continues his blatant staring.

“What do you think they're talking about?" He asks instead, the confines of his white and orange letterman jacket feeling far too hot.

"Do you know how scary you look when you do that?" Anton snickers, "Borderline serial killer shit."

"He definitely wants to fuck her," Sungchan continues, locked in on this display in front of him. Your book is cradled to your chest now, and you're looking up at Seunghan with a small, imperceptible smile.

"He wants to fuck her, I can tell-"

"How anyone can manage to pop a boner in the presence of a Psychology textbook is beyond me..." Sohee grumbles, dribbling his ball in between his legs.

"In his own fucked up logic," Anton begins, "Sohee's right." He ignores the bewildered expression of the older boy, choosing to roll his eyes over to Sungchan as he explains, "They're probably just talking about school, like they usually do."

"Nah," Sungchan shakes his head, unconvinced, "They just finished an essay on Freud. She fucking hates Frued. Whatever they're talking about... it's not that." You would not be smiling like that if all you had to talk about was psychology. You enjoyed school, but not that much.

"Your fault for going for someone actually smarter than you."

The snicker in Sohee's tone alludes to the fact that it was somewhat of a joke and meant to be taken as one... but the tightening grip on Sungchan's backpack has Anton glaring daggers at Sohee over Sungchan's bowed head.

"B-But," Sohee injects his voice with optimism, "It's not like you don't already have that on lock."

Anton is quick to jump on to the bandwagon, "Precisely," he says, "Girls date from 100, so if she's already let you consummate the relationship-"

"Just say fuck, Anton for the love of God-" Sohee grumbles,

"-She most likely already sees you as the person she wants to spend the rest of her ride with-"

"Fuck fuck fuck, that's what people do in relationships- they fuck-"

"You're a degenerate." Anton murmurs quietly.

And while they bicker, Sungchan did not have the heart to tell them that, for your sake, he had decided to 'wait' on any intimacy because he was so intent on being the perfect boyfriend.

Your perfect boyfriend.

He had spent an embarrassing chunk of your relationship locking away any urges that arose when your kisses got too heated, refraining from stuffing his hands down your pants when you were grinding a little too heavily in between said make out sessions and stopping himself from absolutely ravaging you whenever you reprimanded him, scolded him or corrected him during your study sessions.

Sex was all Sungchan ever thought about whenever you were in his presence, but evidently, you divulge your attentions elsewhere. You did not need him. The farthest you two had ever gone was Sungchan guiding you to orgasm by the sound of his voice.

How pretty you sounded over the phone line, voice heated with lust and veneered with static as you came all over your fingers in your darkened dorm room, imagining it was his. He had uttered so many 'good girl's , so many fits of praise because it was all true. You were a good girl, and he would fight biblical forces if it meant he could preserve that.

"Nah, fuck that," Sungchan pushes himself off the wall, making his way over to you because now Seunghan has his hand on your arm, carelessly handling what did not belong to him, because regardless of the moral repercussions involved, you were his.

"What're we talking about?" Sungchan cannot forget the way your smile dims ever so slightly upon his arrival. It scribbles itself into his memoey like a traumatizing little etch-a-sketch, making his heart sink in vexation and his abdomen tightening into a knot of perhaps, maybe anger.

"Oh, hey-"

When Sungchan looks down at you, he imagines only his face as the only image reflected in your smiling eyes. You were his just as he was yours, and so it should not come off as a shock to anyone when he slyly throws his arm over your shoulder, pulling you unexpectedly into the heat of his letterman jacket.

Your frame is as solid as concrete, the smile you had once adorned now completely gone.

"Hey," Sungchan whispers to you, but he directs his attention to a smirking Seunghan. Very clearly, all too pleased at having roused his teammate.

"Seunghan just needed clarification on psycodiagnostocs," you explain, somewhat nervously, because Sungchan is splaying tiny pecks against the side of your head while never breaking eye contact with Seunghan "T-the paper we have to do on African Epistemologie-”

“I'm sure Seunghan has a tutor for that.” the arm on your shoulder is fashioned of concrete. You couldn't move out of his grip if you wanted to.

“Don't bore him with the details, babe” Sungchan says, keeping his glare stationed on a grinning Seunghan all while bending down to whisper along your ear, loud enough for Seunghan to hear.

“He still needs to work on that Euro step too-”

“Sungchan.” There is a deep tempest stirring in your tone as you glare up at him, wholly and remarkably unimpressed. Before you could complete your verbal annihilation, Seunghan raises a hand, silencing you effectively.

“I'll let you know how the test goes,” Seunghan says, rousing Sungchan more by completely ignoring him, which, evidently, was the goal. “See you around.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

To say you were fuming would be a gross understatement. You're absolutely seething as you charge towards the only other vehicle parked in the deserted lot.

Sungchan raises his hand to block away the orange sun, settling on an uneven horizon as he strolls lazily after you, seemingly unfazed by his barbaric display of possessiveness Your hands are shaking as they latch onto the Jeep's handle, and you're barely even able to jump up into the truck before he's grasping at your hips, begrudgingly pulling you up.

“I know how to fucking work a seatbelt-”

Sungchan only snickers, before clicking in the belt, “Watch your tone,” he whispers before motioning to place a kiss on your cheek. You block it, flinching away from him and effectively causing a dark cloud to settle over his once jovial countenance.

“You were unbelievably out of line.” You begin to explain, looking deep into Sungchan's eyes as he leans into the passenger, with his arm on the car roof, effectively caging you in.

“I can't believe you did all that, knowing I need people to tutor!" You exclaim, "Knowing good and damn well that that's more money for me.”

Sungchan's eyes are lazer focused on you as he shrugs.

“You don't need his money.” Sungchan begins, furiously trying to keep his voice even, “You don't need anything from him.”

“I don't need anything from you.”

All is quiet as your words seem to haunt the atmosphere like an archaic apparition come to assert its vengeance on two unsuspecting young lovers. You are unable to know what Sungchan is thinking behind those concrete eyes, all until a smile cracks across his visage. A toothy grin that has him chuckling into the air until he's pulling back and shutting the door.

Sungchan rounds the car, head full of the weight of your words and what they essentially implied.

You did not want anything from him.

Or perhaps, you think you didn't.

Once Sungchan is behind the steering wheel, he does not move. He is only swinging his head sideways after a very agonising beat as he says. “You think I'm stupid?”

Your brows furrow, and your heart kickstarts as Sungchan sits back until his head is resting on leather headrest. His hand is stationed on your thigh, and you're not sure why, but a very stark shiver shoots down your spine, one that is not completely separated from feelings of absolute excitement.

“You don't wanna be seen with your stupid fucking boyfriend, do you?” he's not yelling, in fact his voice is perfectly normal. As gentle as the movements of his hand framing your exposed thigh and nearing the lining of your skirt with dangerous precision.

“Babe-” you shake your head, correcting yourself, “Sungchan, where is this coming from?

“You're ashamed of me,” He says, all to plainly before slotting his large hand underneath your skirt. You exhale shakily as you imperceptibly, almoat shyly open your legs further. Never had your boyfriend admistered any physical intimacy, no matter how anxiously you craved to experience his large hands on hour skin.

Did you need to get him mad to have him claim you?

Your morals and values completely dissolve as you throw your head back, allowing Sungchan's hand to delve deeper under your skirt.

“I see how it is,” he whispers, heavy eyes stationed on his hand under your skirt. The very moment the tips of his fingers brush against your soaked underwear, you're immediately grinding into his hand, hoping your desperation will transfer in your stilted movements. He watches, mesmerized.

“Do I need to be smarter for you?” He asks, mouth salivating at the sight of you grinding so heavily against his fingers. “What do I need to do better? It's almost like-” Sungchan's hand disappears from underneath your skiirt and you nearly whine at the loss of stimulation.

“It's almost like I need to get you pregnant in order to listen to me.” He whispers, seemingly to himself before dragging his gaze to you…

“Is that what you want?”

His eyes are piercing into yours as his hand slowly encircles around your throat. He's bringing you over the center console by a single grip on your esophagus, having your hips straddling his.

All in slow, calculated movements.

The rest of the world disappears as Sungchan attaches his lips to your throat, dragging your hips along the bulge in his sweatpants.

“Is that what you want, baby?” His voice is laden with lust. All his previous emotions spilling out of him in the form of sloppy, wet kisses on the side of your face. “Tell me you want me to cum deep inside you,”

A whine bleeds from your throat, immediately snapping his restraint before he's lifting you to uncover his red, leaking cock. Your eyes widen at the side of it, heart pulsing in your chest when it twitches under your palm.

“Fuck, don't look at me like that,” Sungchan murmurs before crashing his lips onto yours.

You're immediately stroking his cock as the kiss deepens, and Sungchan lifts you again, before guiding himself inside of you.

You're sinking onto his cock with bated breath, and he watches you with a pained, euphoric expression. His cock stretches your walls and you shudder as he forces himself deeper and deeper, mumermiing drunken confessions as he assumes a steady rhythm.

“ I've needed to fuck you for so fucking long, fuck,” he is already delirious as he pushes his hand under your shirt, pawing at your sensitive breast.

“F-Fuck Chan,” your eyes roll to the back of your head when Sungchan acts on an intrusive thought and forces his fingers inside your mouth.

“Open,” he practically growls before hooking his fingers inside your mouth. He drags you closer as he continues to fuck up into you with desperation and urgency. Sungchan slithers his tongue out, dragging it lazily against yours before spitting directly into your mouth, all with his fingers still flattening against your tongue.

“Fuck, you're such a slut,” He whispers breathlessly, causing your cunt to clench unimaginably tighter around his aching cock. “You like that, baby?” He asks, returning his hand to your throat. “You like being my perfect fucking slut-”

“Fuck- Daddy,” the words tumble out of your mouth, not for any other reason beyond it just feeling absolutely positively, right.

They evidently have a large effect on Sungchan because his once confident thrusts stutter into shallow motions, as of he was om the brink of cumming right then and there.

“Fuck- oh fuck, I'm so close.”

You can't even begin to explain to him that you're right there with him because your mind is so utterly consumed with pleasure. Your hands are on his shoulders, nails sinking into his letterman as your eyes go hazy with overstimulation and he watches your expression with that same, fucked out, open-mouthed expression.

“F-Fuck, you're gonna make me cum,” he whispers, “You're gonna make fucking cum inside you, baby-”

He twists your nipple, immediately causing a whine to spill from your hips, your cunt tightening around him again.

“Tell me to cum inside you-” He whispers, cock already twitching in warning, “Tell me now-fuck!”

“Please, please,” He's already spilling inside you as the words try to claw its way, out your throat, and you ascend unto your own orgasm. You scream into the stillness of the car as you push yourself down on Sungchan's stuttering hips, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he murmers broken praises and affirmations.

He tells you you're so pretty.

He tells you youre body is fucking perfect.

He tells you every little thing that has your heart swelling more and more in its cage. All for the boy in front of you.

“Fuck,” he whispers, allowing his thumb to ghost over your nipple while you both breath out, absolutely breathless. “Fuck- I thought I was going to kill him-”

“Why would you wanna do that?” You whisper, “You're such an idiot sometimes, you know that?”

He only nods slolwy, a small grin spreading across his face as he keeps himself still very much inside of you.

“Now go buy me a Plan B, please.”

#riize x reader #riize imagines #riize sungchan #riize #riize angst #riize smut #riize headcanon #riize imagine #sungchan x reader #sungchan smut #sungchan x you #sungchan fics #sungchan fluff #sungchan #jung sungchan #jung sungchan x reader

[cheriladycl01]

Winning Gold in Life - Lando Norris x BritishOlympicFigureSkating! Reader

Plot: You and Lando will try to coordinate his helmet designs to your figure skating outfit, so that you guys can match and win together.

Credits to off-t0-the-races for the GIF

"You looked amazing out there baby!" Lando grins picking you up and spinning you around as you got to the edge of the ice rink by the gate to leave.

You orange dress that had the Mclaren Logo all up the sheer see-through sleeves and on the back as if it were a tramp-stamp flowed around you hips as he spun you.

"Ah that was so nerve-racking having you watching me!" you exclaim, leaning your head into the crook of his neck. You both sat on the stands waiting for the results.

"Y/N, that was an fantastic performance. Think we have a chance for Gold!" your coach says coming over to you handing you your coat and gloves like she normally did after you'd been out on the ice.

"Thank you Maddie, I just hope it was enough!" you nod nervously. Lando rubs his hand up and down your legs in a comforting manor before pulling you into his hold.

"You did do well, no matter where you come... I'm going to be proud of you for just going out there today!" he whispers in your ear and tears start to build up in your eyeline. Some of you eyeliner and mascara had already started to melt off your face but Lando couldn't stand to see himself make it worse.

"Ohhhh, don't cry baby!" he laughs seeing your little pouty expression that he found adorable. You look at him is his thumbs wipe under your eyes trying to fix the black and brown makeup that had started to streak and make you loosely resemble a Panda.

As you waited for the results to come in, you anxiously bite your lips until you hear you name said by the Chinese commentator before the English one making you look at Lando and your trainer.

"Was that my name or am i tripping?" you ask looking between them and Lando has a huge grin on his face.

"That was your name baby, GOLD!" he exclaims and you crouch down into a sort of squat in shock. Tears streaming down your face.

"Y/N come on! Onto the ice!" you trainer grins and you take Lando's hand dragging him so he's as close to the barriers between the ice and the stadium seats as possible.

You see the camera on you and the other two medalists who you immediately pull into hugs, you'd gotten close to them since you guys landed here in Beijing.

You stake out to where the podium is and stand on the top place, getting help from someone to get up onto it. You smile at your flag, proud of what you've done for team GB.

The medal gets placed around you neck after the others and you get handed your flowers as you all stand listening to the British National Anthem, your hand on your heart and medal while you look up trying to keep the tears at bay.

You skate back and see Lando is filming your arrival making you make a silly face at the camera before showing your cold medal to him and the camera with a big cheesy grin on you face.

"Darling I'm so proud of you!" he smiles pulling you in for a hug and kisses your forehead as he takes a second to observe you.

"I love you so much, having you here for support was everything!" you admit, knowing you probably wouldn't have done as well if he wasn't here cheering you on.

"Well, now that you've got your first gold. I think it's time that I got my first win..." he smiles.

"Yeah? Will that be in Bahrain with your new matching lid" you grin at him and he nods.

"Need my good luck charm with me, if I'm going to win!"

And that was how you found yourself once again in the fuel scented paddock that you'd become accustomed too over the few years you'd been dating Lando for.

"Things have been looking promising babe! You guy's sandbagged hard!" you grin, knowing there was a lot more oophm to the car than what they'd let on in February's pre-season testing.

"Zac's orders. We'll be up there with Red Bull and Mercedes this year!" he grins and FP1 and FP2 proved that. He had a mega performance having the quickest time in the first and going third fastest in the second.

Sunday came around far to quickly for your liking and you were sat in the paddock in shorts and Lando's Mclaren Shirt for the warm weather Bahrain had brought. You even had to go to the merch stand to by yourself a McLaren hat because the darkness to you hair had started to burn the top of you head.

It was an embarrassing interaction, you asked for a Lando Norris McLaren hat but it was so busy and so loud they'd mistaken it for a Lewis Hamilton Mercedes hat so you were strolling through the paddock with that on your head.

"Ahhh, well if it isn't my biggest fan Y/N Y/L/N!" Lewis says catching you as he strides past on his scooter stopping to talk to you.

"They made a mistake at the merch shop. I didnt have the heart to correct them..." you chuckle and he laughs as well, he pulls out a pen starting to sign it while it was on your head.

"For my biggest fan" he laughs and you cant help but laugh as well. Only seconds later do the media catch on to the two athletes conversing and pull them up on it.

"Hey guys, how are we doing today!" one of the interviewers asks making you freeze a little like a deer in headlights.

"I'm doing great, just you know spending time with a fan!" Lewis jokes making the reporters laughs and turn to you.

"Yep, big fan of his work. Ppppft whose that Lando Norris guy in pole position. I don't know him..." you joke back knowing Lewis and Lando had the front row locked out.

"Y/N, all jokes aside it's great to see you back in the paddock now after all the training ... which clearly paid off congratulations" she smiles and you blush a little nod liking to brag or show off.

"Thank you, my team and I worked really hard. I obviously had the power of Mclaren and Lando on my side and I'm happy to have achieved Gold after my not so good attempt in 2018!" you cringe remembering when you were so much younger and naive that you hadn't performed as well, just missing out on a bronze medal.

"Well all the best to you and Lando!" she grins before keeping Lewis and letting you dash off back to McLaren.

2 hours later and you were anxuously biting your nails watching Lando catch up to the lead of the race after a slow pitstop and reclaim his P1.

It wasn't until the last lap, where DRS was enabled that he could overtake Charles and take back his P1 having an advantage on the final turn and straight for him to cross the finish line in P1.

His first F1 win.

You didn't have the most graceful reaction for a WAG, that was for sure but seeing Lando win after working so hard towards his goal, you couldn't contain your emotions.

You ran up to him, and you jumped on him not caring about the wetness of his suit from sweat and you were wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as his gloved hands came down to support you holding just under your bum.

"You are amazing!" you cry pulling up his visor so you can see his own eyes that are full of tears.

You later watched on as he celebrated his podium with Charles and Lewis, and you saw the elated and happy expression on your face that you would do anything to keep on their permanently as your favourite thing about him was his smile.

That was your man... and he was forever your man.

y/user

Liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and pietra.pilao

y/user: Life recently! Winning Gold in all aspects of life ... McLaren Papaya inspired drip, and Lando getting a new lid for 2023 (I’m not allowed to show you guys till race weekend) <3

Tagged 1 person

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landonorris: my gorgeous baby! I love you 🥰❤️

-> y/user: I love you more! Thank you for all your support recently 🫶🏼❤️

mclaren: when the drip is dripping 😦🤭🧡

-> y/user: always 🧡

fan1: it’s so cute how Lando and Y/N always match🥺

fan2: Y/N show us the lid we won’t snitch!

maxfewtrell: thank you for making it to the merch drop. We miss seeing you!

-> y/user: missing you too Max 🫶🏼

pietra.pilao: beautiful, gorgeous girl

-> y/user: no you 👆🏼☺️

-> pietra.pilao: let’s date ❤️

-> y/user: YES! Spa days for life 🫣🫶🏼

fan3: P and Y/N’s friendship is so funny 🥺🧡

Instagram Story Caption

Back to training, without my mans 😭🫶🏼

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando imagine #lando #lando x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 x reader

[bangaveragewhitewine]

the boy is mine (amy's edition)

Written as part of @carolmunson ‘s the boy is mine writing exercise which is such a fun and gorgeous idea!

wc: 1,800

contents: love-sick best friends turned lovers, set in 1985 (there's an angstier version of this in my drafts...), allusions to sex (nothing explicit), Eddie's boner mention, kissing until your lips hurt

notes: Well, I’d love to lie and say that this was a breeze, but writing has been incredibly difficult for me lately. Fighting with myself comes easier than writing these days, but this is a really fabulous idea. Feeling ✨part of something✨ is really special (and a little daunting). Thank you, Carol 🩷

the scene: a romantic night-in at the trailer. 

the guidelines: prompt, props and dialogue are all here 

April 1985

You watch silver smoke curl and melt into the air as the cigarette burns between Eddie’s lips. The scent of it cuts through the lingering fug of weed and sex and sweat. His hands are busy with pen and paper, jotting lyric ideas into his little notebook.

It feels a little bit romantic that he is so inspired after fucking you.

Your chilly feet rub together beneath the covers. It’s hard to resist the urge to stick them between his shins but you don’t want to ruin his artistic flow by shocking him with your arctic toes. 

Fade to Black plays from the boombox on his messy dresser. Eddie had wound the tape back to restart the almost seven-minute track after the first listen-through and grinned unapologetically when you rolled your eyes at him. His head bobs to the beat as he scribbles and you shift your attention to a particularly perfect curl lying across his shoulder, the dark black ink pressed into his skin.

If your camera were closer, you would snap a picture of him. But for now, you store the image of him away in your mind. In twenty, thirty, forty years, you will remember tonight and smile. There’s a whole life ahead of you to plan with him, and you’re pretty sure Eddie wants in on it too. 

“Your Mama never told you it’s rude to stare, princess?” he asks, rereading what he had just spilled onto the page. He clicks the pen three times before folding the notebook closed. His wave of inspiration has peaked and you are, once again, his sole focus. 

“Maybe. Probably.” You shrug one shoulder before taking the cigarette from between his lips.

The way your lips hug the filter makes Eddie’s body thrum to life all over again. When you lean across him to tap off the ash, he takes his chance to pull you against his chest and lock you into his lap, closer than close. The cigarette is left to burn out as you trade smokey, wet kisses back and forth between smiling lips until you are both laughing at nothing, at everything. At that little whiney noise lodged in the back of Eddie’s throat, and the way he taps the opening bars of Trapped Under Ice against your bare body. 

That throaty, dirty laugh makes you feel warm all over. His cheeks are rosy-warm and cherubic when he smiles at you. You want to nibble them but settle on gentle kisses instead. His eyelids and forehead are next, then his nose, before you work your way back to his lips. It’s a tender moment after those almost unstoppable giggles, rib-aching and eye-watering laughter that comes easy when you’re with Eddie - more free-flowing when you’re still a little bit faded. 

“Want the rest of that pizza?” Eddie asks after a few moments. His mouth has been busy kissing your neck and shoulder, and the way his breath catches on damp patches makes you shiver. 

A few more smiling kisses are traded before you vacate the cocoon of body-warm blankets together to don discarded sweaters and underwear. Eddie glues himself to your back in a penguin shuffle to the kitchenette to raid the forgotten pizza box and the stash of munchie-friendly snacks stowed away in the cupboard. 

The formica feels cool against the back of your thighs as you chew thoughtfully on the cooled-off slice. There are empty cans of High Life on the table between the melted candles; Eddie’s romantic ideas of tea lights and the champagne of beers had set the butterflies in your stomach swirling when you stepped into the trailer that evening. The VHS cases and TV remote are lost between the couch cushions and throw pillows, cast aside before you could even decide what to watch in favour of making out hot and heavy. 

Eddie holds up two soup-recipe mugs. “I ran out of like, nice cups, this okay?" he asks. 

The unwashed everyday mugs are abandoned in the sink and Eddie’s own Garfield mug is a quarter full of flat soda on his dresser. You know better than to suggest one of the collectables perched high on the shelves and hooks in the living room, and Eddie does too. Wayne is still irked about the cracked commemorative Moon Landing mug. It’s been glued together and sits safely on a higher-up shelf since thirteen-year-old Eddie had wanted to impress you, his new friend, with hot cocoa. 

You look back at the bowl-cups, and wonder if anyone ever used the recipe on the front. “They are nice. I’ve always wanted to drink not-soup out of these. Feels illegal.” 

Everyone always said he would be a bad influence on you, drag you down. They never saw that soft side to Eddie Munson, but you did. Using soup bowls as cups is far from ritual sacrifice and grand theft auto.

When he looks at you, perched on the counter in his hoodie and no pants, eating cold pizza, he feels like he might be looking at an angel. Your post-sex hair is your messy halo.

He comes to stand between your thighs and you feed him a bite before pushing his bangs back to kiss his forehead simply because you want you. Because you can now. Now that the pretence of being just friends has finally (finally) been dropped. Everything about your night together - now that you are together - is pretty similar to how it’s always been. Pizza and laughing until your ribs hurt, smoking enough to make you loose-limbed and ravenous. You spend less time looking at his lips and fingers and wondering what they feel like; you know now, and get to sample any time. 

He steals one more bite before popping the lid on a can of Betty Crocker vanilla frosting from the cupboard. It has been a solid fixture of your garbage-food fixes since you and Eddie were fourteen and fifteen and home alone with a stack of horror movies to watch; Betty and two spoons, maybe some peanut butter or salty chips for balance. Now there is always a can in the cupboard, in your house and in the trailer, for when the cravings hit. When you move to Indy together after graduation, it’s top of your grocery list.

Eddie feeds you the first spoon, hovering it in front of your lips so you will come and take it. He feels a little like a pervert when he watches you eat it, lips around the cold metal and your eyes closed. You know exactly what you’re doing, doling out a little payback for Eddie getting distracted with his lyrics and set-lists while you were cuddling.

“Did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?” you ask, tongue thick and coated with sweet vanilla. 

“Just appreciating the art, sweet thing,” he fires back, winking at you before taking a bite of frosting. His brows pull in like he’s pondering something. “Mm. Wonder if  there’s a Mr Crocker…”

You shove his head as he cackles that goblin-laugh of his and you try not to smirk at the same joke he’s been telling for years. 

“You want an older model, Munson? Karen Wheeler’s been looking pretty dolled up lately…” You take the spoon, tapping it against your lip as Eddie pulls a face. 

“Oh yeah, MILFs of Hawkins, come get me.” Eddie rolls his eyes before sliding his fingers up your bare legs to find the soft curve of your waist. “Only girl for me is riiight here, baby. You’re all the woman I need.”

He’s pressed up close with his chin resting against your chest, gazing at you like you hung the moon. 

“Better tell O’Donnell that. I think she has a crush, s’why she keeps giving you detention.” 

“You’re a fuckin’ sicko.” Eddie’s reverence shifts into a scowl as he rests against your chest, but softens again when your fingers slide into his hair, coaxing him to relax and melt against you. 

“And you like that?” you ask.

“I do.”

Eddie can feel the sped-up thud of your heart beneath his ear, matching the beat of his own. A peaceful moment settles over the kitchen.

Until a tendril of mischief unfurls inside you. Imitating that nasally, cringe-inducing voice of O’Donnell blended with something a little breathy, you whisper in his ear, “Edward Munson. I want to see you after class. You’ve been a very bad boy…” 

He steps back from you, hands over his ears so he can’t hear any more of your teasing. It’s cold without him all wrapped up and pressed against you.

“Divorce. Divorcing you. Get out.” 

Your cheeks ache, like when you’ve had a lollipop lodged there for a little too long. It’s sweet and cloying like the joy you take from riling him up like this. “Aw, don’t be like that!”

“Too late. I’m taking the house and the kids.” 

“That’s not even…” you cut yourself off, laughing too hard, and Eddie can’t even hide his own smile; he can’t buy into his own dramatics when you sit glowing on his kitchen counter, damp-eyed from laughing so hard (even if it is at his expense). 

“M’sorry, sorry. Don’t divorce me.” You pout and open your arms out, grabby hands poking from the too-long sleeves until he slopes back between your legs and folds against you. Your mind wanders briefly to a future where you’re Mrs Munson; it sounds nice.

As stubborn as he can be, Eddie thaws after a few sweet kisses cut with quiet little murmurs of ‘forgive meee’. You feed him another spoon of icing as a sign of peace, sweetening him up just a little more before licking what’s left off of the tip and edge. 

You feel his hands squeezing tighter on your hips, bringing your attention back to Eddie and away from the frosting. 

“Hm?”

“If you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem.” He sees your confused expression and taps the spoon. “I’m gettin’ jealous. Of a spoon.” 

You can feel the problem, warm and thick against your leg. It does not feel like much of a problem, and you both can think of a few tried and tested solutions to make it all better - a few more to be explored are jotted on a page of another small notebook tucked away in Eddie’s drawer.

“Is it a problem? Really?” you ask, head tilted with the metal tap-tapping against your lips before you go in for another indulgent scoop. 

“Okay, I’m cutting you off.” 

The spoon is snatched and thrown, and it clangs against the mugs in the sink as Eddie takes your hands and hauls you down from the counter. You taste vanilla on his tongue, sharing the sweetness with you as you stumble blindly back to his room.

thank you for reading🩷reblogs, likes and comments are welcome and cherished!

Don't forget to check out the rest of the fics from the challenge!!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #bangaveragefics

[niki-phoria]

NOT EVEN THE GODS ABOVE CAN SEPARATE THE TWO OF US

pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: hurt comfort word count: 731

notes: set in the re4 castle, leon cries (kinda), reader cries, not proofread so pls forgive any mistakes !!

summary: leon can't bare the thought of losing you for a second. so what happens when you disappear for four hours in a haunted, monster-filled castle?

four hours. it’s been four hours since leon found himself in this hellhole. four hours of mindlessly wandering through seemingly endless corridors of concrete and stone. four hours of agonizingly tracing and retracing a maze filled with monsters. it almost reminds him of the haunted houses you’d drag him to, all too eager to bring him along to experience some fake scares for once. 

it’s been four hours since he lost you. 

an unrelenting chill blows past him again, causing goosebumps to arise along his exposed forearms. monsters don’t care about the cold, he supposes, though it would be nice to have his jacket. with his adrenaline slowly wearing off with each step he finds himself more and more susceptible to the unrelentingly cold castle. 

studying the monotone bricks ahead, leon’s mind wanders. he’s distracted. you shouldn’t have even been on the island, much less this close to whatever monstrosities linger far too close for comfort. what if you’re hurt? what if those monsters have somehow gotten to you. what if… the worst has already happened?

leon sighs. his eyes flutter closed for a second as he sends a silent prayer to a god he isn’t sure he ever really believed in. please be okay. if anything happens… take me instead. please be okay.

his heart leaps when he notices a soft scuffle. it’s nearby. something - or maybe someone - is in the darkness. leon’s hand instinctively draws to his knife. his fingers dig into the handle as he grips the blade tightly against his side. ready. 

he moves like an animal. a predator - ready to strike at any moment. the stone bricks behind him are ice cold as he presses his back against the wall, silently waiting for his prey. 

there’s another step. then another. and then -

“y/n?” he can almost feel his heart cease its beating in his chest. he blinks once. twice. like you’ll disappear in the milliseconds it takes for him to open his eyes again. his knife clatters to the ground in his shock. leon’s fingernails dig into the thick fabric of his gloves. he has to resist the urge to pinch himself in fear of waking up from whatever fucked up dream this is. 

“leon.” your voice wavers. a second passes. then another. and another. 

and then you’re running at him, all but tackling the man as you jump into his arms. leon stumbles backwards slightly. his combat boots scrape against the concrete floor as he scrambles to maintain his balance. he’s unfortunately not fast enough; the momentum sends both of you tumbling to the ground. 

leon’s back aches from where you both slammed into the cold floor below. he’s sure your knees do, too. you’re both covered in dirt. a layer of sweat and grime stains the fabric of your shirt. your hands are bloody and bruised and your arms will be littered with a variety of new scars by next month - you’re sure of it - but it doesn’t matter. because you’re real. 

you’re really here. you’re really wrapping your arms around his shoulders. you’re really burying your face into the crook of his neck. you’re really here.

“y/n.” this time his voice is louder. his body moves before his mind does. wrapping his arms around your waist, he sighs, taking in the feeling of you finally back in his arms once again. leon slips his hands underneath the fabric of your shirt, tracing his fingertips along the ebbs and flows of your back. 

leon squeezes his eyes shut; his grip around your waist tightens. his heart cracks a little more with each new tear he can feel drip against his skin and stain into the fabric of his shirt. gently rubbing his hand against your back, he hopes that with enough loving touches and whispered reassurances he’ll be able to mend your heart back together. 

leon is desperate. dull nails dig into the skin of your hips, as if the lack of separation between your bodies now will make up for lost time. “you’re here,” leon whispers. he isn’t sure if you can hear him. he can barely hear himself over the noise of his own beating heartbeat and your quiet sobs. “it’s okay. i’ve got you.” stray tears escape his own eyes before leon has the chance to stop them. “i won’t let anything happen to you ever again. i promise.”

if you enjoyed this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, consider checking out my resident evil masterlist <3

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy one shot #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy scenario #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil x reader #resident evil x male reader #re x reader #re x male reader #resident evil imagine #resident evil one shot #resident evil drabble #resident evil scenario #resident evil fluff #resident evil ff #leon kennedy ff #resident evil #leon kennedy #re4 leon #male reader #gn reader #x reader #x male reader #leon kennedy angst #resident evil angst

[clock-corpse]

"Hmph. Back in my day, all I had to do was block out the sun to get Reimu's attention. Crashing the housing market? Whatever happened to putting lives in danger? These incidents are so weak."

#Time Flows Once Again (ic) ⧗ #borrowed muse: Remilia (cruentusscarlet) #okay now that I've officially gotten permission... #remi's just a tired old lady LDSFKJHLKDFH #KIDS THESE DAYS

[djarincore]

— vampire!simon punishes you

warnings: noncon/dubcon, smut, angst, dark, jealousy if you squint, blood, sorta based off this post

You're stiff when he throws you against the sheets. A silk nightgown does nothing to shield the feeling of his body molding into yours, trapping you against the bed.

His hands leave trails of ice along your skin as they slide beneath your thighs to force them apart. His lips are on your neck; his tongue drags against your rapid pulse for a taste. You shrink beneath him when it becomes teeth—pointed canines scraping against your skin.

Your voice wavers, a thick lump swelling in your throat. Tears gloss over your eyes as you force the words out. “My Lord, forgive m-”

“Shut up,” he hisses, wrenching away from your neck. His nose meets yours as he looks into your tear filled eyes. “You’re lucky I don't fuckin’ drain you.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” you whimper, shutting your eyes. His gaze, so intense, is enough to make you feel like you're being swallowed whole. If he wants to bite you, fuck you, then he can. You just want to be free of his grasp and breathe again.

“What did you hope to accomplish tonight?”

“N-Nothing, I-”

“Look at me!” He roars. A hand clamps around your jaw and forces your face back to his.

When your bleary eyes open, Simon is still above you, holding a carved stake. The same one you tried plunging into his back.

“Thought you could stick me with this twig? Who gave you that idea, huh? You think that bastard wants to save you?”

You know you shouldn't be going back to him, but you can't help yourself. John makes you feel safe, wanted, more than a lamb for slaughter. When he takes you into his arms, they're warm. Pressed against his chest, you hear his heartbeat, reminding you you're still alive too.

When you're forced to return to Simon at dusk, you're hit with the harsh reality of why you no longer belong to the living.

Simon barks out a mocking laugh. “No one wants to save a pathetic, sniveling thing like you.”

Your chest aches and the tears you hold back flow down your temples.

“I should stick this in you to teach you a lesson. You'd like that wouldn't you?”

A new cold washes over you. When his hands push your nightgown past your hips, exposing your naked core, you grab at his wrists. He ignores your clawing fingers and you begin pleading instead. “Please, don't. Please.”

“You'll take anything in that greedy cunt. This won't be a problem,” he sneers, smoothing a hand down to your mound. “I'll even get you nice and ready for it.”

His thumb presses down on your clit and your legs lock around his waist as the sensation jolts through your body. Quick circles are all it takes for you to shift your hips forward.

“Look at you. Already asking for it.”

You bite your lip and hold back a moan. You hate the way he makes you feel used and dirty and breaks you apart with his touch.

When the stake’s tip touches your folds, you gasp. Luckily, it's dulled at the tip, not sharp enough to pierce you, and the round base is sanded down.

Simon bullies the stake into you, ignoring the way you squirm. He's met with resistance as he pushes deeper because you're not wet enough to take it.

“I can't,” you insist, shaking your head. Its pointed head prods at your walls and you wince. You resist shifting your hips and focus on his thumb still slowly swirling on your clit instead.

“That's not what this cunt’s tellin’ me,” he retorts. “Look at ‘er, takin’ it just like a cock.”

Simon thrusts the stake further. The head stabs deeper into you, forcing a pained gasp from you. Tears swell in your eyes once again and your finger dig into the sheets.

“I can't—I've learned my lesson. Forgive me,” you cry.

He pulls the stake from your cunt. It drags against your walls, making you wince, as it is pulled free, glistening with some of your arousal. Simon throws it to the side with so much force it’s embedded into the wall. To serve as a reminder for the next time you get any foolish ideas.

You take in a shuddering breath, hoping the worst is over, but yelp when his hands suddenly grasp your hips and flip you on your stomach.

Simon bends to your ear, chest pressed against you back and his hard cock against your ass. “Next time the two of you try to kill me, bring him along and I'll drain you last.”

You burrow your face into the pillow and nod your head in shame. You would be a fool to try anything like this again. And you wouldn't dare put John in danger.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos, grinding his cock against your ass. A hand sneaks between your thighs, returning to your clit.

You can't help but move your hips against his hand now that the stake is gone.

His nose brushes your bare shoulder and his other hand forces your head to the side, baring your neck for him. “Now, stay still for me.”

The pierce of his fangs is a cold sting at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. The shock is always first, rooting you in place and unable to even form a scream. And when that subsides, the pain comes hot like poison spreading through your veins.

You squirm beneath him, both the heat of his bite and your rising pleasure clash in you. But the pleasure always wins and the pain becomes nothing but an afterthought against his fingers. Instead of a scream, you moan.

You're so close, you can feel the knot in your belly tighten, but your vision is becoming blurry. You begin to fear he’ll make good on his threat to drain you.

He drinks and drinks, taking what he needs, but you feel yourself slipping between consciousness and your climax. You open your mouth but all that you manage is a weak, intelligible mumble and any pleasure you hoped for slips into a cruel darkness.

#simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #cod smut #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #cod x reader smut #cod fanfic #ghost x reader #ghost scenario #cod mwii

[awfcspencer]

Marry Me || leah williamson x reader

leah williamson x reader

prompt: Wedding are supposed to be happy, right?

warnings: angst, commitment issues, self doubt

a/n: this was actually a dream i had last night and it flowed out of me when i woke up ha.

You had a big heart. You knew you could love someone unconditionally. You thought you could love someone forever.

But your commitment issues always took the hardest and final blow. Whether it was everyone leaving you or rather you always leaving, commitment just didn’t seem on your horizon.

It stemmed from your childhood, an absent father that only came around when it was beneficial for him. Every few months or so he would come back into your life, insisting he had changed, insisting he wanted a relationship with you. He would make his rounds every week, and then one week, he would “forget”, brushing it off as he promised he would be there the next week. The next week you would patiently wait outside your home, bag-packed, and eager to share what had happened through the week at school with him. The sun was out shining when you went outside, but now the sun had set. The time he was supposed to pick you up had long passed as you finally accepted he wasn’t coming. Thankfully, your mother was always there to pick up the pieces of your heart, sobbing quietly into her chest. But once again, every few months, you would fall into his trap every time without fail.

Every single time you opened your heart, your father broke it into a million tiny pieces. In your small little bubble, it just seemed no one would ever really stay. Each time you would get your hopes up, and you vowed to never let someone make you feel that way ever again. Closing your heart off due to fear. The fear that someone will come along and eventually leave you. Everyone always left. And if they didn’t, you would leave, unwilling to wait until the presumed inevitable happened, that they would leave. It seemed easier in your head to do the damage to yourself rather than someone else do it to you.

A string of late-night hookups and situationships that left your heart empty and your cheeks stained with tears. Leaving your home in Manchester to North London for a new journey, something different, someone different. Hoping to finally settle down. Get that white picket-fenced house, a wife and a few children, and maybe even a golden retriever to really put the icing on the cake. You longed for some stability, someone stable, tired of running.

———————

Leah wasn’t just another girl, she was different. Leah had come into your life at a pinnacle time and changed you forever.

A late night at a downtown bar where the two of you got to know each other. She had sat down at the barstool right next to you even though the bar was nearly empty. Small conversations that turned lengthy, finding an oddly weird comfort in the blonde. You didn’t want to leave, but the morning was on the horizon and you had work in the morning.

“Alright Leah, I am going to head out. It was lovely to meet you.” You told her on the first night you had met her. Handing the bartender your card as he cashed your tab out.

“Wait! Here put your number in my phone so you can text me when you get home.” She replied, sliding her phone towards you.

It was an odd concept for you to understand. If she had wanted your number, why didn’t she just ask for it?

“I don’t get it? Text you when I’m home? If you wanted my number Leah you could have asked.” you questioned, cheeks red with embarrassment at clearly not understanding what Leah was playing at. Confusion is definitely in your eyes and Leah could tell.

“Yeah so I know you got home safe, so I don’t have to worry all night that a pretty girl like you didn’t make it safe and sound home with not a hair out of place.”

Your hands brush ever so slightly as you hand her phone back to her after putting in your number. It finally registered with you, Leah wanted to make sure you got home safe. It might sound sad, but no one had ever told you to text when you got home, and no one had ever stayed long enough to care to ask. You never let anyone get close enough. You knew deep in your bones that Leah was different, you could just tell.

Every Sunday night you would casually stroll into the bar and Leah would be there, sitting on the bar stool next to yours. Every single time she was there, she never missed a Sunday. Each night you would talk until the bartender had to kick you guys out. You found yourself falling for the blonde, she was funny, she had a real passion for something, and she was also just recently out of a rocky relationship. It was like a match made in heaven. She was someone you could spend forever with, someone who maybe wouldn’t leave.

One Sunday night, Leah had asked you to join her for a date, and slowly but surely you found yourself opening up with Leah. You told her about your fear of commitment, your fear of ultimately being alone. She vowed to do her best to never make you feel that way. Proving every day that she was here to stay. Your relationship with Leah blossomed and every single day you woke up, you chose to be with Leah.

Maybe you could finally commit.

You would give Leah the Earth, all she had to do was ask.

She was patient with you whenever you would get in the mindset that eventually everyone leaves. It was hardest on away match days where you would get so much anxiety that Leah would never return that you would need to be calling or messaging Leah at all times. But Leah was perfect, always knowing how to calm you down and say the right things.

“I will be home in 14 hours Baby and I promise we will do nothing when I get back, spend the whole day on the couch if you want to.” Leah spoke to you over the phone on FaceTime as you couldn’t fall asleep for the second night in a row without the crippling fear that washed over you when Leah wasn’t around to give you a proper cuddle and metaphorically fight away the rocky feelings in your brain. Her voice was always so comforting.

“Go to sleep, baby. I will be here when you wake up. I love you, always.” She could tell by your dark eye bags that you hadn't been sleeping. Sleep consumed you as you were out like a light in a mere few seconds. And when you woke up, Leah was still there on the phone. She proved day in and day out that she was there to stay.

After a few years of dating Leah, you knew when she would subtly drop hints of something she wanted.

It was casual at first. Leah mentioning flowers she thought were the most beautiful, flowers that would best be accompanied by a long lacy white dress that you had seen in her most recent website searches.

“Oh I just love peony flowers. You know I read that they can symbolize romance, good luck, and long marriages.” She stated out to you as you passed by the flower shop on the way to the store. You hummed in agreement, continuing your walk. Blatantly ignoring the tension in your stomach when you thought about the subject of marriage.

She would strategically leave her computer open on tabs that you knew she was looking at venues on that could hold enough people that each of you knew. Pretending to quickly close them whenever you came around.

Leah asking small questions at dinner or right before you would go to bed about ring sizes or themes that would make your head spin.

“I would just love a summer wedding, like Mamma Mia style. Near the beach with colorful decorations with close friends and family. Doesn’t that sound nice?” She said one night when the two of you were cuddled in bed.

“Sounds beautiful Lee.” The pit in your stomach didn’t go unnoticed. Wrapping yourself deeper into Leah’s arms as you tried to sleep away the anxiety. To hopefully get rid of the sickening feeling you felt.

You knew Leah wanted to get married, even more, she wanted to marry you. Anyone else would desperately jump at the opportunity to be with someone like Leah. Someone so caring. Someone so patient. Someone so compassionate.

You knew it was getting close when she advised you to get your nail painted and hair done. The time was coming. Leah having whispered conversations on the phone and spending more time on her computer researching.

And you should be happy right? Leah was simply the most wonderful person you had ever met. She was everything you wanted and needed. You could see yourself being with her for the rest of your life. But why did the thought of marriage scare you so bad.

Maybe it was the fact that marriage was a commitment.

Maybe it was the fact that in the back of your mind that if you were to marry Leah, you no longer had a way out.

It terrified you. Leah didn’t deserve someone who looked at marriage so poorly, I mean your parents separating definitely had an affect. Leah deserved someone who would love her endlessly, not that you didn’t, but someone who could full heartedly commit to her. And inside yourself, you didn’t think you could.

Right before Leah left that morning, you made sure to hug her extra tight and give her a long kiss. Savoring each second, because you knew already knew that it would be the last. You were leaving.

You had to leave. You had too. You couldn’t bare the thought of trapping Leah, or maybe the thought of her trapping you. Forcing yourself to believe it was best this way. Leah would be happier this way. Everyone always leaves. But this time, you were leaving Leah. The logic only made sense in your brain.

“Baby I am only going to be at training for maybe 2 hours.” She laughed into the crook of your neck when you simply couldn’t let go of the defender. You tried your best not to cry, it would make everything hurt more. The smell of coconut and vanilla filled your nose as you buried yourself into her. You would never forget her scent.

“I will miss you, always.” You said into her chest, hiding your emotions with a solid tone. A deeper meaning in your words that thankfully Leah didn’t pick up on.

“I will miss you too. Goodbye Baby, see you after training!” She screamed out as she walked out the door.

And that was the last time you had seen Leah. You left, leaving your shared home with every belonging you had.

Leaving only a small note on the side of your bed that read:

“I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you. You deserve someone that can commit to you. You deserve the Earth. I will miss you, always.”

You would’ve given Leah the Earth, but there are other planets too.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #woso one shot #woso soccer #woso blurbs #womens soccer #woso couples #leah williamson x you #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson

[princessbrunette]

jj coming home from work or hanging out with the pogues to see you in the backyard laying on a tanning chair with your tinyyyyyyyy pink string bikini and he just can’t control himself he’s just a man 🤷‍♀️

-🪞

thinking about this but it’s with bsf!jj who you’ve done sexual stuff with maybe one or twice? but you never spoke about it afterwards and he kinda doesn’t know what the two of you are and if you’re ever gonna let him do it again ?? so he’s constantly just on edge w loads of sexual tension and mm !!

⋆˙⟡🥥♡🤍౨ৎ🍥˚˖𓍢ִִ໋

it’s late afternoon when he’s arriving back at the chateau to stay. john b was driving off somewhere following a lead, and pope and kie had gone home for the day so it was just going to be jj. jj and you.

he walks right past you at first, swinging his set of keys round his finger and humming, well — rapping to himself. ice ice baby, you seem to recall? you were in a doze, laying on your front on the lawn on a towel, brain barely picking up on his presence. he’s whistling the chorus as he strolls towards the shack, before noticing you, and doing a full 180 to walk back towards you, the whistling drawing closer.

“w—hey there, pretty lady.” he calls out, pulling his shorts up boyishly as you lift your head, a little sleepy from the amount of time laying out in the sun.

“hi, jayj.” you hum, pushing up onto all fours so you could stretch your back, arching it and letting out a sigh through your nose as you come back to reality. he blinks rapidly like he’s trying to take screenshots of his eyes, gazing over your soft form in your ever so tiny pink bikini.

“what’cha doing out here all alone?” he digs his boot into the grass, differentiating between eyeing you up and looking at the ground like he just couldn’t handle it.

“was just soaking up the sun but i think it’s going behind a cloud now. what time’sit anyway?” your voice is all soft and sleepy and it makes it hard for the blonde to focus, blinking at you a few times before hes realised you’d asked him a question and he jumps into action, pulling up his wrist to theatrically look at his clock.

“it is… just comin’ up on 5– i’m sorry just to… circle back real quick,” he scrunches his nose, drawing a quick circle in the air with his finger pointed up. “i have not seen that bikini before is it — is it new or?” he rests his arm casually against a rogue tree branch standing at the height of his ribs, nearly missing it entirely at first, fingers rubbing below his nose, antsy.

you look down at yourself, taking it upon yourself to adjust the pretty pink triangles on your chest, jostling your tits as you do so, making sure they’re fitted perfectly over you. the act in itself seemed genuinely innocent from your part, but jj’s eyebrows jumped up as he shifted desperately on his feet, clearing his throat — it’s as if his sudden movement were to direct his blood flow to literally anywhere else, diverting it from where it was inevitably headed.

“yeah! it was on sale. d’you like it?” you’re looking up at him with those cutesy doe eyes from where you knelt on your towel and it was taking him everything to control himself. why did he have to be such a guy?

“uh, do i have a working set of eyes? yeah… i love it… takin’ like… mental polaroids here.” he trails off before he says something crazy, swaying on his feet, indulging himself to take another look at the way the two piece clings to your body. you climb to your feet happily, taking your time to pick up your belongings that laid out beside you, your sunglasses, water bottle and phone. once you’d gathered them into your arms, you walk up to jj casually, already smiling.

“so do you wanna help me out of the bikini? or…” your grin grows when you see his jaw drop right there infront of you, holding his gaze for a moment as you walk past him, heading towards the chateau leaving him frozen for a few seconds.

“wh— uh, yes— yes ma’am.” he nods, turning and jogging after you.

⋆˙⟡🥥♡🤍౨ৎ🍥˚˖𓍢ִִ໋

#🪞 anon #jj maybank prompt

[wearywinchester]

In the Rain

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When Dean forgets to pick you up, the pouring rain is relentless on your walk back home.

Warnings: angst, arguing, fluff

You waited in the library entrance for at least half an hour by yourself, the downpour outside only getting heavier the more time that went by. Dean had told you he would pick you up from campus at around six, you even reminded him earlier that day for that matter. But the closer it got to seven the more you figured he wouldn’t show up.

He was never late.

The tears were welling up by now and you stood up, frustratedly slinging your bag over your shoulders before you pushed open the heavy glass door. You didn’t have an umbrella, and your hood didn’t do you any good as you rushed along the sidewalk, your thoughts starting to get the better of you.

Maybe it was just an honest mistake and he forgot. Or maybe he didn’t really care and found something better to do. Your mind tricked you into believing that was the only possible explanation.

You wrapped your arms around yourself tightly to stay as warm as possible, the rain quickly soaking through your jacket. The wind was damn near impossible the bear, putting chills straight through to your bones. It was nearly dark and your heart was pounding at the thought of being alone.

You were thankful when you saw your apartment complex, and you were thankful it wasn’t a lengthier walk, picking up your already fast pace, sighing once you got inside.

Your shoes made an uncomfortable sloshing sound with each step you took, clothes sticking your your skin along with the fall weather nearly making you freeze. Not to mention the stares you had gotten in the lobby.

When you stepped in your apartment you locked the door behind you, taking off your backpack. While you were opening it you could already see the rain soaked through pretty much everything, your text book pages having been wrinkled and warped, and the months worth of notes you had taken since the new quarter looked the same as your book, the words you’d written now bleeding into each other till it was barely understandable.

You threw everything down with an angry groan, backpack thudding to the floor in a pathetic mess. Then your phone vibrated, then again, and again. When you looked you saw messages from Dean, and it only made you more frustrated, tossing your phone on the bed before you stomped off to your bathroom. You hadn’t bothered to read them, not yet.

It was next to impossible trying to get out of your clothes, your arms growing tired trying to get your long sleeve shirt off and the anger was enough to send you over the edge. The tears you had been holding back flowed now, steady one after another down your cheeks as you put the last item of soaked clothing in the hamper, wrapping a clean towel around yourself.

If Sam weren’t over at Stanford, he’d pick you up, you thought to yourself. Maybe you were being over dramatic about it all. But it was just the icing on the cake after the crappy day you’d had. And it had left your insecurities to run ramped and you were too tired to rationalize it.

Just as you pulled your sweatshirt over your head your phone rang again. “Stop calling me, Dean.”

“Sweetheart, would you just let me explain?”

“Explain what? You forgot about me. That’s it. I walked home because you forgot. If you don’t care, that’s fine.”

With that you hung up before your voice could give out and let him know you’d been crying.

No, it was not fine.

With a huff you climbed into bed, switching on the tv to try and distract yourself. Fighting with Dean was never something either of you wanted to do, and it didn't happen very often. It was over something so trivial too the more you thought about it. He never picked you up, didn’t even tell you he’d be late. Nothing. You had a right to be a little upset with him, maybe not quite so harsh but you’d already yelled at him now.

Sighing, you pressed play on the remote and tossed it to the empty space next to you, scooting down beneath the blankets. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't focus on the show you'd put on, too in your head about him. After all, you never let him explain, though you were sure your insecurities wouldn’t listen. The whole situation was a mess, torn between playing into your thoughts of if he really even cared about it and being understanding of what had happened. Your head spun with every thought and scenario and you sighed, rubbing your eyes frustratedly.

It’d been about an hour, a knock at your door waking you from your half sleep a little startled. You checked the clock on your phone, 9:23 pm. And there were more messages and calls from Dean. You got up, heading for the door, heart skipping a beat when you opened it. You nearly slammed it in his face but he caught it with his foot and you rolled your eyes, turning to walk back to your room.

“Sweetheart,” He drew out, closing the door behind him.

“Don’t call me that,” You grumbled.

“Hey,” He grabbed your wrist and spun you around to face him, face softening at the sight of your tears. “You know I wouldn’t do that on purpose, don’t you?”

You were quiet, looking anywhere but at him as you tried to tug your arm out of his grip. When you did, you retreated back to your room but of course he followed.

“Just leave me alone, Dean. You don’t have to pretend you care,” you snapped, hating the way your voice cracked.

“Y/n, Bobby needed an extra hand at the shop and I lost track of time. Will you stop being so dramatic?” He said a little louder.

He immediately regretted the words the moment the leave his mouth. Dean Winchester, notorious for saying stupid things, notorious for not thinking before he speaks.

“Dramatic? Screw you, Dean. I didn’t ask you to come here and yell at me.” You turned away before he could really see you cry.

He was quiet then, probably because he knew you were right, tears running down your cheeks again. He knew he messed up just now, and he knew he messed up a few hours ago. And getting defensive the way he does certainly adds fuel to the fire. He knew he was the bad guy right now and he could accept that.

“Just go h–“

You cut yourself off when you turned around, your books in his hands as he tried to flip through the pages, guilt on his face when he saw that it wasn’t salvageable. The feeling sat heavy in his stomach like a rock, growing heavier the more time that passed.

He set them down gently, rain dampened hair flopping over his forehead as he stood up. His mouth opened to say something but he closed it again, instead wrapping you up in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, kissing your cheek, and then your nose. You didn’t know whether it was the hug or that look on his face, but you lost it, burying your face against his chest. He held you tighter, shushing you in an attempt to calm you down, and after a few minutes it did.

“No, I’m…I should’ve just waited for you.”

He brushed your hair away from your face, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That thing where you blame yourself.”

“It’s true,” you shrug, wiping your face with the back of your hand. You brushed by him to get out of that room and into somewhere that felt less confined at the moment. He kicked off his boots and his wet jacket, hanging it on the coatrack. “You don’t have to stay because you feel bad for me. It’s fine.”

He gave you a look of disagreement, shoulders slumped at the way you were acting. “It’s more than just this, isn’t it?”

“It was just a bad day, Dean. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter when it’s getting you upset like this,” he reasoned with a louder voice and you rolled your eyes, letting out a big sigh. “You know I won’t make you talk, but at least let me be here.”

You leaned against the counter for a moment, rubbing your hands over your face. He wasn’t leaving and you knew that. “Okay. I guess you can stay.”

You were caught up in your own head for a little bit, Dean’s feet coming into view while your eyes were focused on the floor. You grabbed his hands, noticing the black grease still under his nails and smudged on his hands, rubbing your thumbs across them gently. The sight only made you feel worse, so much worse.

It wasn’t because he didn’t care, not even a little. It was because of exactly what he’d told you, what he’d been trying to tell you this whole time.

“‘M sorry for getting mad,” you said softly, dropping his hand to brush the hair away that stuck to his forehead.

His hair was still plenty wet from the rain, the occasional drop falling from the end. And you brush it away, running your fingers through it to get his hair out of his eyes. You always did like the longer hair choice, no matter the fact that either looked good.

Things fell silent again and you sighed quietly, hand falling back to your side.

“You’re all wet,” you say softly, and he can hear the guilt in your voice.

That smile of his appears, a soft chuckle leaving his lips that makes you frown and furrow your brows.

“It’s alright,” he shrugs. “I ain’t gonna melt, sweetheart.”

You narrowed your eyes a little more.

“You pickin’ on me, Dean?” You ask, and you watch that smile get a little bigger. “Of course you are.”

You try your best to sound grumpy, to sound ever so displeased, but it never worked. Never. Especially not as he chuckled again, that stupid laugh of his that you loved more than anything. Especially not as he pulled you in close, despite his rain soaked clothes. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Not as he nestled in against you.

And even despite the fact that he was all wet with rain, despite all that, the warmth from his body heat still radiated through to you and blanketed you in it.

“I suppose I’ll forgive you this time,” you murmur, tipping your head back to look at him.

“Oh good,” he hums, barely getting the words out before he dips down to kiss you, his lips warm and lingering.

You could never stay mad at him, no matter how hard you tried to.

—

Taglist: @harrysweasleys @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @campingmonkey @lanea-1 @deandaydreaming @agalliasi @malindacath @ajreturnstocringeyaccount @deanswaywardgirl @awkward-and-indecisive @drownthewitch @happyt0exist @sparkycorleone @humanmistakes @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @nyotamalfoy @elliewigginton20 @wandering-winchesters @senjoritanana

#dean winchester #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fic #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfiction

[moremaybank]

Nasty thoughts: Rafe spitting in my mouth while choking me.

Sucking JJ’s dick while he’s trying to have a conversation 😏

splitting this up into two bc i just can't resist 🤪 (mdni)

rafe

"keep your eyes on me. i need to make sure you know who owns this fucking pussy." rafe’s hand tightens around your throat as the other one pushes down on the back of your thigh, opening you up. with sharp and hard movements, he works his cock into you repeatedly. "open your mouth," he orders. you struggle through your whimpers, but you manage to obey him. he gathers his saliva and spits it onto your flat tongue. "swallow." once again, you oblige and swallow his spit. he uses his grip on your throat to draw your face closer to his. he kisses you, slithering his tongue into your mouth and fighting for dominance. at the same time, he jams his cock against your cervix. you whine into his mouth, feeling tears brimming in your eyes and flowing down your cheeks the deeper he goes. "such a good fucking girl for me. i love making you cry with my cock. reminds me how needy you are for me."

jj

“no, jb, i said— oh, shit,” jj’s cut off by the gasp he lets out when your fingers circle his shaft. you spit onto the tip and watch it dribble downward toward his balls. then, tapping the tip against your tongue, you feel him twitch in anticipation. “don’t mind me, baby. go ahead. finish your conversation. just wanna suck on your cock for awhile.” he gulps but nods at you, far too hypnotized by your sultry eyes to say no. “n-nah, i’m still here. i was just saying that— fuck!” you take his cock deep, letting his tip hit the back of your throat. you massage his balls in your hand, playing with them just right as you lap at his cock like a melting scoop of ice cream. "yeah, i-i'm good. i'll just— i'll meet you there." he hangs up the phone, tossing it to the side before threading his fingers into your hair. he gains a tight grip on your head after doing so, and he starts to fuck your mouth. "you're gonna regret that, pretty girl. i'm gonna bruise your perfect throat with my cock."

concepts

#₊‧°𐐪 daydreams 𐑂°‧₊ #₊‧°𐐪 asks 𐑂°‧₊ #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron brainrot #rafe cameron brain rot #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank brainrot #jj maybank brain rot #rafe cameron x you #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #jj maybank x you #jj outer banks #jj obx

[ssahotchnerr]

how about doing a birthday celebration with the team for aaron and he feels overwhelmed bc he’s so used to doing nothing for his birthday since haley passed and felt alone even with jack <333

celebrated

happy birthday aaron 🥹<33 cw; established relationship, mentions of haley, aaron self deprecating (it's sad - i'm sad), references to alcohol, mentions of food, hurt to comfort wc; 1.4k

about an hour or so in, you found aaron in the kitchen, half sitting-half resting against the counter. the man of the hour had been missing in action; he'd gone in search of a drink a while ago and had yet to return.

it was november second, aaron's birthday, and the first birthday you were spending with him. naturally, you wanted to go all out, for aaron to feel nothing but loved on his special day.

it wasn't a surprise party, aaron had been aware the whole time (you knew he didn't favor surprises too much), but had zero part in planning. he was only aware of the time jess were to drop over to pick up jack for the night, and the time of which the others would be arriving at the apartment. which, had been swallowed up with balloons, colorful streamers, confetti was scattered across the floor (which truthfully you were dreading picking up later, and hopefully you all wouldn't still be finding pieces for the next month), a banner was hung on the wall. his team were all in attendance, drinks were flowing, lively conversations were being had, a table of god only knew how many appetizers.

it was going nearly as perfectly as you had visualized, mind the part where aaron snuck away.

"hey, you alright?" you sidled up to him, your hand comfortably resting on his back.

aaron nodded, meeting your eyes as he lifted his drink to his lips. his eyes maintained their usual soft glow, but appeared down. "all good."

you weren't convinced, your puzzlement clear. "but you're hiding?"

"i wouldn't call it hiding." he chuckled softly, a sigh leaving him as he set his glass of whisky down. "just soaking it in? the night's been great, don't get me wrong. but it feels... strange."

you moved in front of him to wrap your arms around his middle, pulling him flush against you. "can i ask why?"

"the last time i had a banner," aaron chuckled again, a melancholiness suddenly overtaking him. "jack was practically a newborn - haley's doing."

"oh."

"yeah." aaron's hand ran up and down your back instinctively, mindlessly drawing shapes. "brings back memories."

"god i can only imagine." you sobered, tucking yourself more into his chest. your ear was pressed against him, hearing his steady heartbeat.

"i guess overwhelmed is the correct word to describe it. haley always went all out, then the divorce happened and then..." an exhale left him. "birthdays since, never did anything. i guess it was acknowledged but never celebrated. come to think of it, i don't think i've ever celebrated with the team."

as if on cue, a loud commotion came from the other room - team mid-drinking game.

once it had died down, you queried, "how come?"

aaron continued, the hand on your back rising to the surface just below your neck, finger pads pressing into your skin comfortably. "some years we were on a case, penelope hosted her Día de los Muertos parties, or everyone was still recovering from halloween. trust me, i'm sure no one would be too keen on partying again the next night. and you know me, to them, i'm not the heartfelt, full of life, approachable type. not worth it." he laughed, but it was more so an attempt to brush it off.

but it didn't sit right with you - of course it didn't. "did you ever say something about it?"

"it's okay." it wasn't, and he didn't answer your question. "i felt alone, sure, but when didn't i? i managed, and just took jack out for ice cream if i happened to be around. i don't think he ever knew the reason why, either."

you craned your head up to look at him. this surprised you. "you never told him?"

"it's," aaron paused, exhaling a breath. "complicated. he knows but he doesn't. he's young, the only dates he's technically supposed to remember at seven are christmas, halloween, his birthday." aaron shook his head, feeling almost silly. "what was i supposed to do, just out of the blue state, 'it's my birthday'?"

"well, it wouldn't have hurt. he could've made you a card, or wished you happy birthday at the bare minimum."

"i didn't want to inconvenience him-"

"aaron," you laughed sadly, your heart shattering at the same time. "he's your son."

"it's okay." there it was again. "my birthday wasn't a huge deal growing up anyway. if i wasn't as gravely punctual as i am and paid attention to the date, it most likely would pass as any other, normal day."

you fell silent; having so much to say, but having no idea how to fully express it. you just felt, sad. for him.

aaron sensed your dropping demeanor, and placed a kiss on your forehead to hopefully counter it. "it doesn't matter much now. i have you."

"but yet, you're still here rather than out there." you nudged your head towards the direction of the distant yells. "and i didn't even think about you potentially getting overwhelmed, i'm sorry. this party, it's an almost drastic change come to think of it, and i should've-"

"are you kidding?" astonishment reigned in his voice. "the fact that you went through all this - planning, coordinating, decorating - for me. it makes up for all those years alone. and i'm not just saying that because i love you." he gave you a cheeky expression, but you knew he was only playing it up to lighten the situation, despite his genuineness. "even breakfast with jack in bed this morning. i never pictured myself as the type to get breakfast in bed, stuff like that doesn't happen to me. it was really, really special, thank you."

"well, you better get used to it." a rush of air left your nose - makeshift laughter - as you thought back to earlier in the day. "not only was it a hit for you, but jack as well. he already brought up pancakes instead of waffles, with sprinkles, for next year."

a laugh shook through aaron's chest, jostling you a bit, before he fell silent, his fingers brushing through your hair soothingly.

"you deserve to be celebrated." you offered softly, the solemness reentering your heart, although it never left.

it weighed heavy on you - the man who gave you everything, who made you feel like you were everything, and who deserved it even more, defining himself as close to nothing. it was in complete aaron fashion, but you wished he wouldn't downplay, everything about himself, or make up 'rational' excuses to be okay with being overshadowed. he wasn't only meant to be there for others, to be thinking of others - he deserved happy, simple things too.

aaron's expression started to pull into one of disagreement, but you were quick to halt it. "hey, no. you deserve to be celebrated. i can't even tell you how much your existence means to me. being with you, doing life with you, seeing you be the best dad to jack and the most integral leader to the team. they value you, trust you, and you're family to them. they wouldn't be here tonight if you were some hard ass who wasn't worth it. that's not you. and i thank the stars every day you're here with me."

"honey-"

"please. say it."

nothing short of longing was cast on your face, in your eyes, and aaron were suddenly afraid that if he didn't admit so, the tears would start rolling.

he sighed, "i deserve to be celebrated."

"no, you gotta say it like you mean it."

aaron playfully rolled his eyes, but caved, his tone more forceful this time around. "i deserve to be celebrated."

"you're damn right, and you better start believing it."

aaron took a deep breath, pressing his lips to yours. "with you around, i will. thank you, i love you."

you returned the kiss, giving his chest an affectionate pat. "c'mon, let's rejoin your party."

you started exiting the kitchen, but aaron stayed put. when you looked back, another melancholy expression painted his face, and standing there, he almost looked younger for a moment.

"babe?"

"it is nice. not feeling like a drill sergeant for once."

your lips tipped into a smile as he moved closer, brushing your hands along his torso as soon as he was in reach. "they love you."

one of his rare, small but charming smiles adorned his face, brown eyes aglow. "i know."

"i love you."

aaron grabbed one of your hands, allowing you to lead him back to his party.

"i know."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine