#<- say what you want about color splash but they knew how to make a good shy guy /hj

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

In Another Life

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, Dean POV

Summary: When Dean wakes up in another life with you, he begins to question your friendship and realizes that he has loved you all along. But how can he change that? (I’m so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Tropes: Angst, Fluff, Pregnancy Fluff, Mutual Pining

Word Count: 5.5K (I have an addiction don't judge me)

Warnings: I don’t think there’s any. I’ll say mention of gore, but for one second. Maybe one allusion to sex, but not really.  Some swearing (once or twice). Dean might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Dean’s perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. This is my first time writing for Supernatural, so please be gentle. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics

Main Masterlist

*********************************************

Dean couldn’t remember what happened last night only that the bed beneath him felt like an old friend welcoming him home. The night before ghosted across his mind, hovering just out of reach, memories of a dream barely forming from a fog of uncertainty. He fades in and out of sleep in a mist that soothes his aching body.

“Dean?” A soft voice whispers.

Dean groans and squeezes his pillow tighter against his chest to avoid waking up. He didn’t care what time it was, all he knew was that he didn’t want to get out of bed.

“Leave me alone Sammy.” He grumbles into the pillow.

“Dean.” The voice says again, this time with a happy laugh that sounds nothing like Sam.

His eyes open,  blinded by the sunlight that streams through the large windows on the other side of the bedroom.

Wait. Where am I?

“Dean we have to get up or we’ll be late for the party.”

Dean looks towards the voice and  realizes that he’s not squeezing a pillow, it’s you. You’re facing him, hair fanning out over the pillow beneath your head, eyes wide and crinkled around the edges, smiling at him.

“Y/n?” Dean says it hesitantly, arms tightening around your waist.

“No no no. Don’t look at me like that. I will not be roped into staying in bed. We can’t be late for your mom’s birthday party and you promised you would come with me to pick up the cake.”

“But-“ Dean couldn’t remember how he got here, only that something feels wrong.

“No buts.” You giggle, before leaning forward and kissing him.

Dean freezes, confused, but the soft movement of your mouth against his erases any uncertainty. He eases his face forward nudging his nose into yours to deepen the kiss. Dean doesn’t know how he got here, but all he knows is how natural it feels to be here with you. Before he can stop himself he rolls you over your back, bringing a moan from you that vibrates though his skull. His fingertips blaze a trail along your hips.

“Easy there tiger.” You smile up at him. “You don’t want to crush Zeppelin.”

Dean’s confusion makes you laugh, before he finally looks down between you. “You’re pregnant.” He whispers, noting the protrusion of your abdomen.

“I mean I think so.” You laugh in a way that makes his heart jump and buckle.

Dean lays his hand down on the smooth skin where your shirt pushes up. Why can’t I remember this? He thinks to himself confused, searching for memories he can’t recall.

“I believe we’ve talked about it several times. And it was you who decided to stay up until 4 am painting the nursery.” Your hands gently brush his hair back out of his face. “You did such a good job baby.”

Dean reaches for the memory, but he can’t seem to

 grasp it. “I did?”

“Mhmm. Look at you, you’re still covered in paint.” You smile wider picking up the hand that rests on your belly to show him the splashes of cream colored paint flecked along the back of his hand. And as you do he notices the ring on your left hand.

“Are we married?” Dean tries again to grasp for his memory but comes up empty handed. He strokes his thumb along the back of yours examining the ring.

I should remember that. How could I forget that we’re married?

“Feigning amnesia will not make me stay in bed with you. No matter how cute you are.”  You gently lay your hand against his chest pushing him back so you can sit up in bed.

Dean can’t help but notice how beautiful and carefree you look. Hair catching fire in the light from the window, t-shirt brushing against the top of your thighs, and how you smile at him with so much love it makes something catch in his chest.

“Dean?” You suddenly look worried. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “I’m just tired I guess.”

His cell phone rings where it sits on the nightstand, drawing his gaze to the alarm clock and car magazine that sit on top of the dark wood.

“You better answer that. It’s probably Sam asking us where we are.” You kiss him on the cheek, before standing up and walking into the closet on the edge of the bedroom.

Dean watches you go, his eyes tracing your familiar figure as you leave the room, before reaching for his phone.

“Hey where are you guys? Jessica’s freaking out because you haven’t brought the cake.” Sam’s  voice triggers another memory for Dean, but this one remains allusive.

“Sam?”

“Dean.”

“Um.”

“Dean are you hungover or something?”

“No. Sorry, just running a little late-“ Dean apologizes looking around the bedroom. It’s small, filled with light from the open window that shows a quaint backyard. The dresser on the wall opposite the bed has photos of him and you, photos of Sam and Jessica, and a photo of Mary and John Winchester. Dean’s eyes stop on the photo as a memory triggers at the back of his mind, but Sam interrupts the thought.

“Well come on. Dad’s not going to like it if you guys miss mom’s birthday-“

“Dad?” Deans memory spikes again and he sees his father sitting in the drivers seat humming along to a song on the radio. Another memory flashes, Dean and his father standing behind the impala with Sam looking into the trunk.

“Yes dad. Your boss. Our father. Dean are you okay? Y/n said that you were painting the nursery last night all by yourself. You could have told me. I would have come over to help-“

“I’m alright Sammy.”

But he doesn’t feel alright, something is definitely wrong.

“Okay well hurry up. I’ll see you when you get here.”

Dean hangs up the phone and sits on the end of the bed with it in his hand.

You walk back into the room wearing a green sundress. Your hair is soft again, falling over your shoulders in a way that makes Dean’s breath catch, effortlessly beautiful.

A memory of you wearing jeans and a leather jacket washes across his mind of you standing with him at the back of the Impala reaching in for a shotgun while he knocks your hand away.

“Dean?” You walk towards him, this time standing between his legs. You place your hands on his shoulders and he can’t help but turn to look at the wedding ring. “Are you sure you’re okay? Because if you’re not feeling well we don’t have to go today. I can call your dad. But I just thought your really wanted to go. You hate missing your mother’s birthday. It’s usually you that drags me out of bed.” You trail your hand against the side of his face with a worried expression, to turn his gaze back on you.

Someone deep in the back of his mind the expression triggers something and he sees a memory of you. Except you’re holding a machete in your right hand that drips blood on the floor but, the look of worry in your eyes the same.

Where could that be from?

“I don’t know.”

“Hey.” You whisper, sitting down in his lap and his arms can’t help but secure you there, burying his head in your shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I’m scared too.”

“What?” Dean raises his head from your shoulder

“We’ve talked about this. You’re going to be a great dad. And honestly we probably won’t know what we’re doing, but that’s how everyone starts.” Your fingertips drag through his hair in a soothing motion.

Dean tries again to grasp at earlier memories of this life, early memories of you, but all he sees are motel rooms. Motel rooms where you sleep on a pullout couch in a corner and where Sam sits  at a small table shuffling through endless books and papers.

Why?

Dean can’t understand, because that life seems so different than this one. This one where you look softer and happier, where you share a bed and are married. He thinks about the other memories, where your smile is not as bright, where there’s a hardness to your face, but still just as beautiful. Another memory of him and you sitting in a bar drinking beer, another of you laughing at something he said and hitting him, and finally one of you reading in bed while Dean sits at a motel table and watches you softly turn the pages.

Deep down Dean knows in his bones that in those memories  you and him are just friends, but he allows himself to indulge in your touch, enjoying the comfort that comes with being with you.

“It’s not about the baby.” Dean sighs. “I just can’t remember how we got here.”

“Here?”

“Married.” His arms tighten around your waist not wanting to let go. You’re the only thing he recognizes in all of this.

“Um well, my car broke down and I brought it to a mechanic shop where I met a devilishly handsome man with green eyes.” You smile at him. “Who refused to let me leave until he bought me dinner.”

Dean stares at you.

“Practically kidnapped me. But you were so charming I couldn’t resist.” You lean closer to whisper in his ear. “Not to mention sexy covered in grease and wearing a meatloaf t-shirt.” You kiss him before he can respond, and he loses himself in you. The way you hold him close, the way your fingers work up into his hair to secure him right where he wants to be, and the way you feel in his arms wipes away any uncertainty. “As much as I’d like to go back to bed with you, we’re going to be late.” You whisper against his lips.

And Dean allows himself to be dragged away.

*********************************************

“Did you remember to order the parts for that ‘76 Camaro right?” John Winchester asks Dean, but Dean’s not focused, he can’t focus on anything.

The drive over to his parents house was different. Instead of sitting on the opposite side of the front seat of the impala, you had sat in the middle, holding his hand and leaning against his shoulder, humming softly.

It made driving for Dean especially difficult. The memories of you in his car that came across his mind while he drove distracted him.

You  in the backseat shouting something at Dean while he completely ignored you rolling his eyes, you sitting in the front seat with a map trying to direct him while Sam slept in the back, you singing to “The Eye of the Tiger” with him while Sam tried to close his ears, and finally you asleep in the front seat with Dean’s jacket draped over you.  That last one stayed in his mind. He liked how you looked wrapped up in his jacket, breath fogging the glass window, while Dean tried his best to drive smooth and slow so you wouldn't wake.

But you in the front seat holding his hand and leaning against his shoulder while humming along to the music blew all of those memories out of the water. All Dean wanted to do was exist there and then.

When you both arrived at his parents home Dean tried not to be disappointed. Now he was too distracted watching you talk and laugh with Jessica and his mother across the room to listen to anything his father said.

“Dean are you listening?” His dad tries again.

“Huh?” The cold beer in Dean’s hand drips condensation against his skin. He turns to look back at his father.

Another memory of him momentarily distracts Dean, this one of John leaving Dean and Sam in a motel room so he can go hunting.

Did we ever go hunting? Dean tries to think of a time where they went out into the woods to shoot some deer, but comes up empty handed. A few memories of him and Sam toting guns rise to the surface, but he can't remember why they had them.

"You'll have to excuse Dean, he's still mentally painting the nursery." Sam snorts into his beer.

"Shut up."

"Don't tease him Sam. I'm sure that Jessica will have you turn your office into a nursery before you know it." You appear on Dean's left, raising his arm around you so you can lean into his side. Dean automatically tightens his arm around your shoulders.

"Don't joke about that y/n."

"Uh-huh. You can't hide in that big fancy law firm forever. She'll find you." You smile up at Dean in a way that makes his heart feel like its stopped beating.

Why can't I remember any of this life?

"She's right." Jessica comes over to kiss Sam on the cheek.

"I do not hide at the firm-" Sam rolls his eyes.

"You do."

Mary Winchester comes over. "Are you fighting at my birthday party?"

Dean's father puts his arm around his mother, pulling her into his chest with a smile he hides by taking a swig of beer.

"No mom, we're not-"

"Sounded like a fight to me." You whisper to Dean, and he can't help but smile at you.

"It's not a fight y/n!"

"Don't yell at my wife Sammy." Dean says before he can stop himself. He thinks about how natural it sounded coming out of his mouth.

His wife. You're his wife. He thinks and presses a kiss to the top of your head that makes you sigh into his chest.

"I'm not yelling at y/n." 

"Sam we're just teasing you." Jessica laughs, placing her hand against his chest. Dean notices the ring on her own finger, and a memory of Jessica rises in the back of his head. Jessica standing in the darkness of an apartment, while Dean holds on to the front of Sam's shirt, her eyes wide and confused.

But it vanishes when you wince in his arms. Dean's eyes are drawn back down to you, worry spiking in his chest.

"I'm okay." You whisper. "Just think Zeppelin is hitting his limit."

"You guys go on home. I think that John has grilled Dean about the garage enough." Mary smiles, before taking a step forward to hug you. Dean is disappointed when you leave his arms, but smiles despite, watching you with his mother.

"Let the little linebacker get some rest." John hugs you.

"Of course. Thank you so much for letting us come. I'm sorry we were late." Dean watches the subtle blush of your cheeks as you apologize.

"I'm sure it's my son's fault." Mary moves to hug Dean.

As soon as she does Dean is overwhelmed by a surge of sadness as another memory of his mother rises in the back of his mind that he can't quite bring into focus.

"Mom?" Dean whispers.

"Hmm?" She looks up at him confused. "We'll see you on Tuesday for dinner. Okay?"

"Okay."

"We love you."

"I love you too mom." But something sticks in his chest when he says it.

“Don’t forget to order the parts.” John says shaking Dean’s hand.

“Sure.”

“Bye Jessica. Let me know if you need us to bring anything for Tuesday.” Dean watches you hug her and just for a moment Dean sees Sam holding a bouquet of flowers at a gravesite.

What is happening?

*********************************************

When Dean pulls the Impala into the driveway of your home something still feels wrong. After saying goodbye to everyone he still can’t shake the feeling that he forgot something. The radio plays "Black Dog" filling the silence as the car idles in front of the house.

“Dean!”

“What?” He turns to look at where you sit beside him in the front seat.

“Feel.” You grab one of his hands from the wheel and place it against your abdomen an excited smile gracing your cheeks. “Little future drummer."

The kicking against the palm of his hand makes Dean smile, leaning forward into where you sit beside him. Happiness breaks in his chest like the crest of a wave. He can't remember a moment in his life where he felt this happy, this much love for someone.

"Y/n?"

"Mhmm."

"I love you." Dean refuses to believe that he has said it to anyone else ever in his life, can't remember wanting to say it to anyone else, can't believe that he will ever want to say it to anyone else.

"I love you too."

He leans down to kiss you, hand still against your stomach, drawing you further into him to breathe you in. Everything else vanishes, just the feel of your soft lips against his, the tickle of your hair against his cheeks, and the pulse of his son's kicks against the palm of his hand.

But then it's all gone.

*********************************************

"Dean!" Sam's voice jars him into reality, his eyes opening to see his brother standing over him, one hand on his shoulder. "Dean are you okay?"

"What happened?" Dean sits up with a groan, ignoring the headache that throbs behind his eyes.

His eyes adjust to the dim light. He's in a long room where wooden tables sit every few feet covered in dust and machinery blanketed with old sheets. The musty smell fills his nose, replacing the smell of your shampoo that lingers under his nose from when you were in the front seat with him.

"Djinn ambushed you. Y/n and I got here as soon as we could."

"Y/n?" The memories of the dream strike him in the chest all over again, merging with memories of reality. "Where is Y/n?"

You enter the room out of breath, blood flecked across your cheeks and holding a baseball bat that drips a dark liquid onto the concrete floor. “It’s dead.”

"You sure?" Sam asks raising an eyebrow.

"There's enough brain matter on the floor in there for a zombie buffet." You shoulder the baseball bat. "So yeah, it's dead."

Dean’s eyes trace your body taking in the leather jacket and dark t-shirt his memory flashing to the green sundress and beautiful smile. You’re half-smiling, but Dean can see the hardness in your face again and understands where it comes from.

She wasn’t a hunter. He thinks of the dream version of you, where your hair fell in soft curls, but now it’s tied back in a ponytail. His eyes drop to your abdomen expecting more, but disappointment flicks in his heart. It wasn’t real.

“Dean are you okay?” You step closer to him. The smile has dropped now, replaced with a worried expression.

He flashes back to when you asked him that in the dream, when you sat on his lap and tangled your hands in his hair, sighing into his mouth as he kissed you.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

He traces your face again but every time he does he only sees the other version of you, the version that’s in love with him, married to him. And he knows that here you are just his friend.

“Yeah.” He says again standing up. “Let’s get out of here.”

The ride back to the motel is silent. Dean doesn’t put on any music, too afraid that it’ll remind him of the memory of you and him in the front seat while his son kicked against his hand. Instead, all he can think of was how happy he was in the other life, how in love with you he was-

Dean knew that it wasn’t just a fantasy, that he really is in love with you, but now after seeing how everything could be, it weighed on his chest. Each time you looked at him he wanted to pull you close to him, hug you, kiss you, but he knew you would pull away. Because this version of you was not his.

“I’m going to go to that diner on the corner. You guys want something?” Sam looks around the room expectantly, but Dean doesn’t look up from the carpet.

“Sure.” Dean hears you respond. “Maybe just a burger and a piece of pie. Preferably apple but I'll take cherry if they have it."

“Okay. Dean?” Sam asks again.

Dean shakes his head. He can’t eat. Not now.

Sam hesitates at the door worried. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t want anything.” Dean snaps.

“Yeesh don’t bite my head off.” Sam throws you a shrug before leaving.

Dean is aware that it’s just the two of you now, the memory of the two of you in bed surfaces making him tighten his grip on the edge of the blanket beneath him.

“Dean?” You whisper.

“What?” His voice comes out harsher than he means it to.

“What’s wrong? You can tell me.”

“Nothing is wrong.” But he can’t look at you, not when he knows he'll look up and you won't be pregnant and not when the other version of you still has a hold of his heart.

“Dean you’re my best friend I know when something’s wrong. Plus you haven’t been able to look at me since you woke up and you never say no to food.”

“I’m fine.”

“Dean-“

“Just leave me alone damnit!” He snaps at you, able to raise his gaze from the floor for one second. Dean immediately feels bad, watching the pain in your eyes as he pushes you away. But he lowers his eyes to the carpet once more to avoid your gaze.

You sigh, but don’t get angry with him. “If you don’t want to tell me that’s fine. I'll just leave you alone then.”

And as soon as you leave to take a shower he feels the loss of you beside him.

He listens to the sound of the shower, feels the passing of time, but he does not move. The memories of the dream rise and fall, replacing the darkness of the hotel room with brilliant light. The memory of the sun catching your hair on fire as you laid next to him in bed tracing your fingertips along his jaw, the memory of you in the front seat of the Impala leaning against him and humming while you hold his hand, the memory of the party where he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you tightly into his chest, and finally the memory of the last kiss you shared in the front seat of the Impala each dance across his mind. He acutely feels the loss of your body against his, the loss of your lips, and finally the sound of your voice telling him you love him while his son kicked against his hand.

“Dean?”

He looks up at you. You look softer than you did. The blood is gone from your cheeks, your hair falls over your shoulders still wet from the shower, effortlessly beautiful, he decides. You’re wearing one of his old t-shirts that he gave you and a pair of sweatpants. It does something to him, watching you stand there in his shirt. It hangs past your waist like a dress, making you look smaller than you are. The smell of your shampoo wafts out of the bathroom, something familiar that makes his throat tight.

“You know when that Djinn got me a few months ago it threw me for a loop too.” You say softly leaning against the doorway of the bathroom. “Everything felt so real. It was hard to tell what was real and what wasn’t.”

Dean remembers when that happened. When you vanished out of the blue while checking out a case alone and he and Sam tore apart the small town looking for you. Dean remembers how worried he was, how desperate he was to find you.

I loved her then too. Dean realizes looking at you. How did I not know?

Dean remembers the aftermath, when you woke up and wouldn’t look at him. How your gaze was almost haunted and how he had to carry you out of there because you couldn’t move. He remembers you laying in bed and turning away from him and Sam when they had asked you what was wrong and the following day when you acted like nothing happened.

“What did it make you see?” Dean whispers, noting the way you shift back and forth on your feet. He hadn't seen you nervous before, seen you face down demons and vampires without batting an eye, but now you looked vulnerable.

You look down at your feet.  “If I say it you can’t laugh.”

“I won’t.”

“Dean, I’m serious.”

“I promise I won’t laugh.” He watches the tension in your shoulders.

Why would she be afraid to tell me? We talk about everything.

“It was us.”

“What?” Shock tugs at his heart and for a second he thinks that he heard you wrong.

“It was us. We were married. We had 2 kids. My brother was still alive and my parents were talking to me again. I was happy there. It was hard to come back. Not that I’m not happy, but just that it’s hard to think you’ve lived a life that doesn’t exist. Especially one so different than all of this.” Dean watches you take in a deep breath, tapping your finger against your bicep, avoiding his eyes. “That was when I realized I was in love with you.” 

Dean’s heart stops beating. “What did you just say-“

You look up and smile tightly. “It’s when I realized I was in love with you. That’s why I was so messed up. I didn't know how to-“

Sam chooses that exact moment to walk in loaded with bags of food. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing much.” Dean watches you easily shift your expression to hide what just happened, smiling at Sam as if you hadn’t said the one thing that Dean had been trying to say to you since he woke up. “Just trying to convince Dean to let me work on Baby. I think I’m wearing him down.”

Dean had never realized how much of a good liar you were until this moment, sure he had seen you pretend to be a government agent, but this was different.

“Like that’ll happen.” Sam hands you a bag of food before turning to look at Dean. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Dean watches you pull out the burger, stunned by your confession.

You place the burger next to him on the bed. “Eat this. It’ll help.”

“But-“ He looks up at you, wanting to finish the conversation.

“I promise I’m not that hungry Dean. I’d rather have the pie. Unless you’re going to fight me for it?” You smile raising an eyebrow.

Dean doesn’t understand why you’re acting like you didn’t just say you were in love with him. He gazes at you, searching your face. For a second he sees the mask slip, but before he can comment it’s gone.

“No I won’t.” He whispers.

“Good.” You turn to the made-up pull out couch and fold your legs underneath you with the slice of pie balanced on your knee, before reaching into your bag for a worn paper back.

Dean sits there watching you turn the pages. She loves me. The memory of you in his dream in the front seat of the Impala whispering it to him doesn’t hold the same weight because now all he can hear is you saying it here, now.

Dean can’t move. He wished Sam would leave again. He wished Sam would leave so he could bring you into his chest and kiss you, so he could tell you the one thing he wished he said ages ago.

But he doesn't. All he does is sit there and watch you read.

*********************************************

A few hours after Sam and you have fallen asleep Dean lays in his bed and stares up at the ceiling. He can hear your soft breaths against the pillow, the crinkle of the sheets as you move in your sleep. Usually he allowed himself to fall asleep listening to you, but tonight all it did was keep him awake. Each time he shut his eyes he saw the memory of you in bed with him burning against his eyelids and each time he shut his eyes he heard the real you telling him that you loved him.

Finally, he can't take it anymore.

Dean gets up and makes his way over to the pull-out couch, pausing once to move the paperback book out from under your head. It wasn't the first time that you'd fallen asleep reading, and Dean thought it was cute.

He slides into the bed behind you, gently touching your shoulder to wake you as quietly as possible.

"Hmm." You inhale softly.

"Y/n." Dean whispers.

He watches you turn towards him, eyes blinking in the darkness to rouse yourself from sleep. You hair is flared out over the pillows, eyes hazy. “Dean what are you-“

Dean moves his arm to your waist before pulling you flush into his chest, lips finding yours. The memories of the kiss in his dream are everywhere, but none of them compare to this. You sigh into his mouth, bringing your hands into his hair. Dean breathes you in. You still taste like apple pie, body soft against his, lips smooth and welcoming.

“I love you too.” He whispers against your mouth, eyes finding yours in the darkness of the hotel room.

Your smile breaks him. “It made you see us didn’t it?”

“How did you know?”

“The way you looked when you came out. The way you looked at me. I think it’s the same way I looked at you when I woke up." You brush back his hair and Dean can't help but lean forward into your touch. "What did it make you see?"

“We were married. You were pregnant and I was working at a garage. My parents were alive. Jessica was alive-“

“Oh Dean.” You cup his cheeks with a sorrowful expression, before brushing your lips against his. “I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” Dean brings you into his chest, laying on his back so you can rest your head on his heart. His hand slowly traces up and down your spine. You both lie there for a few moments. The subtle beat of your heart soothing the sadness that rises with the memory of his mother and father. Your hand gently rests against his shirt, fingers curling into the soft fabric.

“I missed you.” He hears you whisper into his chest.

“What?” Dean doesn't understand. "Where did I go?"

“Not like that. I know that it sounds stupid, but we were so happy in the dream. It made me miss you, miss this.” He feels you rub your face into the front of his shirt.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Dean you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to lose any of this.” You prop yourself up look him in the eye. “I’m happy here with you and Sam. Y’all are my family and I didn’t want to jeopardize that just because I’m in love with you.”

“Did you think I would have made you leave if you told me that?” Dean can’t help but feel hurt. Sure it would have been awkward for a little bit, but I’d never do that to y/n.

“Not made me leave, more phase me out. It would have made all of this awkward and-“ He watches the weight settle on your shoulders as you press your forehead into the space between his collar bone and neck. “I’ve lost so many things. I didn’t want to lose you.”

Dean squeezes you to him. “You’re not going to lose me sweetheart.” He traces a fingertip under your chin to raise your face to his. “I love you. And even if I didn’t, you’re my family too. I wouldn’t make you leave just because it was a little awkward. We’ve all been through too much together for that.” Dean’s thumb rubs soft circles against your cheek.

“I love you too.” You whisper, the soft smile gracing your lips  mirrors the memory from the dream, but this time it fills him with warmth and comfort, because this time he knows it’s real.  It's not some Djinn messing with his head, it's you. You lean upwards to kiss him gently, while Dean weaves his hand through you hair to secure you to him.

But then you pull away, your smile slipping into a smirk. “So when you say family, are you saying you see me as a sister or a cousin? Because, I don’t know how things are in Kansas, but where I'm from, that's kind of a red flag.“

Dean sighs loudly. Before he rolls you over and pins you to the bed, pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss.

“Oh. So as a sister-“ You joke.

“You are one of the most annoying people on the planet.”

“I know. It’s why you love me.” You trace his lips with your index finger, gazing up at him the same way the dream version of you did.

Dean feels warmth trail behind your touch. “One of the reasons at least.”

But just as he leans to kiss you again-

“If you guys don’t shut up I’m not going to get any sleep.” Sam grumbles from his bed. “I could have told you two idiots, that you loved one another and it would have taken five seconds.”

“You don’t have to eavesdrop-“ You say glaring over in the direction of Sam’s bed.

“Kinda hard not to when you guys are making out. LOUDLY. I might add.”

“Gonna have to get used to it Sammy.” Dean snorts, before pushing your hair back behind your ear and drawing your gaze back to his face.

“Next time you guys are getting your own room.” Sam continues. “That way I can get some sleep.”

“Doesn’t seem very economical.” You say, but you’re gazing up at Dean again with the smile that makes him feel like he’d swallowed the sun. “I love you.” Your voice is barely a whisper.

“I love you too.” Dean leans down once more to capture your lips against his, erasing all semblance of everything else, except the feel of your body beneath him and the warmth that surges with each breath as the dream of you becomes a reality.

*********************************************

Thank you so much for reading!

[rottenaero]

Steve stares at the orange shorts Eddie was wearing.

It’s summer, and the kids had decided to have a Harrington house pool party, which of course meant wearing swim attire.

And Eddie had dressed for that, don’t get him wrong, but the pants were throwing him off.

One, because he doesn’t think he’s ever seen him wear orange before, or any warm color that wasn’t red, really. Didn’t think it’d ever touched his skin except for Steve’s yellow sweatshirt.

And two, because they were weirdly reminiscent of the color people wore in movies where they were behind bars, screaming for their one call.

And Steve didn’t have a filter, didn’t really care to have one, and since they were already sitting down all he need to do was nudge his foot against the guys side to catch his attention.

So he did.

The metalhead flicks down his sunglasses- Or, actually those may be Steve’s. Whatever, he flicks down the sunglasses with a brow raised.

“ Yeah, babe?”

Babe, because whatever they had was far more than friendship, or two older men acting like divorced parents to a group of children.

He lifts his hand, gestures to the pants. “ What’s with the prison shorts?” He asks.

Eddie blinks, glances down and smirks. “ Just broke out from there before this. Thought I told you.”

He tilts his head to the side. “ Oh really?”

“ Mhm-hm. A lot of pretty guys in there, hard to resist, but I held out. Knew I had something better.”

“ Shut up.” He rolls his eyes, and Eddie leans back into his chair shrugging. Then, because he’s a good boyfriend and knows he likes being all dramatic, and wants to see how long the bit will last, he questions him further, “ What were you in for?”

He sets the glasses over his forehead so they were out of the way, tugging on a strand of hair in-front of his face in thought. Finally, he grins.

“ Murdered people for rit-ualistic sacrifices.” The way he says ‘ritualistic’ is over exaggerated, but what about Eddie isn’t?

Steve gives him an unimpressed look. “ You’re not funny.”

“ No?”

“ No.”

Eddie shrugs, sets a leg over Steve’s lap. “ Worth a shot.”

Quick as a flash, the man’s arms clutch to his chest, and he’s rolling out of the chair making what seems to be dying noises.

Only, the chairs were set up by the edge, so without realizing it, after a roll or two he falls into the water.

There’s splashing, the desperate attempt to break through the surface before he finally grasps onto the edge and takes a big breath.

Steve can’t help the snort, and Eddie claps his hands together and points at him with an ‘ I told you so’ look. “ Ahah! So I am funny.” Steve rolls his eyes as the main hoists himself onto pavement, and crawls towards him.

“ Laugh for me, Stevie! Come on, again! Really let me revel in the fact that I proved King Steve wrong.” He’s got a wicked grin, and the jock can barely contain his own.

Finally, he’s weighed down, and he nudges the other man’s ankle with his foot. “ You’re a little funny. Mostly, you just look funny.”

Eddie whoops and cheers, shakes his imaginary pom-poms in the air. “ I’ll take it!” He leans down, smacks a kiss on his lips that’s really more teeth than lip, before lounging back down with his legs twisted between his.

Steve shakes his head, leans across the tangle of limbs to grab his sunglasses and slides them back on his nose.

[luimagines]

The Legendary Mermaid

Another commission!

They asked for a Legend and Reader where mermaids are involved. I'd explain more but I don't want to spoil it. XD

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Link didn’t think much of you at first. You were clumsy. Uncoordinated. One of the most ungraceful beings he has ever had the… um... pleasure to meet.

You spoke in broken Hylian but he could understand you well enough. When he stumbled into you on the beach he tried to go through the number of languages that he knew were native to the area but none of them seemed to click with you.

You were excitable and wobbly. You looked straight out of a ship wreck so you could have been from anywhere.

Still- Link wasn’t about to abandon you when you clearly had no idea where you were.

He took you into his village, set you up with a place to stay with some helpful neighbors and thought that his duty of care was done. He was wrong.

Turns out! You had a habit of running off in the middle of the day and going off to who knows where. The first time it happened, poor Gulley was in a tizzy trying not to panic because he thought you were just really good at hide and seek and he didn’t want you to miss dinner.But he couldn’t find you anywhere.

More people got involved.

They still had no idea where you went. Hours passed and the sun went down but no one had a clue where their strange and sudden visitor could have gone off to.

Link suddenly had the terrible thought that maybe you went off into the lake and something terrible happened. He ran as fast as he could but his panic happened to be unfounded.

You were there, soaking wet but otherwise unharmed, playing a small hermit crab that had somehow made it out of the water.

Link had half the mind to scold you, but your innocent giggles at the tiny creature had enough incentive to get him to calm down first. He bought you back where many of the aunties and elders fussed over you before giving you a warm bowl of soup and tucking you away for the night.

Your galavanting happened at least every other day. It didn’t take long for Link to realize that everytime you went missing, you were actually just by some body of water. 

He thought that maybe you just had a childish way of exploring. Or maybe you just liked to splash and swim. He wasn’t one to judge. He just wished you told people where you were going and when you planned to be back so no one would worry about you.

When you decided to stay in the village and interact with other humans for a change, you were like a fish out of water. 

You crashed into walls. You tripped over your own two feet. You would lose your balance at the oddest of times.

“Whoa!” Link caught you the arm before you could fall over and land face first into a pile of mud. “You know… You walk like a newborn deer.”

“What is deer?” You ask on impulse.

Link pauses and gives you a questioning look but decides to keep his judgment silent. Maybe there’s just no deer where you’re from. Somehow. Which would be strange considering how popular they are. Then again, you’ve never mentioned how you got to where they are or where you grew up. It seemed to be the only topic you actively avoided talking about.

“An animal.” Link says instead. “They have skinny legs and they begin walking on the day they’re born. The males have horns on their heads.”

“....Do they shine? Many colors?” You ask with a hopeful expression on your face.

Link hates to be the bearer of bad news, but he finds that he can’t lie to you. “Not really. They hide a lot so they look like golden grass and dried leaves.”

“Grass.” You stand up straighter, still holding onto his arm. “...Hm…”

Link has no idea how to respond to that.

“Yes.” He tries anyway. “They’re actually quite big once they’re fully grown. They’re majestic creatures.”

“Magic?” You tilt your head.

“No magic.” He shakes his head. “ Ma-ges-tic.”

“...Oh.” 

Is he going crazy or do you sound disappointed? Link swallows the spit in his throat, not sure why he feels the need to not only make you feel better, but to also impress you. “Most animals can’t do magic but they’re still very impressive. You know- if you want, we can always go into the forest and look for them. How’s that sound?”

You smile, but it doesn’t seem to reach your eyes.

Link feels his heart bob. He’s not sure if he’s doing this right. “Maybe tomorrow, yeah? After I’m done with my work in the forge, I’ll come look for you and we can go explore some more.”

Your eyes light up a little more genuinely and you nod enthusiastically to boot.

Link feels better about this suddenly.

Until tomorrow rolls around and you’re once again nowhere to be found.

Link wants to ram his head into the nearest wall. How could he forget? It was a ‘Go for a Swim Day’ today. It was part of your pattern. Did he just forget all his senses suddenly?

Groaning for the extra mileage he has to walk, he heads home first to collect some stuff for the journey. Surely you would be hungry at some point, right? Maybe he can make it a picnic too. There’s a nice spot that overlooks the valley that he knows of. You seem to be the type of person who enjoys the simple things his home has to offer.

Not only that but you seem rather focused on finding magical items. Or at least you try to find something magical in every nook and cranny. …He has a few magical items. That can impress you! He packs his magic mirror, his fire arrows and his mermaid tail. You’ll probably find a river or pond that you’d want to jump in. Since you love to swim so much, maybe he’ll join you just this once and show off a bit. Surely you’ve never seen anything like it.

Once he has everything set, he checks the nearby creek first- hoping you didn’t decide to splash around and find out.

Nothing.

Not a stone unturned and not a single piece of evidence that anyone had been here earlier. 

Link groans louder and turns on his heel to head down to the lake instead. He knows he’s being dramatic, but you’re not around to witness his pettiness, so he’s at liberty to do what he wants.

His feet are aching by the time he finally makes it to the lake. He kicks off his shoes to walk along the warm sandband before he begins his search anew. There’s not much that he thinks he has to look for. A bag? Some footprints? A discarded shirt or something? Your shoes by the side of the bank?

He finds… nothing.

“Where are you?” Link growls and flops onto the dirt. He pouts and puts his cheeks in his palms as he tries to think about what to do next. There goes his plans for the afternoon. And probably well into the evening at that. 

Link can’t help the sinking feeling of disappointment in his chest at the thought of being stood up. Not this was any big deal or anything- but he didn’t realize how much he was actually looking forward to this moment until he couldn’t have it.

Well.. He’s at the lake anyway. And he has the mermaid tail. He’ll get something for you. He can dive to the bottom of the lake and find something cool for you!

Link shimmies the tail on without a second thought and crawls into the water. The magic takes effect at once. He takes his first deep breath and pushes himself further into the cold. He feels his legs become intertwined with his item. The cold loses the sting the further he goes and although it takes a bit longer for his brain to adjust than he’d like, Link is quickly swimming deeper and deeper to where no other Hylian has gone before.

His eyes take longer to adjust. Considering he’s more worried about not forgetting that he can now breathe underwater, he’s still to ignore that little tidbit. All he has to do is swim straight down anyway.

Something moves to his left.

Link stops dead in his tracks.

“What?” He blurts. The sound he makes is warbled, broken as it always is when he tries to speak underwater.

In a split second, the figure blasts in front of him, sending him back a few feet. He brings up his arms to block any unwanted water from going up his nose and growls.

You poke his arm two seconds later.

“AH!” He screams without meaning to.

You seem just as perplexed and confused. You tilt your head and swim back just enough so that you can see him in his entirety. “Link?”

Your voice has changed too, but not quite like his does when he’s in this form. Your voice is clear as crystal and he can physically feel the waves it produces as they curl around his ears and his body.

He repeats your name with the same shocked reverence.

You break out into excited chitters and clicks, sounds he’s never heard before poke all around his body and he thinks he can feel the very effect they have on his brain.

You swim back over to him and twirl him around in earnest. You look delighted to see him here.

Link takes the moment to also look you over.

A mermaid.

He flushes when he sees more than he’s bargained for. Of course. What purpose do clothes serve to a mermaid?

You swim circles around him. The movement is graceful and borderline poetic, nothing like the way you move on land. Your tail was glittery and bejeweled with colors he hadn’t known could sparkle in the low light of the lake water. It trailed after you like a silk scarf or a skilled ribbon dancer.

He was staring.

You seemed to have caught on quickly that he was enthralled by your body. A part of you wonders why. Another feels the need to be embarrassed. You’ve dressed in the way of the finless for so long that you’ve almost adopted their shameful thinking to cover up one's form. The third and final part of you actually likes his attention. He’s impressed. Enamored, almost. This is the part of you that wins.

Smirking, you decide to metaphorically test the waters and dance around him some more, brushing your tail against his and pulling him this way and that with your dance alone. You swim away for just a second, wanting to play some more with the strange boy that can be of both worlds.

Link jolts out of the trance you’ve put him in and skips to follow you.

You laugh.

His breath catches in his throat at the sound of subtle trills and chirps. Link freezes completely in his spot. Your laugh tickles him even as he begins to sink from the lack of movement once more.

“You swim worse than a guppy.”

Link falters and the ethereal moment for him is shattered in an instant.

“Hey!” He says instead.

You laugh again, sending more pins and needles over his skin and tail and begin to swim laps around him, clearly showing off your superior swimming agility. You play with him some more, poking and annoying him but swimming away before he can retaliate and poke you back.

The game catches on from there.

Link is, unfortunately, in over his head and he has to admit proverbial defeat minutes into it. It doesn’t stop him from playing anyway. This is arguably the most free he’s ever seen you and he’s not about to ruin it anymore than his lack of grace does on its own.

It’s nice.

[leonslutkennedeeznuts]

Afternoon Delight | Leon x Fem!Reader

Leon wanted to say something smooth, a pickup line to really seal in the deal but instead he said “I think I’m too old for you actually. I’m sorry about all this.”

You didn’t seem fazed, almost amused by him even. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable at all, Leon,” you admitted. You leaned down, your breasts almost exposed to him now in your teeny tiny bikini top.

“Actually,” you continued, taking in the sight of him, his blond locks, that gorgeous half smirk on his face, “I really like older men.” (AO3)

Leon was resting in the hammock, eyes closed behind his shades, drink in hand as he idly swayed. His first vacation in almost two years and Leon couldn’t believe his luck. The room not only had its own private pool but a hot tub as well with views of the ocean. If only he had someone to share it all with, he thought to himself almost bitterly. No, he refused to let his mind go there. He was 100% officially done with all the games and the chase. This was his first vacation as a single man. Leon was going to make the most of it.

When the idea of having amazing sex on vacation first crossed his mind, he shook it off. He was a relationship guy, he reasoned to himself, despite all the very attractive scantily clad women eyeing him at his every turn. It was only his first night. If the opportunity presented itself, Leon wouldn’t say no but the odds of a woman making the first move was slim to none, he reasoned.

That’s when you came along. He was walking past the swim up pool bar when it happened. Like a lion watching its prey, Leon couldn’t take his eyes off of your wet taunt body splashing around as you waited for whatever fruity drink the bartender offered to create just for you. Hey, he couldn’t blame you- endless drinks was the main reason he gave in when Hunnigan offered him this getaway.

Your bikini should’ve been illegal. It was downright sinful. Leon had vaguely heard of a g-string bikini but had never seen one in action. Nothing was covered back there it seemed. If someone had told him that your bikini bottoms were made with colored floss, he’d have believed it. You were gorgeous, full of laughter and soon to be full of the rainbow colored liquor you were sipping on.

Almost frozen in place, Leon felt like a coward. He’d done this song and dance before, for years actually, so he knew how to approach a woman (one very specific woman). The only problem was that he’d only been with one woman. Picking up a stranger at a bar, at a resort and fucking like rabbits- he wasn’t that type of guy but damn you made him want to be.

He was kind of hungry actually, but now Leon had a newfound hunger for something else- you. He felt like a pervert. You couldn’t be more than 23 years old. Young, beautiful, at the prime of your life with no idea he was going to be stroking himself later to this visual. Leon could be a gentleman and ask you to accompany him to dinner. Sure, the food was free too but it was the thought that counted.

The resort had an upscale steakhouse- he could wine and dine you the way he was raised to treat a woman but his cock was starting to get hard the more you jumped around in the pool, your breasts almost threatening to spill out in front of everyone. Leon had to get out of there before he came in his pants.

Yeah, it had been a while since he’d gotten some and apparently he was too much of a coward to just approach you. What if you thought he was a dirty old man?

Leon sipped his watered down whiskey on the rocks and started to walk away before he caught a glimpse of you getting out of the water. You locked eyes with him and the world stood still. From the look on your face you didn’t seem disgusted at his obvious gawking. He even saw you lick your lips and wink at him before grabbing a beach towel and lightly dabbing at your skin, making no real effort to dry off.

“Hey,” he heard your voice call out. Leon looked around to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “Yeah, you over there!” You sauntered over to him seated at his lounge chair. Your smile made it very clear that you were on to him.

His cheeks couldn’t get more red. “Look, I was just staring off into space. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She’s probably going to call security and complain about the gross old man lusting after her, he thought. “I’m Leon, by the way.”

You reached out to shake his hand as you introduced yourself to him. “I’m Y/N. What are you up to later, Leon? I’m here all week.”

All week. He had the chance to see you and possibly be with you and inside you all week.

Leon wanted to say something smooth, a pickup line to really seal in the deal but instead he said “I think I’m too old for you actually. I’m sorry about all this.”

You didn’t seem fazed, almost amused by him even. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable at all, Leon,” you admitted. You leaned down, your breasts almost exposed to him now in your teeny tiny bikini top.

“Actually,” you continued, taking in the sight of him, his blond locks, that gorgeous half smirk on his face, “I really like older men.”

—-----------

After your bold statement, Leon had awkwardly laughed before blurting out “I’d feel less awkward if you’d let me take you to dinner,” fully intending to be a gentleman and make a reservation at the steakhouse. You had agreed and made plans to meetup at his hotel suite. Leon was sitting on the edge of his bed wrapped in a towel not believing his luck. Day 1 of vacation and he was almost guaranteed to get laid.

He’d never been with a younger woman before, never really dated anyone in the true, honest sense.

“Just make it through dinner,” he whispered to himself. “What if she thinks I’m some sugar daddy type,” he thought to himself out loud. He totally would be for you.

The knocking on the door brought Leon out of his thoughts. You were here. You were going to go to dinner together, talk, potentially get along great and let nature take its course so he could feel like less of a cradle robber.

“Y/N, you’re here early,” he remarked, gesturing to the towel wrapped around his waist. “I haven’t gotten dressed yet, is something the matter?”

At first he’d been confused as to why you’d shown up in just the robe included in your room, convinced that you’d changed your mind and was here to tell him off. It was only after you removed your robe that he realized what was happening.

If he thought your bikini was sinful, this dress was the actual sin. It was a sexy red mesh that left nothing to the imagination. And he had imagined you naked and crying his name in the shower just a few minutes before.

“I was thinking we’d skip right to dessert.”

He had you naked and on your back within seconds.

—- “Oh, fuck Leon, fuck me,” you moaned as you put both hands on the back of his head, refusing to let him come up for air as he devoured your pussy.

Leon felt like a virgin all over again. He was amazed at how your body moved, the way you moaned and called out his name without abandon, grinding your pussy into his eager mouth, hands going from gripping the sheets to gripping his hair.

It was almost like his first time- his first one night stand or summer fling. He didn’t know what the future held but right now in this moment, you grinding into his mouth, he swore he could die happy.

You were bossy, demanding and bratty. Your mouth was filthy. He loved it. He couldn’t wait to see you unravel as you came on his tongue. Leon made that his mission, his eyes fixated on your face (what he could see of it from this angle), to make you cum hard screaming and thrashing in his bed.

“Uh huh, eat my fucking pussy, yes just like tha-” Your back arched and instead of licking at your clit, Leon started sucking it as your cum covered his mouth, his chin and jaw. “I’m cumming, Leon,” you brokenly screamed.

He felt you pulling at his hair then trying to push him away but he grabbed your thighs and kept them apart as they quivered near his ears. “Mhmm, that’s right, eat my cum, daddy.

Leon almost came right then and there. He’d never been called ‘Daddy’ before, never thought he’d be into it but he felt powerful hearing it roll off your tongue in your blissed out haze. He couldn’t wait to feel you hot, wet and pulsating around his cock calling him ‘Daddy’ as he made you squirt.

“Daddy, hmm,” he teasingly inquired, finally coming up for air. His cock was achingly hard. Thank God he’d jacked off earlier or he’d have cum the second you started stroking him.

The moment he had the back of your knees on his shoulders, sliding into you inch by inch, memorizing the look on your face as your eyes rolled back into your head- he’d never see anything else in his wet dreams for as long as he lived.

“Harder,” you ordered him, already feeling fucked out and close to cumming. “Fuck me harder, Daddy.”

Your neon pink painted nails dug into Leon’s ass, trying to force him even deeper. You couldn’t get enough of his thick cock stretching you so deliciously. You made a mental note to attempt deep throating him later.

Leon kept pounding into you like his life depended on it. He wanted, no, he needed to make you cum on his dick. To prove to himself mostly that as he was getting up in age that he still had it, that he could move on, still have amazing sex and be attractive to other women after all the bullshit he'd dealt with before.

Okay so maybe he was getting insecure about being in his late 30s, 36 to be exact, but the way you were milking his dick with your tight pussy more than eased his doubts.

“Yes, yes, Leon, make me cum please.”

Your voice brought him back to the reality that he had a very willing, horny and attractive young woman about to squirt in his bed, begging him to fuck her.

“Cum for me, baby, be a good girl for Daddy,” he grunted out before your squeals turned into heavy breathing and panting as your nails scratched up and down his back, his ass and shoulders. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re gorgeous.”

You had brought out the animal in him, satiated his sexual appetite like never before. Now he was back to kissing you all over, your soft lips, your neck and your amazing breasts that he definitely wanted to do a titty fuck with.

“God, I don’t think I can walk after that,” you quipped after he’d cleaned you both up after his cum had started to ooze out of your swollen pussy, a view Leon clearly enjoyed. “I feel like I’m about to pass out,” you said before yawning, snuggling into his embrace.

He was hot, older (a huge plus for you), had a nice cock and made you cum harder than you ever had as evidenced by the wet spot you left behind. You felt beyond lucky.

Leon gave you another kiss, this time slipping his tongue into your mouth letting you taste yourself.

“Mmm, me too,” he admitted. Leon found himself idly stroking your arms as you cuddled into him. It had been too long since he’d had a moment like this and he wanted to savor it. “We can take a shower together afterwards and still make it to dinner later, if you want to, Y/N.”

You gave him a quick peck and pulled the comforter up, the A/C kicking on at just the right time.

“I’d love that, Leon.”

This was going to be a very good vacation, the both of you thought before drifting off to sleep.

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐀𝐇 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑺𝒐 𝒊𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒆𝒔...

╰┈➤ ❝ jeremiah x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : angst, friends with benefits, forbidden love/"we shouldn't be doing this" vibes, hints at friendship betrayal, the pain hits more if you've read main story ch8 and xavier's myth ch5, kissing and making out, mentions of nipple play, mentions of oral (f and m receiving), fingering, clit play, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cumshot, dirty talk, praise, cursing, use of nicknames "pretty" "princess" "milady/my lady", lmk if i missed any tags!

wc : 4.5k

an : LOOK. BEFORE YOU SAY ANYTHING. before you "roxie... what—" me !!!!! writing for him is probably a one-time thing, but listen. he's CUTE!!! and if he's cute, i will write for him...!!!!! (sorry, xavier)

You didn't really know when it started.

After all, what were the odds for you to be strolling around long enough, just to chance across this quaint little flower shop that would eventually became part of your every being?

He'd been arranging some flowers out in the front when you first saw him, light brown, curly hair shining with a gleam under the sunlight. He was humming some kind of tune—it wasn't one you particularly knew, and yet, oddly enough, it was one you found familiar, in ways you couldn't really describe.

In retrospect, the flowers were pretty. Pastel colors blending in with limes and greens, a splash of vibrancy against a largely black exterior. Blues and yellows seemed to be predominant amongst the hues, almost tiny and star-like—a galaxy of flowers, you remember thinking.

And something about it had you easily magnetized.

"Hi!" You'd walked up to him without really thinking; lamely telling yourself in your head, that, hey, maybe your apartment could use some extra decorating...!

(It didn't, but now that you'd approached the florist like this, you felt compelled to at least buy something.)

Jeremiah, however, had been completely spooked by your sudden appearance. One look at you, and his eyes went wide and his humming immediately ceased—you could have sworn a hint of recognition had passed in his eyes, but it was gone before you could truly make out what it was that you saw.

"W-whoah!" he'd laughed, hints of both nervousness and awkwardness glaringly obvious to you—and any busybody that happened to be passing by, for that matter. "Uh!? Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone so, um... Early?"

You could feel it was a feeble excuse.

Sure, it had been your day off, and sure, maybe it was odd for you to be out and about in the morning at all—but it hadn't been that early. You almost wanted to say something about it out loud... but something in you told you to cut him some slack.

Instead, you'd offered a smile.

"No, I'm sorry. Are you not open yet? You have some beautiful flowers, and I couldn't help but want to look at them a little..."

It was amusing to you how easy his expressions were to read. They had changed seamlessly from bewilderment to joy, and he instantly gestured inside. "Oh! We are open! Wow, maybe I'm just really distracted this morning, haha! But hey, thanks, I'm actually pretty proud if them myself. Though I get some help from a friend in taking care of them, I think they're pretty too..."

You'd known from the start that he was quite the talker, but as a smile played on your lips, you thought that you didn't really mind so much, anyway.

He looked cute, and his voice was just as cute.

But the store, you later realized, would take your breath away in an instant.

The inside was just as majestic as the outside. You found that despite the fact that it looked rather small from a distance, its exterior was actually quite misleading. The inside was beautiful—a floor and a loft worth of flowers, and, you could spot all the way in the back, a door that seemed to be leading out into a garden.

And was that... a greenhouse?!

He had probably noticed the awe on your face when you stepped in, and couldn't help but chuckle. "You like?" he grinned, obvious pride twinkling in his eyes.

"Well... yeah! I can't belive I haven't found this place before. Don't you get a lot of customers?"

"Hmm... Sometimes. Depends on the day, really. But as it goes, if you know the place, then you know, right? Welcome to Philo!"

He turned momentarily before offering you a single yellow blossom, its petals unfurling like puffs in your hand.

You eyed it curiously.

"This, is...?"

"It's a zinnia flower. I thought its colour matched your eyes a little, so think of it as something to keep you company while you look around!"

That day, you picked out a lovely bouquet of little blue periwinkles, and learned that his name was Jeremiah.

From then on, you would chance upon him more, and more, and more—taking the occasional detour whenever you were free, or even timing your lunch breaks enough so to at least be able to catch a glimpse. For the flowers, of course, you would tell yourself, because each visit, Jeremiah would give you a single stem. "On the house!" he would say, and you would smile.

The first day you met, he'd given you a yellow zinnia.

The second day you met, he'd given you a sunflower.

The third day you met, he'd given you a white camellia.

And the fourth, and the fifth, and the sixth, and onwards—a single flower, handed over with a dismissive excuse of it going with your hair, or your outfit, or your smile—most often accompanied by a nonchalant remark on how pretty you looked.

Sometimes, after that, you'd talk a little. He would ask you about your day, and you would ask him about his day... You've even learned, by now, the things that he liked. Flowers, a given, but also literature—poetry. Though he remarked that lately he hadn't gotten around to reading anything, he's always been quite fond of them.

You found that these little tidbits made him feel less... mysterious, in a sense, and more real. It went without saying that the more you went over to visit, the longer you'd stay—the longer you'd stay, the louder your heart would beat.

In the end, it wouldn't take long before you realized it yourself, but you were no longer going to Philo for simply... the flowers.

And on one particular night, having made it just in time for closing hours, things had started taking a different turn.

...That night had started off innocent.

Cheerful greetings, cheerful chatter—now, you'd grown accustomed to telling him all about how your day or how your week had gone, and then you would never fail to fluster at the way he'd listen to you so attentively. His eyes, you realized, were almost as bright as the sun—honey-brown like his hair, with specks and glimmers of sapphire when the light hit just right enough. If anything else, you thought that a sunflower suited him better than it did you—the cheerful bounce in his curls, and the way his laugh would tinkle in the air and send butterflies into your stomach without even trying.

Perhaps, down bad was an understatement for you.

But no matter how close you had gotten to this boy, you couldn't help but feel as if there was an unknown barrier between the two of you.

That night, Jeremiah gave you a rose.

Cleaned of its thorns, and as pure and pristine as all the other white flowers he'd housed in his store—he tucked it behind your ear, and his gaze softened in a way that you had never seen before.

The air between you was heavy.

But neither of you would make a definitive move.

"Hey, so how are the flowers all doing?" He broke the silence, but his eyes remained steely on yours.

"I'm... taking care of them like I promised to. I still have that bouquet, and I still have all of the other ones you gave me..."

"Hmm." A smile played at his lips, and then he began to list the recent flowers he'd given to you, for the past couple of weeks of your sporadic visits—

"Let's see. Azalea, petunia, iris, lily... a yellow tulip, some lavender—" He stopped, and amusement shone in his eyes. "Hey, don't tell me you're keeping them all in one vase! And with the others, too? That won't make for a pretty bouquet, you know, the colours will all just clash too much!"

You watched as he laughed, but your eyes only furrowed. "What do you mean? I don't have a greenhouse like you do! Might I remind you that I live in an apartment?!"

"I know, I know! But... You didn't really have to keep them..."

"Why not? They're from you..."

Jeremiah's gaze softened.

And then, again, came that same, pensive silence.

And again, you felt like you were drawn to him.

You couldn't have known why.

Despite whatever butterflies and giddiness he'd often bring upon you, it wasn't as if you'd spent all that much time with him—perhaps, you'd try to visit every week if you could, but that was it, wasn't it? A small chat, a few glances... a flower, and then a wave goodbye—

Yet here you were, like a moth to a flame.

"Penny for your thoughts, milady?" he mumbled out as if to bring you out of your reverie, but it almost seemed to you that he was having the same trepidations.

And that nickname.

He would call you by it often—it fell from his lips almost naturally, and then onto your ears equally as naturally. You've always liked the sound of it, reveling in the way he would treat you so sweetly like this, smiling to yourself at the way his eyes would squint in joy whenever he said it.

But, in this situation....

...Closer.

You chanced it, this feeling, and leaned in.

Jeremiah drew in a shaky breath... but he didn't move.

Instead, his eyes—so telling, his eyes—would move downwards over your face, before settling onto your lips.

"...'Miah," you whispered, and you saw him gulp at the nickname. "Can I kiss you?"

Moths, near a flame, never end well. Surely they don't.

But Jeremiah, despite knowing that, had never been happier to oblige.

That night, was the first night he had kissed you. The first time that both of you had given into the thrumming of temptation always in the air; the first time he had you pressed against his counter, hands roaming fondly over your body, kissing you almost as if his life depended on it.

And from that night forward, things changed substantially.

Weekly visits turned to daily—nightly. Chancing upon closing hours became more planned and deliberate, and then the situation would be the same. Lips crashing upon lips, fingers gripping tightly onto fistfuls of hair, the soft resounding of hushed moans into each others mouths.

You no longer remembered when he started becoming more daring, either. When he started sliding his hands underneath your top, when he started kissing at your neck, fingers rubbing your nipples fondly... You don't remember when you made it into his bedroom, having him trace his hands over your thighs, pushing you apart, fingers slipping into your cunt and sliding through your folds in a way that had you absolutely speechless. Or, neither could you remember how on some nights, he had his head between your legs—licking, and sucking, and eating you out, waves of pleasure coarsing through your veins like never before.

No, at this point, you really didn't remember—how many times your night had been filled with him, how many times you would come all over his mouth—his fingers—

How many times you'd moaned his name.

Perhaps, you thought, it might have been the same for him. Your hands, pumping his cock with fervor, tongue swirling around his tip, drinking up ever last drop of cum he would offer you. You knew, by now, that he loved it when your fingers fell through his hair, stroking fondly at his curled tresses, or digging into his scalp as a testament to your passion.

And yet, you'd never gone further.

Each night, you would see a hint of regret flash in his eyes, and though he would hold you, and kiss you, and do everything to ensure you would sleep soundly right beside him...

The ambiguity of your relationship was clear.

The nights would be for pleasure, but there would be nothing more.

No professions of love, no promises of commitment...

Perhaps, the butterflies you'd always felt around him, had also simmered down to nothing but racing heartbeats in anticipation of his touch.

"Does that feel good, pretty?"

Now, Jeremiah had his fingers in your pussy, drinking up the lust in your eyes, watching the way your mouth would hang open in breathless pants.

"Mhm... 'Miah... 'Miah, you're so good..."

He smiled up at you, thumb grazing over your clit, sighing when your head fell back with another moan.

"Staying quiet really was never your strong suit, huh? I love having you like this. You're so, pretty for me, my lady... So pretty..."

"M-Mia—aahn—"

He leaned up to kiss you, his lips feeling home on yours, your back arching to meet the thrust of his fingers.

"You're adorble," he mumbled, lightly onto your lips when he pulled back. "Really adorable. So adorable, damn, I'm so lucky."

Another moan from your mouth, and you tensed beneath him. "C-close!" you cried, "M'gonna— gonna cum!"

"Mhm? Real close, huh, pretty?"

His finger brushed on the spongy spot in your walls, and your high came crashing immediately.

"'Miah! Oh, fuck—'Miah, 'Miah— Jeremiah—"

You groaned as he rode out your orgasm, his fingers slowly pulling out of you, drenched in your slick, and you trembled beneath him with pleasure.

"'Miah..."

"Aww... Now I'm hard for you again..." He almost whined as he pressed against you, the feeling of his bare cock on your folds making you hiss in pleasure.

"Should I..." you panted, chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. "Do you want me to suck you off again?"

Your offer came out genuinely, and you propped yourself up on your elbows as if to prepare yourself—but he shook his head, guiding you back down. Jeremiah smiled and placed kisses all over your face, rolling over to lay down next of you as if to make a point. "No need, princess. We've done enough for tonight, right?"

You expected this.

Jeremiah never went too far; always keeping your activities to a minimum, always shaking his head when you asked for more. His self control was impeccable—but it was ironic, almost, considering that these activities had already very much become a nightly adventure.

But you pouted.

Instinctively, you reached out a hand for him to hold; "Why do you hold yourself back when you're with me?"

"What do you mean?"

You could at scoffed at the obviously feigned innocence on his face when he turned to look at you.

"This. You won't let this go... further. Like there's—there's something stopping you, or..." You paused, and squeezed his hand "Jeremiah, what... are we? What are we doing?"

It was a question you'd never dared to ask, but one that you had always felt burning in the back of your mind.

He didn't answer immediately.

You probed him further.

"Even when we're like this, it's almost like... You're still so far away from me. I just... I want to understand where this is all coming from, because, 'Miah, I think I—"

"Don't..."

His voice, interrupting you, was twinged with guilt. He shifted closer enough to cradle you into his chest.

"We're just... We're friends, right? Who just... fool around, from time to time..."

The more words fell out of his mouth, the more he seemed to sound... regretful.

You looked up at him with a searching gaze. "Is that why you'll never really go further than this? Because we're... friends."

He nodded, slowly.

But something wasn't sitting right with you.

It was almost as if he knew something; as if he was hiding something so desperately from you that it was taking every ounce of his being not to give in and tell you everything.

"'Miah..."

"...Ah, fuck—please. Not that nickname, not right now..."

You couldn't understand the pain in his voice.

"...Jeremiah, then."

He looked at you, chewing on the inside of his lower lip, and his eyes held a glimmer of something you couldn't quite understand.

"Do you... Want this, Jeremiah? Is it... Is it not enjoyable for you? If— If you don't want to anymore, then we could just—"

"N-no! It is! God, it is! You're so perfect for me, princ—" the nickname caught in his throat, and he gulped. "Y-you... You always feel so good. I more than want it, I love doing this with you—!"

"Then why are you so sad?"

Your words hung in the air, the silence that followed laying thick with a mix of your emotions. It was almost like he took a moment to process the truth of what you'd said, and then he looked away, gaze flitting to the bedsheets, grip tight around your arms.

"'Miah..."

"No, don't... I— Please. Please, I just—I want you so bad. To have you beneath me—to fuck you, to make love to you... You don't even know how much. And even more than that, I... The more we do this, the more I realize that I don’t want to just fool around with you..."

"Then why don't you? Jeremiah... all this time, I—"

"You're not mine."

You paused. His voice came out barely a whisper, and though he refused to look at you, you could make out the tiny glistening of tears in his eyes.

"What... What do you mean?"

"You... You belong to someone else—"

"No, I don't! I don't have any other man in my life, 'Miah, you know this—"

"But you should!"

"...What? What are you saying?"

He finally looked at you, moving you onto your back once more, clear, pure conflict in his eyes, even as he leaned down to nip at your jawline. His hot, warm breaths were against your skin once more. Immediately you felt your hair raise up, all manner of thoughts seeping through your mind in an instant, desire stirring inside of you—

"'M-Miah..." You drew in a sharp breath. "W-wait, you're not— not making any sense, what's going on...?"

"I can't—I'm not—I'm not supposed to be doing this with you..." His voice shook, but he rolled his hips against yours, and you had to let out a gasp. "I'm not, but I... God, you're just so tempting..."

"I don't... U-understa—ah, shit—!"

"Wh- What's your... call..." Jeremiah let out a shaky breath near your ear, his eyes pleading, his cock resting neatly between your folds, the heat of his touch sending your mind into overdrive. "You— Is it okay? Can I put it in? You... Y-you said..."

Oh...

You swallowed thickly, melting under the intensity in his eyes, failing to hold back a whimper at the way he was sliding against you.

"Yes," you breathed, immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I said yes... I still say yes..."

His hips stuttered at your words, and you could see him grit his teeth as he bit back a loud moan. "O- once. Just once. Once, and I'll pull out, I promise... Just once, let me be inside you..."

Despite the fact that you had already given him consent, he seemed almost as if he was reassuring himself more than you. It didn't sit right with you—something was wrong, and you knew it. Jeremiah wasn't drunk, to have been possibly saying this while not in his right mind, but, this... this was...

What was holding him back?

You, being in such a situation where you understood nothing, didn't know what to do.

Should you stop him...?

Something in your mind was screaming at you to tell him to calm down; what if he didn't truly want this?

But his cock was rubbing so nicely into your clit. You could feel the pool of arousal gather within seconds of him rutting against you, and how—how could you think?

If this were up to you, you've wanted this for so long.

And he was asking you...

He was asking you if he could finally put it inside of you...

You shuddered at the thought, your walls clenching around nothing.

Fuck.

"You can take me, 'Miah," you whispered, breath shaking. You steeled yourself to keep from bucking your hips upwards. "But you have to promise me... Promise me, promise me, that you won't end up regretting it..."

Something flashed in his eyes.

Uncertainty, perhaps—

Jeremiah let out ragged pants, but for a moment, he didn't speak.

Ah...

You moved your hand slowly, trailing his skin before resting to cup his cheek.

"...Do you truly want this, Jeremiah?"

"Yes," he breathed. "Fuck, yes..."

"Okay. I want this, but I'm not forcing you. You have my consent, but I... I want yours."

He sighed, and leaned into your touch, something like a hopeless resignation now made clear in his eyes. He was like a deer in the headlights, almost—so embrolled in whatever internal conflict was at the forefront of his mind, that you almost pitied him. With a pout, you kissed him, slowly, softly, and he lay his forehead to meet yours.

"What if," he whispered, "there was... someone out there, who's loved you all this time?"

"...'Miah?"

"What if... What if I'm stealing you from him? What if it was never supposed to be this way? I just... I feel like... You were never supposed to be mine to hold..."

It wasn't something you could understand at a surface level. You knew that there was more to it—things he couldn't say out loud, and things he couldn't make you understand no matter how hard he tried to.

So you sighed.

"Well, 'Miah, I haven't met him, whoever he is."

"But you hav—"

"The point is that I'm here, now, with you. And, if... If, it makes you feel better, then..." You swallowed your pride, swallowed all the feelings you might have grown for him through your time together, swallowed all hope that you could ever have a normal relationship with him. "We're just... friends, right? Fooling around, like you said. Just... like we've always been doing."

Your heart buzzed, numb, almost.

The look in his eyes told you he didn't believe you; almost as if he'd known, all this time, that you've fallen in love with him, very likely just as he had with you—

But you didn't pay it any mind.

If nothing else, you didn't want to lose what you had now.

It was okay, like this.

You could live with it.

Maybe.

All things considered, your words seemed to bring him to relax just a little bit, and he nuzzled your nose, the fondness in his eyes resurfacing and drowning out any remaining traces of guilt. "Okay," he nodded, "you're right. Of course. We're just... fooling around. Friends, just... fooling around."

It was a false sense of security.

Somehow, the both of you knew it deep in your hearts that you were lying to yourselves.

But it didn't matter, right?

Not when the first push of his tip through your walls had you gasping your air, not when the feel of his length moving right into your cunt felt so perfect—so right. And along with you, Jeremiah let out quiet whimpers, sinking into you slowly, slipping in inch by inch, allowing the both of you to savor this very feeling.

"Holy shit," he cursed, breathless, gritting his teeth as he looked at you almost pleadingly—"How can you feel so good?"

By now he'd bottomed out and your bodies were flush against each other, feeling the echoing of your heartbeats in sync, heavy pants filling the equally weighty silence that followed. Leaning forward slightly, he moved to rest both of your legs on his shoulders, and you couldn't help but moan at the way the slight adjustment had him shifting deeper within you.

"'M-Miah—"

"Fuck, can I... Can I move?" He placed a chaste kiss on the skin of your calf, before letting his hands fall down to your waist, his grip firm yet gentle, his eyes still searching yours almost expectantly.

"Please..."

You could have melted at the way he smiled at you.

And then Jeremiah wasted no time in pulling out, before slowly easing back in. The way your name fell from his lips in a drawn-out moan had you tingling, and you held him tight against you, eyes closing at the way he stretched you out.

He felt so... warm. So safe.

Each of his thrusts were thoughtful, intentional; slow, but long and deep.

Filling.

"S'good, Miah..." you whispered, latching your hands onto his soft curls. "You fit so well..."

"I know... haah... I can't believe we're—I think I'll ruin you for him—"

You didn't dare dwell on his words and only clenched around him at a particularly deep thrust, having the both of you moan in synchrony.

"Fuck! My lady, please— g-go easy on me...!"

"Y-you're the one w-who's so deep—ah—!"

You pulled at his hair, feeling the way the sensitive head of his cock would delightfully brush against your most delicate spot. Your eyes clouded with want, raking your nails over his scalp, shuddering at the way he would moan and moan, on and on about the pleasure of your heat.

"Mhm... so good, 'Miah, s'perfect..." You moaned in tandem with him, whispering praises, matching his thrusts with every movement of your hips. It was too much, almost, even though all he was doing was thrusting into you, doe-like, unfocused eyes transfixed upon your face.

If you weren't lying to yourself, you were inclined to think that he, too, mirrored your exact thoughts.

"Princess... Fuck, my princess..."

Ah. That nickname.

The way his cock would twitch inside you at the mere sound of this nickname from his lips had you gasping, and you wondered, truly, why it had him so worked up. This wasn't the first time you'd seen him so attached to it—but you adored it; you reveled in the way he would use it on you.

"S-say it again," you breathed, heart racing at the wet sounds of your pussy with each of his thrusts, every roll of his hips pushing him so deep inside of you, gliding against that spongy spot. You could barely hold back your moans anymore, words turning into broken, unintelligible whimpers.

"You..." Jeremiah closed his eyes, gritting his teeth, and you felt lightheaded at the image of it in front of you. "Y-you... You like it? When I call you princess?"

Another whine escaped from your lips, and you continue to coax him, pleading him, praising him—anything to get him to bring you closer to your high.

And he listened.

"Fuck, princess— princess, princess, princess— my princess, my pretty, pretty princess—"

Your eyes rolled back as he picked up his pace, precise with his thrusts as the bed rocked steadily beneath you. Cries and moans spilled from your lips, your hands falling to twist into his sheets.

Perfect.

He was perfect.

You'd barely started grinding your hips upwards to meet his thrusts, and then your body was tensing with pleasure

"'M-Miah!" Your fingers raked down to his back, gripping tightly when he hissed into your ear. "M'cumming, 'Miah! M'gonn— I'll—!"

He thrust hard and deep inside of your cunt, and you trembled, crying out his name, mouth falling open—

Jeremiah buried his face into your neck as he pulled out of you, spilling his load all over your chest, broken chants of your name.

"I—fuck—shit—" He whined into your skin, barely lifting himself enough to relax your positions, crawling back over to give you the sweetest of kisses.

"Jeremiah..." You stroked his cheek once more, gently, lost in the way that his eyes would look at you with so much adoration that your heart could beat right out of your chest.

"I..." he started, a pout forming at his lips. "I'm sorry, my lady..."

He didn't explain why, but he didn't need to.

You could see it in his eyes.

His eyes, his ever expressive eyes, holding so much warmth and so much love—

He loved you.

Even though you had dared to reach this illusion of mutual agreement, even if you'd promised yourselves only just a short while ago that this wouldn't happen.

That it couldn't happen.

And you closed your eyes.

"I know," you whispered.

I love you, too.

Your words would remain unsaid.

⁺₊ / an: flower language is cute and the flowers mentioned here represent things like compliments/love/growing attraction! the zinnia symbolises welcoming back a missing friend! because jeremiah would totally flirt via flowers... haha... florist, right....... did i just make myself more attached to him? 4.5k wordcount says yes!!

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[starlightguh]

An Artist Always Signs His Work

Word Count: 1,879

Tags: inappropriate uses of paint, Oral f!receiving

AN: 18+ Smut !MDNI¡ I started working on this before the Rafayel banner announcement and wanted to finish and post this before the new card dropped! I’ve truthfully not been the biggest Rafayel girly but lately he’s shown up in some spicy dreams of mine so I hope this does him justice 💕

I was taking my time doing my hair for a little outing with Tara that I had planned, when my phone started buzzing. I pause my hair routine and see Rafayel’s picture with his contact name: My Sushi <3 light up my screen.

I answer with a cutesy ‘Hellooo’ and am met with a disgruntled groan from the other end.

“I can’t do it! I won’t do it! I simply cannot draw anymore no matter how much Thomas threatens me!”

“Woah, slow down what happened?” I stifle a laugh at his dramatics.

“They expect me to have a new painting for that gallery by the end of this week and I just can’t! No matter how much I’ve painted nothing is giving that inspiration I need….You have to come help,” his voice sobbed on the other line.

“Rafayel I can’t, I have other engagements today I can’t just drop everything to help you with your art,” I sigh at his drama.

“Oh so you hate me. I get it. Well I see how much you care about me and my dying wishes, so I’m hanging up now,” his voice was full of sass as he then hung up on me.

I let out a long exasperated groan and gave Tara a phone call, “hey girl I might have to rain check on our tea date.”

“Oh that’s funny you called first! I actually ran into Dr.Greyson and am kinda caught up with him right now…We’ll definitely touch base and reschedule when I see you at work! Bye girly!”

Well that was easy. I continue to finish getting ready to go see my dying artist…

~~~~~~~~~

Im buzzed into Mo art studio with no problem. I didn’t bother calling Rafayel back since I knew where he would be whether I showed up or not.

“Knock, knock,” I call out as I open the doors to his studio space.

“Studio’s closed, I'm busy passing away…” Rafayel, whose clothes were covered in various paint colors, was laying on the floor with his arm covering his eyes.

“But I came to revive you.”

He lifts his arm away from his face and he lets in a sharp little gasp as he takes in my appearance.

I was a bit dressier than usual in my shiny short white dress and my hair and makeup done. I smiled down at his stunned expression as the pupils of his eyes darken.

“I think I’ve found my inspiration,” he says with a bit of a confident smirk.

He slowly lifts up his torso and smiles up at me before holding out his index fingers and thumbs to create a frame of me in his vision.

“Oh so that’s why you wanted me to come here, you needed a muse?”

He stands up and his taller height makes me lean my head back a bit to glance into his deep sea blueish eyes. Rafayel placed his hand under my chin and moved my face from side to side, appraising my facial features.

“Not necessarily, but your beauty has striked my inspiration. Come here while I paint,” he takes my hand and drags me to the center of his studio.

He has me sit on top of a stool in front of the background of his flowing white curtains as he sets up a canva and easel in front of me.

I sit a bit awkwardly, unsure of what to do with myself. So I kick my feet a bit as Rafayel is pouring the paints he wants to use on his wooden pallet.

His eyes are scanning the scene before him as a mischievous smirk crosses his face, “I think the subject needs more color.”

I look down at my white dress and frown, “Well I didn’t exactly bring anything else.”

He wordlessly strides over to me, and with a paint brush he slashes a stroke of blue paint on my bare arm.

“Hey! Rafayel! What are you doing?!” I shout as he laughs while splashing my skin with more paint.

“I'm just painting on my lovely canvas,” he smirks and then dips his hand in some of the paint on the pallet.

He places his forehead against mine while letting out a shaky breath as his paint covered hand slowly and sensually caresses down my bust to my waist. As his hand is the paint brush that has now ruined my dress, he stops at my waist and grips it.

“Raf,” I whisper as I glance at his plush lips. His eyes were now dark and intimate as he no longer stared at me like his muse, but rather his meal.

He lets out a huff and leans his head down to place a soft kiss at my pulse point in my neck. The only sounds I could hear was the smacking of his lip’s against my skin and the shakiness of my own breath.

I felt his nose drag up against my neck as he then brought his lips to my ear to whisper to me, “You know, when I paint, I prefer to paint subjects in their most natural state…”

He purred in my ear and pulled away a bit as he dipped his hand in his pallet and proceeded to set it down as he covered both hands in colors.

“Rafayel,” I said in a warning tone as he now has both of his hands on my body and ruined my dress with shades of blues and purples. “You owe me a new dress.”

He looks down at the paint covering my arms and seeing his hand prints on the dress he hums and nods, “You’re right….Let’s get this canvas to her natural state then.”

Before I could process what he meant by that, he had unzipped my dress and removed it off my body. I let out a yelp as the cold air touched my now exposed skin.

“This too,” he grumbled and popped my bra off immediately.

As I sat on this stool naked in nothing but my panties with wet paint covering my arms, I looked at him annoyed as my face with hot with embarrassment, “Shouldn’t you stop fooling around and actually work on your painting?” My eyes glance to the now abandoned easel he had set up.

His hands were all over my skin, his soft fingertips gently tracing paths around my breasts and sternum, leaving color in its wake. “But I am working on my painting dearest, it’s already beautiful,” he says in a whisper before leaning down to capture one of my plump mounds in his mouth.

I wrap my legs around him and let out whimpers as his tongue swirls around my sensitive bud. His face is now getting paint on it from the trails his fingers left behind earlier.

As he pulls away from my breast with a smack he stares up at me as he goes to give the other one attention. My face contorts as the feeling of his lips breaks my composure. His deep eyes are drinking in my expression as his mouth works on me and I close my eyes and turn my head away to hide from his intense gaze.

Rafayel pulls away and moves my head to face him, leaving more stains of paint as he does, “Look at me.” His voice sounds deeper than his usual teasing tone and is full of command.

I open my eyes and as I do he leans in and kisses me with a fierce intensity. His hands cup my jaw and I wrap my arms around him as his tongue parts my lips and dances in my mouth.

I drag my fingers into his purple hair as he groans into my mouth. When he pulls away I’m panting as our lips are still connected by a strand of saliva. He licks his lips with a smirk and he bites his bottom lip as he takes in my panting and flushed form.

“This is almost the vision I have,” he says as he crouches down to get more paint on his hand. He slides his hands that are wet with fresh colors up my legs as he parts them to have me sit in a straddle pose on the stool. “Beautiful.”

His hands grip my thighs as he stares at the small wet patch that’s dampened my teal cotton panties. Rafayel, like a man possessed, slides his hands underneath both sides of my underwear to slide them off me. My legs follow his path as the cotton is now cast aside and his hands are holding my painted thighs apart to expose my wet center to his vision.

“Now that I’ve painted my canvas, it’s only right that I sign my work,” his voice rumbles as he gets closer and closer to my center and he gives a lick on my slit.

“Raf-“ I pant and go to grab the back of his head, but he stops my movement with a grip on my wrist, “Don’t move or you’ll ruin the portrait.”

He lets my wrist go and dives into my center, drinking in my dripping essence with his thirsty lips. I can’t help but grip the sides of the stool and lean my head back with a moan.

The contrast of his hot mouth on me in comparison to my cold body covered in wet paint made my mind melt. I was drowning in pleasure as I could hear the lewd squelching and smacking of his mouth on my dripping pussy.

I could feel more than hear him growl as I placed my legs on his shoulders and my toes dug into the fabric of his white shirt.

“Gods Rafayel…I’m gonna,” I squeal as I close my eyes and feel his tongue on my clit.

As I focus on my breathing I can feel his tongue make what feels like the shape of an R on my slit, followed by an A then F….

I could feel my lower body tighten and heat up as I was close, “Rafayel please I’m-I…” I sputtered out as he made it to Y in his name.

He pulled away for a moment and his voice was filled with lust, “Come. Let go for me.”

When he went back to my clit and quickly finished spelling his name he then slid his tongue inside my needy hole and I instantly came undone on his mouth with a high pitched moan.

As I was breathing heavily from my orgasm, Rafayel pulled away with half of his face dripping in my juices. He smiled and licked his lips, “Perfect stay like that.”

He stood and rushed over to the actual canvas and quickly began trying to immortalize my pleasure in a painting on his canvas.

Needless to say he had to repose his muse with a few more orgasms to ‘get my expression just right.’

The finished product was me covered in paints of blues and purples and completely fucked out of my mind, while his actual portrait depicted a naked woman being swallowed up by the sea. I was too embarrassed to acknowledge that her pleasured face was what Rafayel saw as he expertly pulled out of me over and over again that day.

~fin~

[midsommarbearsuit]

💖Alphabet Boy-a Ford Pines x Reader Fic (18+)!💖

Hi! Still here still writing about old men lol. I wanted to write a fic in which the reader takes Ford's virginity and low key tops him. Small warning for breeding talk and VERY SLIGHT dubcon. Also shoutout to @cosmicdahlias they're eating it up lately with their fics.

THIS FIC IS 18+! NO MINORS!

Ok, enjoy!💘

You had been dating Ford for a little while, but not long enough to know everything about the man. In a lot of ways he was a mystery. You could tell his time spent in other dimensions had hardened him, and you were intimidated by the walls he built up. Even toward you, the one he loved, he could sometimes be cold, official, and distant, especially if he was working in his lab. He was an unknowable mountain of a man, tall and commanding and strange. However, this aspect of his personality only made you more intrigued and, frankly, turned on. You fantasized about having this man more than twice your age crumble beneath you in the best way possible. The only missing piece was how to make it happen.

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

The set you chose was lacy and pink, your outfit a tad more revealing than usual. You were determined to put your plan into action, no matter how much Ford demurred. The two of you hadn’t had sex yet, but you stayed up nearly every night touching yourself to the thought of it. You knew today would be the day. 

Ford sat at his desk, head bent and posture terrible. He was scribbling away in a new journal, pausing every now and then to rub his chin and stare off into the distance with unfocused eyes. You took special care making his coffee just the way he liked it, even adding a small splash of whiskey. You punched the code into the vending machine and made your way down into Ford’s lab, the cold air covering your exposed legs in goosebumps. You set the coffee down on his desk. He simply grunted in response, reaching for it without looking up. 

“Aren’t you gonna say thank you?” you asked playfully. 

“Thank you, dear heart,” he responded, using his favorite nickname for you. You simply stood there, waiting for him to look up. But no such luck. You knew you’d have to take initiative, unsurprisingly. You reached for Ford’s shoulders and began rubbing them soothingly. He moaned, rolling his neck a bit before going back to writing. 

“You should take a break,” you suggested, leaning forward so your breasts pressed gently against his back. 

“Can’t,” he grunted. “Sorry. I have a good train of thought going here.”

You sighed internally, frustration causing a lump to form in your throat. 

“Please sweetheart, I need to talk to you,” you said.

Ford simply didn’t respond.

Finally, your frustration got the better of you, rising up and coloring your face. You reached forward and swiped the coffee mug off the desk. 

Ford gasped, yanking his journal away from the spill. “Y/n!”

“I’ll clean it up,” you grumbled. And just like that, a golden opportunity presented itself. You grabbed an oil soaked rag from the desk before dropping to your knees in front of Ford, your back to him. You sank to your hands and knees, arching your back so your ass was on display. You felt the cold air through the thin fabric of your panties, your skirt riding up.

When you were done cleaning, you rose to your feet again and spun to face him. His jaw was slack, his eyes heavily lidded. He turned back to his journal, clearing his throat. You threw the soiled rag to the floor and put a hand on Ford’s shoulder, pushing him gently so he sat back, his legs slightly open. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, still seemingly clueless. The frustration you felt pooling in your core was steadily transforming into something else, something very familiar to you. You leaned forward and brought Ford into a kiss, intense and passionate. He made a choked noise, his hands stiff at his sides. You climbed onto his lap. You felt his erection rub against you.

“Did you like that view, sweetheart?” you whispered in his ear. “I knew you would…I wore these panties special for you.”

Ford stuttered your name, clearly overwhelmed. You dipped down and sloppily kissed his neck, feeling his skin rise with goosebumps. You ground yourself against his clothed length, getting wetter by the second. 

“Oh…” he moaned, his hips bucking up. You felt heat radiating off of him.

“You can tell me to stop,” you said quietly, reaching down and palming his erection. The noises that came out of him were far from the reserved, intelligent words he typically uttered. He sounded like a kitten, mewling into your neck. 

“Please I…I need to tell you something,” he begged. You stopped, looking into his deep brown eyes. 

“Y/n, I’m a virgin.” Your heart plummeted into your stomach “What?” You couldn’t believe this sixty-something year old man had never had sex before. 

Ford looked incredibly embarrassed, glancing to the side. You had never seen him so shy. “You heard me, dear heart. I’ve never ah…known a woman. Or anyone, for that matter.”

“I’ll be your first?” you said, voice hushed in awe. You couldn’t believe this incredible opportunity in front of you. 

He nodded.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “Oh, in that case…” you said, returning to kissing his neck between words. “I say we move this to your bedroom. What do you think?”

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

Ford laid back on the bed, staring at you with huge eyes. 

“Do you want me to strip for you?” you asked. Pure power flowed through your veins in place of blood. You had never felt something so empowering in your life. This man, with his multiple degrees and his high IQ and all his life experience, was powerless against the raw, intimidating sexuality of your young body. You knew if he touched your skin, it would burn his hand. 

He nodded. “Please…strip for me.”

You grinned, taking your time removing your low cut shirt. Next came your miniskirt. You wiggled your hips as it fell down your legs. Ford sucked in a breath, his eyes roaming your body.

“Good Lord,” he muttered to himself, his hands gripping the bed sheets. You watched as his erection surged in his pants. You sauntered over to him, slowly climbing on top of him, keeping your bra and panties on. 

Ford wasn’t a small man. In fact, he practically dwarfed you. You straddled his hips, your small hands reaching forward to pin his large wrists to the bed. “Please tell me if you get uncomfortable, sweetheart,” you cooed before licking a line up his neck. You felt him shudder.

“You have to understand, I was never popular,” he was blabbering now as you kissed down his neck, his chest. “No one wanted me in high school, o-or in college…and then I fell into my research and it simply never came to pass…”

You nodded, your hand traveling from his wrist to his belt buckle. You deftly undid it, inching his pants down. You kissed down his happy trail before taking his cock in your hands. 

“Have you ever felt someone’s mouth before?” you asked sweetly, gazing up at him. He shook his head, his chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“You’ll enjoy this,” you grinned before taking him in your mouth. He was well endowed, and you could only take a couple inches before you started to gag. Ford immediately started bucking his hips so his tip pressed the back of your throat. His moans were high and sweet as he desperately yanked at your hair. You could tell he was immediately overstimulated, and you were hit with another intoxicating wave of that powerful feeling. You could easily become addicted to it. 

“Oh God y/n…” he groaned. “Slow down, darling…I don’t want to finish too soon…”

You did as he asked, giving his tip little kitten licks as you stared up at him to gauge his reactions. His entire face was bright red, splotches of it spreading down his neck and chest. His eyes were shut tight, and his six fingered hand remained buried in your hair. 

“No one’s ever made me feel this way,” he said. “Thank you…”

You removed your mouth from him with a pop. “There’s no need to thank me, Ford. It feels good for me too.”

You made your way back up, taking him into another kiss. You pulled your panties down and teased your entrance with his cock. His hands flew to your hips and he held on for dear life. 

“You’re not even inside me yet, Sixer,” you laughed. You took in the sight of him underneath you. Hair tousled, his arousal written all over his face, his pupils blown. He was normally so reserved, but he couldn’t hide now.

You sat up and began lowering yourself onto him in earnest, making sure to go slow. 

“Ask for it, darling,” you said, deciding to have some fun. “What do you want?”

“I-I…I want your…” Ford swallowed hard, visibly shy once again. “Oh, don’t make me say it…”

You moved up to straddle his stomach, crossing your arms. He whined, thrusting up so his cock rutted against the curve of your ass. 

“Cmon, smart guy. Normally you’re so good with words.”

“Your pussy,” he finally managed, practically pleading now. “Please, dear heart, I want to feel your pussy.” You grinned wickedly and moved downward once again, giving him what he asked for.

“My God,” he said, voice soaked in awe. You could tell he was having a religious experience as he gazed up at you with soft eyes. “Feels…oh, it feels…”

“How does it feel, Ford?” you asked, beginning to bounce up and down on him.

“Fucking incredible,” he finished. With that, you decided to  put on a show for him. You took your hair down, shaking it out and gyrating your hips. You unclipped your bra and pinched your nipples, licking your lips. He stared at you like you were his own personal porn.

“However did I get so lucky,” he moaned. “Such a beautiful creature…you know I’m going to draw this later.” This last part he said with some of his signature dryness, then he went right back to a whimpering mess as you clenched yourself around him. He was big enough to hit all the right spots, but you didn’t want to completely unravel. You were enjoying this control way too much.

“Such a dirty old man,” you said, even shocking yourself with your words. “Fucking someone so young…”

“I know,” he groaned. “It’s revolting, isn’t it?”

You nodded, the grin never leaving your face. You felt Ford swell inside you and could tell from the look on his face that he was close.

“Y/n…I’m going to-”

“I can feel it,” you said, bouncing harder and faster, milking his orgasm out of him. “Cum inside me, Stanford…maybe you’ll even get me pregnant…”

His eyes widened even more at that, and he shook his head. But even as his head shook, you felt him come undone inside you. He shouted your name, shutting his eyes and thrusting through it. “Ah…thank you,” he panted. “I couldn’t ask for better…”

You smiled down at him. “I’m not done with you.”

There was something like fear in his eyes and you continued to ride him. 

“I haven’t cum yet. You do want me to cum, don’t you?” you asked sweetly, biting your lip.

“You’re cruel,” he whimpered. “Please dear heart, I can’t take any more…” His moans were taking on a wild tinge, more and more of the walls he put up falling down around him as you reduced him to a trembling puddle of a man.

“I-I can’t…ahh yes…I mean no! Please, enough…”

You felt your orgasm coming. “It’s almost over, sweetheart…almost done…”

When you came around him he grabbed onto your hips hard enough to bruise, his voice going higher than you’d ever heard it before. After a moment that felt like an eternity, you removed yourself from him, feeling his cum dribbling down your thighs.

“I love you,” Ford said, his voice deepening once again. “That felt better than I could have possibly imagined. 

“I love you too,” you cooed, climbing into bed next to him and cuddling up to his solid form. In mere moments, you had both fallen into a content sleep.

[vampirehoon]

⋆｡𖦹 °.⋆❀˖°

sunghoon had been hanging with his members at the shore, screaming and splashing like kids. all this running from each other made sunghoon out of breath. sunghoon dragged his feet across the warm sand up to where you where. settling into the beach chair he set up earlier beside you, he caught his breath with sweat dripping down his cheek.

the seagals cried over head and the rest of the boys laughter mixed with the sound of the waves made it feel like summer had officially begun today. unfortunately, the heat is brutal this early afternoon so you chose to hide underneath your umbrella and it would be nice for sunghoon to have some shade to.

you called sunghoon’s name as you sat up, raising your sunglasses to rest on your head. you thought you should put them to rest after on the ride here niki insisted you looked like a mother but sunghoon was quickly to put down his claim and say you looked pulled them off well.

sunghoon opened his eyes and rose as well, his body facing your direction.

“sit over here, and drink this.” you invite him to come over and sit beside you under the umbrella as you open a water bottle you had in your bag. - maybe you are channeling your mom side.

sunghoon complies, watching your hands as you unscrew the top and when handing him the bottle. he kisses your cheek as a thank you as his throat was too dry to speak at that moment. instinctively, yours and sunghoon’s hands met and interlocked. no words of permission needs to shared to simply want to hold hands.

he sighed deeply after drinking the water and wiped his sweat over his forehead. you dapped his forehead with a towel as he asked if you’d want to join the fun. you stopped patting him with the towel and looked into his eyes.

you could tell he wanted to have fun with you. part of you wanted to but at the same time you wanted to rest in the chair for a minute longer.

“yeah, i can but you go first,” “i wanna put up my hair.”

sunghoon lips curl as he chuckles, nodding.

“do you want me to help you?” but takes that as a no when you shake your head.

“alright.” he stands up and looks over at the boys. jungwon has sunoo in his grasp as a shield from jay, nearby heeseung and jake are drawing in the sand - only for niki to walk over both of their crooked hearts. he figured he could charge someone into the water for fun.

sunghoon laughs, choosing to take jay into the water but is stopped before he could take a step. you look up at him with a small smile.

“not so fast.” he sits down, wondering what’s making you want to stop him.

you look at him and really look at him. the sunlight is glowing the sand and hitting him at a perfect color, you would love to take a photo right now. he is breathtaking and he knows your admiring him when you’re hand moves to his cup his face.

“do you know how lucky i am to have you as my boyfriend?” you say, squishing his cheeks with your thumbs. he’s cuter by the second.

this boy felt his heart race, you’re one to talk. he is so lucky to have you as his girlfriend as he never thought he could have dated you in the first place. sunghoon’s always been an introvert and a enjoyer of peace and quiet but when you happily yapped your heart about your favorite book in the library (where you spoke a bit louder than you were supposed to), you left him wanting someone who loved to talk and not be afraid to express themselves. he knew he’d have to tell you how he felt and it worked out perfectly, you fell for him the minute he expressed his love for fall during a passing period.

“that may be true but in no way are you more lucky than me. i’m the luckiest person on earth to have you as my girlfriend.”

you can’t help but meet those rude lips of his that say those sweet things to you. he meets you with the same longing feeling. this moment was right.. for a moment.

water and sand being thrown was not what you’d expect to interrupt your kiss. the two of you look over and attempt to dodge the water, the boys are throwing sand and water in protest against the pda.

“pda not allowed on the beach.” is the last thing niki said before sunghoon shouts with his fangs shining in a grin.

“not at my girlfriend, you punks!” sunghoon stands up, guarding you and then charging them all. screams fill the summer air once again and you root for your boyfriend - yelling “you get them cutie!” and him adorably responding back “don’t worry baby!”

you’re not going home until you throw enough sand at niki. you secure your hair into a ponytail and run over, the cold water made you scream and sunghoon found your waist to raise you and take your further in. the laughter and smiles didn’t go away and it hurt your cheekbones and your stomach.

𓉸ྀི ©vampirehoon

[biteofcherry]

What story you would write for him - randomagnes0210.tumblr.com/701345413474729984/chris-you-inspired-me-and-i-didnt-know-i 👀

Holy fuuuck 😳🥵🥵

I'm sorry, my brain kinda short circuited. I need time to get it back to function. Damn. Wow. Okay.

that's a soft!dark Steve Rogers

An enforcer/mercenary Steve (maybe for mafia Bucky? idk), who can make things really bloody and still keep his slate clean of any evidence. From organizing a disposable group to do the dirty work, to a stealthy kill done by himself if needed.

He has a sleek beast of a bike, as well a bullet-fast camaro. There's always a weapon on him, even when he looks like he's there to chill only.

You don't see a gun? No glint of a knife? There's a garrote in the wristwatch, or in the beads he wears on his wrist. Not to mention the things he can do with his hands alone.

It's those hands that got you staring when you approached him with your little nephew at your side. The boy, being all moto crazy, couldn't stop tugging at your hand when he saw the Camaro. So you did what any good aunt would - you took his small hand in yours and approached a stranger, asking sweetly if he won't mind your nephew taking a closer look at the car.

Steve's eyes when they settled on you were cold and sharp like a blade. Almost made you take a step back. Then he glanced at the kid, who was staring at his car with pure awe, and back at you, his gaze softening.

"Sure thing, cherry."

His voice had a rich, raspy timbre, reminding you of how your own voice gets after a few good orgasms (which you gave yourself with the use of your toys, since your latest dates lacked in that area).

Steve's eyes shifted to your chest when he said that, a smirk curling the left corner of his mouth upwards. Your top had printed cherries on it. You found it cute when you bought it. Now you felt embarrassed wearing something so sweet it was almost childish.

You dropped your gaze, muttering a thank you.

You let out a breath of relief when Steve's eyes finally turned away from you. He bent over the hood again and your own gaze slid from his tight ass (you scolded yourself inwardly for even daring to look that way!) over the wide plain of his back to his hands.

Those damn hands that would be your undoing, you thought as you stared at them. Nimble and skilled fingers tinkering with something, a vine of dark ink starting atop his palm and curling upwards over the corded muscles of his forearms, to disappear in an array of color beneath the rolled up sleeves of his shirt.

You saw splashes of tattoos on his chest and reaching up to his neck. Your mind wandered through images of exploring hos the pattern looks over his back, his it moves over his ribs when he breathes.

If there are tattoos leading down his abdomen...

You were so lost in it, you didn't hear what Steve was saying, until you felt your nephew tug on your hand.

"Can we? Can we, please?!" The kid looked up at you with hopeful eyes.

"Um." You swallowed, uncertain of what exactly was asked of you. Feeling all the more embarrassed for it.

"Of course you can, buddy." Steve decided, not waiting for your brain to catch up with his proposition to take you both for a short ride in his car.

His smile was bright and charming, yet held a hint of predatory satisfaction. A cocky confidence you usually hated in men.

Steve's eyes held a mirthful glint as he caught your gaze, but also something dark that quickened your pulse.

"I'm sure your aunt craves a good ride, too."

You had to clench your thighs at the surge of heat that filled your belly and spread down, pooling in a small wet spot on your panties.

You should've said no. Your body may heat up for this tattooed, hot as sin stranger, but your instinct all but yelled at you to run away. There was something dangerous about him, in more than just sexy way.

But it's something you would find out much later.

Too late to run away from his possession, or to stop wanting him so badly.

If you only knew how lethal he was, you wouldn't say yes to getting a lift to your place after you dropped off your nephew at his parents.

You wouldn't follow Steve's raspy command and let him fuck you in the narrow space of his camaro - bruises from the steering wheel faint compared to the marks Steve's hands left on your thighs and around your neck.

If you suspected the dark web awaiting you, maybe you wouldn't like how he called you sweet cherry.

Maybe you wouldn't cream on his cock as he fucked you right outside of your apartment, in a dark corridor where any of your neighbors could walk, with his hand pressed over your mouth to muffle your screaming orgasm and hips snapping hard into you.

You wouldn't whisper a weak Yes, Steve when he told you where to meet him, scribbling down the address on a piece of paper and slipping it under the waistband of your ruined panties.

But you said yes to all of those things. You allowed Steve to do those dirty things to you. And you wanted more. Even if your instinct still alarmed of danger.

[hunny-bean]

Sugar & Spice

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank likes you best in blue. Happy Anniversary!

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit Sexual Content, Oral Sex (M & F Recieving), Fingering, Unprotected P in V, Obnoxiously Fluffy at Times, Lingerie, Teasing, Light Bondage, Kinda Mean Frank, Sub Reader. Ok, I think that's it! Let me know if I missed one.

A/N: Needless to say, I'm expanding my comfort zone. I added a splash of mechanic!frank because he's a guilty pleasure of mine. Sorry if he's a little OOC, it's hard to imagine Frank untraumatized and in a happy relationship. Anyway, I hope this turned out alright. Enjoy! Let me know what you think! XOXO.

P.S. I'm open to requests, if you've got any cool ideas! I love writing, but I have experienced writer's block many times before, so I may need a little assistance at some point. I'll write for any Jon Bernthal character as well as a plethora of others that I don't have time to list. If you want to ask for another character, just take a gamble and I'll let you know if I can do it! Also, nothing immoral or illegal, please. Sorry for the insanely long author's note.

You may proceed :)

Read on AO3

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

'Curse this stupid lighting,' you thought, examining your makeup in the floor-length mirror. The dim yellow light bulb in Frank's walk-in closet was seriously throwing off your perception of colors. For example, you were pretty sure your blush was looking natural and sweet, but there was always that slim chance you would look like a clown in a different room.

You were tragically forced into the closet by the sound of Frank's keys rattling in the lock. Before that, you had been enjoying the luxury of a bathroom counter. Unfortunately, Frank only had one toilet and you figured he might need it, so you grabbed your bag and sprinted to the closet the second he opened the door. Under no circumstances would you let Frank catch even the slightest glimpse of you. At least, not until you were finished getting ready. You were planning a surprise, after all.

When Frank finally got home, he instantly knew something was off. Usually, when you spent the night with him (which was most nights), you'd come meet him at the door whenever he finished up at the garage. You'd slide through the kitchen in your fuzzy socks to give him a hug and a kiss and ask how his day was. It had become such a routine for the two of you, that when it didn't happen, his first thought was that you weren't there at all.

Frank pulled his boots off and hung up his jacket before wandering into the kitchen to see if you had left a note. Maybe your roommate had another "crisis," he thought, or you had to make a quick run to the grocery store. Finding nothing, he grew slightly concerned. It was very unlike you to just take off without so much as a text explaining why.

Then, Frank heard a faint rustling noise coming from the bedroom. He smiled softly, all of his previous worries evaporating as he went down the hall to see what you were up to. You were probably just taking a nap, he thought, but when he got to the bedroom, you were still nowhere to be found. Frank was just about to try calling you when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the light on under the closet door.

"Hey, baby. You in there?" he asked, knocking gently.

"Be out in a minute!" you called back, fluffing your curls that you barely got done before he showed up.

"Whatcha doin' in the closet?" Frank asked, and even through the door you could hear the amusement in his voice.

"It's a surprise," you replied deviously.

"Come on, darlin', you know I hate surprises," Frank griped.

"You'll like this one, I promise," you proclaimed. "Just be patient."

Frank sighed dramatically. "I wanna see you," he grumbled. Smiling, you meticulously straightened the bow you added to pin two small sections of your hair behind your head.

"Oh, trust me," you muttered. "You will."

Taking a step back, you admired your full body in the mirror. You had bought this underwear set a while ago, and were just waiting for the right occasion to use it. It was a beautiful baby blue color, and it hugged your body perfectly. The bra was a short, sheer corset top that showcased your cleavage without being too obnoxious. The panties were soft and lacy, pulled up high in the sides to accentuate your hips. They weren't quite a thong, but they certainly came close. Decorating both pieces were small embroidered cornflowers that made you feel pretty and delicate. On top of it all was an elegant lace robe that you somehow managed to find in the exact same color. It was almost completely see-through and it barely brushed your mid thigh, so you weren't worried about it obscuring any of your best assets.

You looked good. There was no denying that. In fact, you couldn't think of a time you'd ever looked better. You just hoped Frank's heart was strong enough to withstand the sight of you.

Quickly, you added your finishing touches, brushing on your favorite lip gloss and putting in a pair of dainty diamond earrings that Frank got you for Valentine's Day that year. You gave yourself one more once-over in the mirror. Everything was perfect. At long last, you were ready to execute your master plan.

You were a little nervous, but what you were about to pull off wouldn't work if you let it show, even just a little bit. With that in mind, you took a few deep breaths and rolled your shoulders back. Holding your head up high, you slowly opened the closet door.

When you stepped out into the bedroom, you found Frank laying on top of the covers with his arms positioned behind his head and one leg propped up. He was barely doing anything, and still he was the picture of dominance. Even while wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, he looked incredible. In fact, just seeing him was enough to have you fantasizing about crawling on top of him and hiding your face in his chest. But alas, you could not. You had to stay strong.

As soon as Frank saw you, his eyes lit up like a little kid's on Christmas morning. He immediately sat up straight, looking utterly dazzled. It seemed you were right. This was one surprise he could get behind.

"Do you like it?" you asked beguilingly. You gave him a small spin, showing off all the intricate details.

"That's the stupidest question you've ever asked, sweetheart," Frank replied, rising to meet you across the room. "You're a fuckin' angel."

He pulled you in by your waist to leave a soft peck on your lips. Seeing his mouth shine with your lip gloss when he pulled away made your heart skip a beat. You weren't always a possessive person, but that changed when you discovered what it felt like to leave your mark on someone. Especially someone as desirable as Frank Castle.

"Happy anniversary, baby," Frank drawled sweetly.

"Happy anniversary." You were sure you were smiling like an idiot, but you couldn't help it. You and Frank had been together for four years now, and it felt like the shortest lifetime you'd ever experienced. The love you felt for the man in front of you was stronger than anything you had ever felt before, and you knew in your heart that would never change.

Frank wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back in for another kiss, this one considerably longer than the last. The two of you stood there for a while, making out while your hands explored the familiar planes of each other's bodies. Frank was fucking your mouth slowly with his tongue, kissing you like a promise in the way he knew made your knees weak. You almost gave up on the plan right then and there, but your excitement for what was to come later that night saved you from falling into the trap.

You reached a hand down between you to palm at Frank's growing erection. You heard him let out a low hum, and you felt the vibrations travel from his chest through yours, relaxing you from the inside out. It didn't take long for him to start pushing back against your warm hand, seeking some relief, but he didn't find any. . .

because that was when you stopped moving. You pulled away from the kiss, keeping your hand perfectly still and looking up at him sweetly through your eyelashes.

"What time is it?" you inquired, focusing all your energy into keeping a straight, innocent face.

"Uh. . . 'bout 6:30?" Frank was obviously not thrilled that you had stopped kissing him to ask that of all things. 'Perfect,' you thought maliciously. Unable to fight it any longer, a sly, excited smile slowly overtook your face.

"It's dinner time," you whispered.

Before he could react, you slipped out of Frank's grasp and sauntered away to the kitchen. You went straight to the pantry to gather everything you would need to make spaghetti and garlic bread, and set it on the counter next to the stove.

When Frank was finished staring blankly at the wall, mystified, he joined you in the kitchen to find you filling up a pot with water at the sink. He crept up behind you, wrapping you up in a hug and leaving a soft kiss on your cheek.

"What'd you do that for, hmm?" He was using a voice that you were all too familiar with. It was the voice he used when he wanted something from you, and most days it had you folding instantly. He sounded so condescending, and it was playing right into your more submissive side. He was being an asshole, but he was just such a hot asshole, and somehow it always. freaking. worked.

Except it wouldn't work today. You would make sure of it.

"Go sit down, Frankie," you requested, gesturing to the bar behind the sink.

"Dinner can wait a little while. Your tomatoes aren't gonna go bad in an hour, sweetheart." You shut off the faucet and tried to move over to the stove, but Frank tightened his hold on you, refusing to let you go.

"I'm hungry," you complained.

"So am I," Frank teased, making sure you could feel the proof of his statement pressed up against you. You rolled your eyes at how audible his stupid smirk was.

"I'm trying to make us a special anniversary dinner. Now go sit down, Frank."

Frank knew you weren't actually upset with him, and he wasn't stupid so he knew what you were doing. You weren't stupid either, so you knew he secretly liked it. You were having a competition, and you couldn't wait to finally beat your insufferably headstrong boyfriend at a game of wills. All you had to do to win was hold out until you were finished eating, and this time around you had some tricks up your sleeve.

Frank groaned defeatedly. No matter how much he wanted you, his chivalrous upbringing prevented him from denying his lady what she wanted. So, he gave in and trudged around the counter to sit on the barstool across from the sink. You could feel his eyes following you as you went about making your dinner. His gaze was burning holes all over your body, heating up your core and exhilarating your mind. Every movement you made was intentional, perfectly executed in a way that kept Frank on edge and his jeans too tight.

When you needed something from the lower cabinets, you would bend over to show off your panties, and the fabric would stretch tighter around the swell of your ass. When you needed something from the top cabinets, you would stand on your tiptoes and stretch to reach it, revealing more of your tummy and causing the underwire to push your chest out a little further. While you were reading from the recipe book, you would "absent-mindedly" twirl your hair around your fingers or lean forward on the counter, subtly arching your back.

Once, when you were finished blending your home-made spaghetti sauce and it was heating up on the stove, you dipped a finger in the pot and delicately licked it clean. You didn't look at Frank while you did it because you're sure you would have laughed at how ridiculous it was, but you knew he saw it (and liked it) from his small frustrated sigh.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" he asked, semi-sarcastically.

"Nope!" you replied happily, dropping your handful of dry spaghetti in the boiling water.

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure, yeah." You smiled at him, walking past the bar to put your leftover garlic in the pantry on the other side.

As you were walking back, you failed to notice Frank had hopped to the barstool closest to you until he had already sprung his attack. Lightning fast, he snatched you up and pulled you towards him, slipping a hand under your robe to grab at your ass and wrapping the other around your waist to hold you still. He buried his face in your neck, and you felt him shudder and tighten his grip as he inhaled deeply. The special occasion perfume you wore never failed to drive him wild.

"It's just that I feel so useless sitting over here, doing nothing," he purred, his lips tracing patterns across your collarbone.

"You're definitely not doing nothing," you mumbled.

"That right? What am I doin' then, hmm?"

When you didn't respond, Frank slid his hand away from your ass and dragged two of his fingers gently over the lace covering your arousal. When he drew his hand back and held it up, you saw his fingers were significantly shinier than they were before. That was the biggest downside to fancy underwear. Sure, they look nice, but they do nothing to absorb moisture.

"Is that what I'm doing?" You nodded. "Yeah? But I've just been sitting here," Frank teased.

'Goddammit,' you thought. 'How did I ever think I could make it past dinner with this asshole?'

"Know what I think? I think you just like attention. You put on a show for whoever's watching and you get soaked right through, is that it?" He moved his hand back down to start rubbing gentle circles on your clit through the fabric.

"No, I don't," you fussed, pushing at Frank's bicep to try and dislodge his hand. He just pressed down harder, making you desperately wish you could squeeze your thighs together and grind on his fingers until you were dripping on the floor.

"No? Then what is it, sweetheart? What's got you so wet, huh?"

"Just you," you mumbled. "Just your attention."

"Yeah? That's sweet, baby. Well if this is all my fault, then I should do somethin' about it, shouldn't I?"

Unable to fight back any longer, you nodded. The ache in your core was running too deep, and the relief Frank promised seemed more satisfying than any victory possibly could. Grinning dangerously, Frank released you and stood up before pulling you back into a feverish kiss. You got so lost in the contact that you didn't realize Frank was pushing you until your back hit the counter.

Suddenly, Frank's hands traveled down to settle on your upper thighs. This was a signal you were all too familiar with. Barely a second after you felt it, you jumped, wrapping your legs around him as he set you down on the counter.

As soon as he had you where he wanted you, Frank latched onto your neck, kissing and biting wherever he could reach, leaving faint red marks in all your most sensitive places. You squeezed your eyes shut tight and bit your lip hard as voltaic sensations zipped up and down your spine. Frank slipped your robe gently off your shoulders, leaving light kisses along the newly exposed skin.

Frank left a darker bruise on the base of your neck before tenderly grabbing your jaw to trace his tongue along your bottom lip. With one hand (and a little cooperation on your part), he pulled your robe the rest of the way off and tossed it to the side. Then, he began moving slowly down your torso, stopping to nip lightly at your rigid buds through the flowers hiding them and lick a few gentle stripes up your stomach. When he got too far down to bend over comfortably, he pulled his barstool up behind him and tugged you to the edge of the counter before sitting back down.

At first you didn't know what he was planning, but you figured it out pretty quick when he grabbed your legs and tossed them over his shoulders. Your tailbone was aching and the faucet was digging into your back, but you couldn't bring yourself to care when Frank began leaving hot kisses up your thigh. His stubble was rough against your skin and you were secretly hoping you would still be feeling it in the morning.

You felt Franks nose bump against your clit as he swiped his tongue over your obvious wet spot. The sudden feeling surprised you, and you didn't have time to prevent a small whine from slipping out. Smirking, Frank drew his tongue tortuously slowly from the very back of your cunt to your sensitive nub. When he reached it, he sucked gently at it, feeling your thighs tremble around his head.

"Frank, please," you gasped, throwing your head back when he sucked harder.

Frank finally started slipping his fingers in your waistband, and tapped your hip to get you to lift up. He tugged your panties down to your knees and-

*hisssssssssss*

"Oh, shit!" you cried, pushing Frank away from you. Your spaghetti was bubbling over! You hopped off the counter and pulled your underwear back up, running to stir the pasta with your wooden spoon. As soon as you got the water to settle, your timer went off, signaling that it was done.

You grabbed Frank's strainer (which was actually one of yours that you brought over to encourage Frank to eat better) and drained your spaghetti over the sink. While you were shaking out all the water droplets, you looked up to find Frank moping with his head resting in his hand.

"Oh, come on," you said, noticing his pouty face. "What did you want me to do, let your kitchen burn down?"

"You can't start a fire with spaghetti."

"You'd be surprised."

"I just needed five more minutes, baby. That's it," Frank complained.

"Five more minutes and we'd be eating spaghetti-flavored mush," you retorted. "Besides, dinner's just about ready now. You've only gotta wait another half hour, and then you can have whatever you want."

Frank brightened slightly at the prospect, though he tried to hide it. Turns out, after four years of dating, you learn to spot the little emotions flickering behind your partner's eyes.

"Why are you doing this to me, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Don't pretend like you're not enjoying it."

"I just wanna touch you. Why won't you let me touch you, hmm? I know you want me to," Frank grumbled.

"I did let you touch me," you argued back lightheartedly.

"Yeah, but that wasn't part of the plan, was it baby? You're still trying to stay away from me."

"Why does it matter what I'm trying to do if you got what you wanted anyway?" you reasoned.

"I didn't get what I wanted."

"Tough luck. You will."

"You would've lost if it weren't for those fuckin' noodles," Frank jeered.

"Why do you think I set so many timers?"

*ding*

You switched off the oven and grabbed some potholders to extract your garlic bread.

"Go sit at the table. I'll bring you a plate," you ordered.

Frank sighed, but he did as he was told. As the two of you ate together, you actually had a very nice conversation, laughing and talking about your days as if nothing had even happened. Frank told you about a guy that was trying to save the ugliest, most broken car that had ever entered the shop. You told Frank about the return of one of your nightmare customers. For the entire time you were seated at the table, there was no torture whatsoever on either part. You were both content to celebrate your anniversary with good food and the best company you could ask for.

When you were finally done eating and talking, it had been well over half an hour, but it didn't feel like it. Your time spent with Frank never dragged on endlessly like it seemed to elsewhere. His presence was like a multipurpose drug to you, and it worked better than any stimulant or depressant you could find in even the sketchiest of back-alleys in Hell's Kitchen. There was no doubt in your mind that you had found the person you would be spending the rest of your life with.

You stood up to begin clearing your dishes, but Frank caught your wrist before you could touch a single utensil.

"Oh, no you don't," Frank said, pushing you back down into your chair. "You did the hard part, let me handle all the easy stuff."

"Yes, sir," you giggled, watching him work. When everything was cleared, you joined Frank in the kitchen, where you found him rinsing the dishes with warm water and loading them into the dishwasher.

Copying what he had done to you earlier, you wrapped your arms around his midsection, hugging him tightly and pressing your face against his back. He patted your arm with his wet hands, and you smiled into his shoulder before wiping it off on his shirt. Closing your eyes, you relaxed into him, enjoying his warmth and his familiar scent.

"You can just leave them in the sink for now," you suggested sleepily.

"Now who's impatient?" Frank teased.

Groaning softly, you gave him one more big squeeze before letting go and walking away down the hall.

"When you're ready, you can come meet me in the bedroom," you called behind you. Frank finished up pretty quickly after that.

He entered the bedroom to find you laying down with your eyes closed. Smiling at how peaceful you looked, he carefully laid down on the bed next to you. Almost immediately, you rolled over on top of him, enjoying the feeling of his warm chest against your face. He was like your own personal space heater, which made him very useful to have around in the colder months.

You shivered at the feeling of his hand running through your hair. 'How did I ever relax before I met him?' you wondered. You felt dangerously close to falling asleep, and as good as that sounded, there was something you had been looking forward to for a while that sounded significantly better.

Forcing yourself to sit up, you sat straddling Frank's stomach, staring into his eyes and waiting for him to make the first move. You had been having fun all evening; the night belonged to him now.

"I know what you were after earlier, sweetheart. You look a little tired now, is that still what you want?" he asked. He was always so gentle with you. Even when he really wasn't.

"Yeah," you confirmed, "But I want you to do whatever you want."

"Whatever I want, huh? That's a dangerous thing to say, baby."

"I trust you," you whispered. "And I already know I'm gonna like it, whatever you decide."

Frank hummed, running his hands up and down your thighs as he thought about what to do first. You knew he had reached a decision when he grabbed you and tossed you onto the bed beside him. You yelped at the sudden motion, looking over at him to see exactly what it was he was trying to do.

Frank was taking his belt off. He slid over to sit in front of you, belt in hand, and pulled you back onto his lap.

"You know I can't let you get away with all that bullshit you pulled back there, right?" he asked patronizingly.

"I mean. . . you could," you responded.

Frank scoffed. "You should shut your mouth before you make this worse for yourself. You wanna get to the fun part, don't you?"

"This is the fun part," you confessed.

Frank grabbed your jaw roughly with one hand, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him.

"You're gonna take that back in a minute, baby," Frank growled. He released your jaw to catch both your wrists in his hands, pinning them behind your back.

"All I wanted when I got home was to make my pretty girl feel good, but you decided to be a fuckin' brat." There was a darkness in his eyes that you knew was just for show, but it thrilled you all the same. "I'm gonna show you exactly what that feels like."

Holding both your wrists in one hand, he took his belt and wrapped it tightly around them, latching the buckle and securing them together. When he was sure it would hold and wasn't too uncomfortable, he pushed you off his lap so you were laying on your back on the bed.

"Now," he said, "I'm gonna finish what we started."

He immediately sprung into action, forcibly spreading your legs and slipping your panties all the way down. He tossed them aside and fit himself between your legs, leaning in to kiss you. At first you weren't sure how this was supposed to be a punishment, but you figured it out pretty quickly.

Frank kissed you so deeply, tugging at your hair and tracing your curves with his fingertips. He gripped your waist and your thighs, his dull fingernails leaving behind little indents when he'd get carried away. He could put his hands all over you, wherever and whenever he wanted, but you couldn't do the same. You wanted to pull him closer and squish his biceps teasingly to make him laugh. You wanted to feel his stubble in your hands and rub his shoulders as he bit your neck. You never realized how important your hands were when kissing someone until they were taken from you.

As Frank took to reinforcing the fading red marks he left earlier, he slipped a hand between your thighs to cup your dripping pussy in his palm. You gasped as he used the heel of his hand to rub it a few times, the pressure creating an addictive friction that had you grinding down against him.

Without warning, he slid two fingers inside you, finding your g-spot with practiced ease and stroking it gently. You cried out softly at the sudden stretch. Frank's fingers filled you up so much better than yours ever could. Sometimes you swore he knew more about what made you feel good than you knew about yourself.

Your thighs shook as he began pumping his fingers slowly in and out, stopping every so often to grind his palm against your clit. Your arms were falling asleep underneath you, but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the feeling of Frank's hair tickling your stomach as he moved down to replace his fingers with his tongue.

You whined at the loss when he pulled his hand away, but your disappointment didn't last long as he truly began to finish what he'd started. Your thighs clamped down around his head when you felt the first swipe of his tongue, but he forced them back open, his wet fingers marking your thigh with your slick.

You moaned as he gave your cunt several long licks, cleaning up the moisture that had pooled between your folds. The need to reach out and push his head down or grab onto his hair was overwhelming, but you couldn't move. All you could do was take what he gave you. When he decided you'd had enough teasing, he dove in fully, eating you out like it was his favorite thing in the world. He tongued at your clit, sucking it at random intervals to see what noises he could coax out of you. Sometimes, he would lap gently at your entrance, just barely dipping inside so you could feel how empty you really were. He gave you one more rough lick before plunging his fingers back inside you and sucking hard at your clit. You almost sobbed as you came over his hand, trembling through your release. Frank groaned softly against you, enjoying the feeling of your walls fluttering and pulsing around any part of him.

He patted your thighs lovingly, coming up from between your legs to kiss you. You were still slightly out of it and breathing heavily, but tasting yourself on Frank's tongue brought you back to the present.

"See what you did to me now?" he asked when he pulled away.

"Yeah," you breathed.

"Think we're even, then?"

"Uh-huh," you answered, struggling to sit up with your hands tied.

"I don't."

"What?"

"I didn't let you touch me, but I still made you feel good, didn't I? All you ever did was tease me. Do you still think we're even, baby?" Frank questioned, stroking your lip with his thumb.

"No," you mumbled.

"So what are you gonna do about it?"

Instead of responding verbally, you parted your lips and sucked his thumb gently into your mouth. After a few seconds, Frank pulled it out and replaced it with the two fingers that had previously been inside you, encouraging you to clean them off.

"That's a good start." Frank pulled his fingers back, satisfied with your work. "But you're gonna need to do more than that, sweetheart."

You hesitated, trying to figure out how you were supposed to lean forward without falling flat on your face.

"You know what I want, baby," he encouraged. "What are you waiting for?" Frank knew very well what you were waiting for, but his sadistic side wanted to watch you figure it out.

Rising up onto your knees, you spread your thighs apart for better balance, and slowly began to lower your head towards Frank's zipper. You made it all the way down without crashing, but you refused to make a fool out of yourself by trying to unbutton his pants with your teeth. Instead, you gazed up at him desperately, pleading for assistance with just your eyes.

Unfortunately, Frank wasn't budging. He raised his eyebrows at you expectantly, letting you know you were gonna have to work for it. Huffing, you lowered your gaze back to the zipper, bracing yourself for your impending embarrassment. You were just about to attack his button with your tongue when you were struck by an idea. There was more than one way you could work for it.

Leaning in closer, you started mouthing at his bulge, kissing it wetly through the fabric. You could tell it was affecting him by the way he twitched under your tongue when you licked lovingly at (what you hoped was) the tip. Using your nose, you nudged at the hem of Frank's t-shirt, and he pulled it up for you so you could leave little red marks and sweet kisses across his abs. Frank grunted quietly when you sucked at a sensitive spot, petting your head softly so you'd do it again. He was really enjoying the sight of you bent over, begging for his cock with your mouth. So much so, that he almost didn't want to give it to you.

He held out for a while, only giving in when the warmth of your mouth soaked fully through his jeans, wetting his dick and making him want more.

"Shit, alright," he groaned, reaching down to unzip his jeans. He tugged them down just enough to get to his boxers, reaching inside to pull out his hard, leaking cock.

"There," he murmured, tapping it sweetly against your cheek. "Have at it, pretty girl."

You were concerned about catching it in your mouth without your hands, but Frank generously decided you didn't have to everything on your own. When you turned your head towards it, he held it still and fed it to you slowly, stroking your hair as you went at your own pace.

You paused for a little while in the beginning to pay attention to his dripping head, laving at the sensitive bottom and sucking softly at the tip. You left a dainty lick on his slit before you took more of him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around his length. You stared up at him as you dragged your tongue teasingly along the underside, tracing a prominent vein that you were very familiar with.

Frank's breathing was getting heavier, letting you know you were doing a good job. Feeling emboldened, you carefully took him all the way to the base, choking softly as he hit the back of your throat.

"Attagirl, fuck," Frank breathed, pushing your head down farther. He held you there for a moment, subtly grinding his cock against the roof of your mouth. Jolting at the feeling, he pushed a little too hard by accident, triggering your gag reflex. You pulled back to catch your breath before continuing to bob your head up and down along his length, taking him as deep as you could without coughing. Before long, your jaw was aching and tears were streaming down your cheeks from choking a few too many times.

Finally, after nearly fifteen minutes of working Frank over with nothing but your mouth, he groaned deeply, signaling his impending release.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna-" he warned, sighing as he came in hot ribbons down your throat. You closed your eyes and relaxed into the feeling of his cock pulsing on your tongue, waiting for it to soften slightly before letting it fall from your mouth.

You sat back up and watched Frank pull his pants the rest of the way off before tucking himself back into his underwear.

"Are we even now?" you asked.

"Yeah, I'd say so," Frank smiled. "Come here, I'll get you untied real quick."

You turned away from him so he could take the belt off you, wiggling your fingers and rolling your wrists to regain the feeling you had lost in your hands. Twisting back around, you pounced, knocking him flat on his back and pushing his shirt up as far as it would go. Making up for lost time, you began rubbing at his chest and his shoulders, and tracing his abs with your fingertips. He chuckled at your neediness, pulling his shirt off to give you better access, which you happily took advantage of. Cradling his face in your hands, you left dozens of little kisses all over his mouth and his neck. It felt so good to be able to touch him again, you didn't think you would ever let go.

Still holding you close to him, Frank turned so his back was against the headboard and he could cuddle you in a more comfortable position. For a while, you laid in silence, syncing your breathing with his and seeing if you could find a way to match your heartbeats. So far, not much luck, but you were sure you'd figure it out someday.

Checking the clock on the nightstand, you saw that you'd been laying there for about ten minutes. "That should be enough time," you thought. You looked up to find Frank's eyes closed, but you knew he was awake.

"Frankie?" you called, almost inaudibly.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think it's time for the 'fun part' now?"

Frank smiled. "Do you want it to be?"

He opened his eyes, watching you closely as you unfastened your bra in the back, and slipped it off slowly. You dropped it on the bed beside you, leaving you completely exposed for Frank to admire you.

"Yeah, I do," you whispered.

Frank surged up to kiss you again, this time much gentler than before. He ran his hands up your sides to tenderly massage your bare chest. You whimpered into the kiss as he rubbed at your nipples, the little buds sensitive from being previously neglected.

Feeling impatient, you tugged his boxers down and quickly began stroking his growing length. Frank hissed at the shock, but he was thrusting up into your hand before too long. As soon as he was half hard, you lifted up and positioned his cock at your entrance before sinking down all the way. You cried out at the intrusion, feeling him curve perfectly inside you to brush your sweet spot on every thrust.

You sat there for a minute, just barely circling your hips as you focused on the feeling of him hardening fully inside you. When he was finished growing, you began to ride him, slowly pushing your body up and down on his cock as he raised his hips to meet you half-way.

Frank punched little noises out of your chest with every bounce, leaning in to hide his face in your neck. He breathed in the wonderful scent of sweat, sex, and expensive perfume, groaning desperately into your skin.

After a while of thrusting and grinding and bouncing, your thighs began to ache, and you weren't able to maintain the same speed anymore. Picking up on your sudden change, Frank took charge almost on autopilot, and flipped you over so you were underneath him.

You moaned at the relief and the change in tempo as he fucked into you faster and harder and deeper, but still with so much love and care behind every movement. When you caught his eyes, it felt like you were staring into your future, and you saw nothing but inevitable happiness.

Your gasps and whines got louder and louder as you chased your release. Your soaked cunt was pulling Frank back in harder, squeezing tight around him to try and keep him from pulling out. Every sensation you were feeling kept building and building until finally, the tension snapped. You almost screamed as your climax washed over you like a rising tide, whiting out your vision and sending waves of pleasure washing over you.

Frank was right behind you, as the feeling of your walls constricting and fluttering around him pushed him over the edge. He came deep inside you, filling you up perfectly before pulling out carefully and collapsing beside you.

The two of you laid next to each other, holding each other tightly and soaking up the afterglow permeating the air all around you. You couldn't have asked for a better anniversary, or a better special someone to share it with. In that moment, as you got ready to drift off to sleep, everything was perfect.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

[strljaem]

“i love you”

i was listening to saturn, sza while writing this ;)

I sat on my bed, my back pressed against the cushy pillows, a hand over my forehead, as if that would somehow contain the tidal wave of tears that had come rushing out after hours of battling with my Add Maths homework. “Saturn” by SZA played softly through my earbuds, a sweet balm on my frayed nerves. The dimly lit room offered a quiet solace, the faint glow of the streetlamp seeping through the floral curtains hanging from the window beside my bed. It was just me, the music, and the enveloping darkness—a cocoon where the world couldn’t reach me.

I closed my eyes, letting the soft melody carry me away from algebraic formulas and unending equations. The song was like a gentle lullaby, coaxing me into calm. But then, I heard a tap—a faint, rhythmic knock on my window. At first, I thought it might be part of the song, but I knew that wasn’t right; I’d listened to “Saturn” so many times this year that I knew every beat, every note, every nuance.

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes and saw him. Na Jaemin, my boyfriend, standing outside the window, smiling and waving at me. I almost screamed, my hand shooting to my mouth. He looked as stunning as ever, his hair styled perfectly even in the dim light, his eyes bright with mischief. His smile was the kind that could light up a room—or, in this case, a backyard—and his white t-shirt hung loosely on his broad shoulders.

I scrambled to turn off my MP3 player and slowly opened the window. “What are you doing here? How did you get up h—” I started to ask, but he cut me off with a grin.

“I climbed up,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He had that easygoing charm, the kind that could make you forget you were in trouble, even when you most definitely were.

I stared at him, my heart racing, unable to believe he was here. His presence felt like a splash of color in my otherwise monotonous night. He looked at me with those piercing eyes, the kind that made it hard to look away. Before I knew it, I was reaching out and grabbing his hands, pulling him into my room. He stumbled slightly and landed on my bed with a thump, laughing as he did. It felt surreal, having him here, in my space. I quickly closed the window, making sure no one saw him, then turned to check if the door was locked—thankfully, it was.

“Make yourself comfortable,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice low. He stretched out on my bed, his gaze wandering around the room, settling on my cluttered desk with its piles of papers, pens, and my calculator.

“Had a tough night?” he asked, his voice gentle. I couldn’t help but laugh nervously.

“Yeah,” I replied, not trusting myself to say more. It was too strange, too wonderful, having him here. I tried to steady my breathing, but the way he looked at me with those warm eyes made it impossible. He leaned over and patted my head, his hand sliding down to caress my cheek.

“You’ve worked hard. I’m so proud of you,” he said, his voice low and intimate. My cheeks flushed, and I playfully pushed his hand away, trying to hide my embarrassment.

“Thank you, i guess,” I scoffed, trying to play it cool, but my heart was racing. He laughed at my reaction, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“So, what brings you here?” I asked, trying to shift the conversation away from my embarrassment.

“We’re neighbours, remember?” he replied with a wink. “I wanted to spend some time with you. I’ve been so busy with dance practice lately.” As he spoke, he reached out and gently caressed my hands, his touch sending shivers through me.

The way he looked at me made it hard to stay composed. It was like a magnetic force, pulling us closer. I tried to joke to break the tension. “Why, do you want to sleep with me?” I said, raising an eyebrow.

Jaemin was caught off guard for a moment, but then he flashed that dazzling smile. “Yeah, how did you know? I was thinking about that all day,” he replied, still smiling. I widened my eyes, pretending to be shocked.

“Seriously?” I said, trying to keep a straight face. He laughed, his laugh infectious and full of warmth.

“Relax, we’re not going to do anything. I’m not that kind of boy,” he said with a playful smirk, leaning in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Besides, I know how strict your parents are about you having boys in your room.”

His words made me wish I could tell him how much I wanted to kiss him right then and there, but I had to keep my composure. “Fine, since you’re already in your pajamas, it’s perfect,” I replied, pulling him down to lay beside me. He seemed taken aback by my boldness but went along with it.

“Heh, slow down, sweetheart,” he teased, but he stretched out beside me, his presence warm and comforting. We talked about everything and nothing, our words weaving into a heart-to-heart conversation as we hugged and cuddled. We said “I love you” to each other, the words like a soft echo in the quiet room.

Then, Jaemin asked, “Your parents won’t barge in tomorrow morning, will they?” His concern was genuine.

“No, I already locked the door,” I replied, feeling reassured. We settled in for the night, the warmth of his body against mine. I never thought I’d fall asleep with my boyfriend beside me, but there we were, holding each other close. I fell asleep to the sound of his breathing, slow and steady, his arms around me like a protective shield.

The next morning, I was the first to wake up. I checked my phone—7 a.m. It was still early, and thank God it was Saturday. My hair was a mess from tossing and turning all night, and I was worried I might have accidentally kicked Jaemin while I slept. I tried to move without waking him, but our hands were still intertwined, and I couldn’t help but be flustered by how close we were. I glanced at Jaemin, his eyes still closed, his long eyelashes casting delicate shadows on his cheeks. His lips were slightly parted, soft and inviting.

Before I could think about it, I leaned in and pressed my lips against his, a gentle kiss that felt like a rush of warmth. He reacted instantly, pulling me closer with his hand on the back of my head, his lips parting to let my tongue explore. It was a slow, deep kiss, one that made my heart race and my body melt into his. His hand slid down to my waist, caressing it gently, and I couldn’t help but feel lost in his touch.

The sounds of our kisses filled the room, a soft symphony of passion. We lost ourselves in each other, the moment stretching into eternity. Then, I pulled away, gasping for air, laughing at how breathless we both were. Jaemin laughed too, his smile contagious.

“I didn’t expect that,” I said, my voice still breathy. His smile slowly faded, replaced by an intimate gaze that made my heart skip a beat. He pulled me back in for another kiss, his lips claiming mine with a fervor that made everything else disappear.

“I love you,” he whispered between kisses, his warm breath sending shivers through me. The kiss deepened, his hands moving over my back, and I knew I was in trouble—the kind of trouble I never wanted to escape from.

But then, a sharp knock on my door shattered the moment. “Y/N, are you awake? Come and have breakfast downstairs,” my mom’s voice called from the other side of the door. We both jumped, breaking apart. I felt a rush of panic, trying to keep my cool as I responded.

“Yeah, Mom, I’ll be down in a minute,” I said, my voice shaky.

“Don’t forget we have to leave in an hour,” my mom reminded me, her voice fading as she walked away. I widened my eyes, realizing I hadn’t packed for the family gathering at my aunt’s house. Jaemin looked at me, his eyes full of curiosity.

“Where are you going later?” he asked, leaning in closer.

I quickly explained, and he hummed in agreement. We sat on the bed, trying to catch our breath. Then, we remembered the kiss, and we both smiled, unable to contain our laughter.

“Thanks for the night… and…” I said, trailing off, not sure how to finish the sentence. Jaemin raised his eyebrows, eagerly waiting for my response.

“And… the hugs,” I finally said, bursting into laughter. He pouted, pretending to be disappointed.

“What about the…” he said in an aegyo tone, making kissy noises with his lips. I lightly smacked his arm, trying not to laugh too hard.

“I think you have to leave now, or you’ll get caught,” I said, glancing at the window. Jaemin laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll see you later, okay? Call me when you’ve arrived at your aunt’s house,” he said, carefully opening the window. He looked outside to make sure the coast was clear, then turned back to me. I waved him goodbye, and he blew me a kiss before slipping out the window.

After he left, I closed the window and let out a sigh of relief, still remembering the night and the kiss. My mother shouted from downstairs, “Hurry up!” I panicked and ran to tidy up my room, especially the mess i’ve made on my study desk last night.

[luviebuuggie]

Bath Time <3

this is the first fic I'm posting, like ever O_O, so I hope you all enjoy! If you would like to send me prompts, ideas, ANYTHING hahaa, feel free to, and ill try to write out a story for it !! <33

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ｡:･ﾟ☆*

Warnings: DDLG, bath time, washing your hair, cute nicknames, idk 🤷‍♀️

Pairings: Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary: Bath time with your favorite bath toys, and your Daddies!

Word Count: 1,842

*･༓☾:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

“Lovebug,” Bucky spoke as he entered the playroom. "It's bath time, bubs." Catching your attention from your coloring book on the carpeted floor and glance up at him.

“But Daddy,” drawing the word out for more exaggeration. “I haven’t finished my blue unicorn yet…” you sigh with a slight frown.

Bucky kneels down next to you, resting his large hand against the back of your head reassuringly, and gives you a slight smile. “I know, bubs, but you can continue working on it in the morning, okay?” he says as he rubs his hand over your hair.

Still with a slight frown but hope now gleaming in your eyes, you reply, “Promise Daddy?” While staring into Bucky's big eyes. You study his face to make sure his next reply is truthful.

Bucky stares down at you, a loving smile overtaking his face because of how precious his little baby is. “Of course, I promise, Angel. Now, how about we get cleaned up and ready for bedtime?” You nod as he picks you up and sets you down on his hip, walking out of your playroom and towards the bathroom.

Leaning your head down on his relatively comfortable shoulder, you ask, “Could I have a snack after my bath Daddy?” 

This question receiving a humorous laugh from Bucky. “Sure, Doll.”

♡༓☾ ｡:･ﾟ☆*

Bucky lifts you into the now full bathtub, steam seeping into the room nicely. Sitting down in hot water, your body immediately relaxes as you let out a sigh. 

Bucky slowly sits down beside the tub, reaching over to grab something. “You want toys, baby?” He says, holding up a basket of all your toys explicitly designed for the tub.

Your eyes lit up, gaze catching on the rubber ducks and the bath crayons. “Duckies ‘and crayons, Daddy!” Excitement laces every word.

Bucky knew how much you loved your bath toys. Your cute reaction never failed to make him laugh. As much as Bucky loves your adorable little reactions, he still wants you to remember your manners. Pulling the basket away momentarily, he asks, “What do we say, Doll?”

You grin up at Bucky. “Please, Daddy?” Your hands softly splash around in the water as you squirm. 

Bucky’s eyes squint at you, pleased at your answer. He hands over the basket. Left hand grabbing onto the side, you peer into the basket full of toys and spot all your favorites. You grab all the duckies and start placing them into the water. Then you spot the bath crayons you love to draw with and hurriedly grab every color and set them on the edge of the tub with the biggest smile imaginable on your face. 

“Got yourself a whole collection, don't you, Doll?” Bucky says with a chuckle, putting the basket back down on the floor. With his legs spread out before him, he leans back on his hands to watch you play for a while. 

You stare at all the toys now in the bathtub and try to decide what to start with first. Do I play with the duckies first? Or the markers first? You wonder to yourself. You choose to start with the markers and draw them a home! You grab the blue marker and get to work on drawing a house for your duckies as Bucky sits quietly to watch you work with a smile on his face.

♡༓☾ ｡:･ﾟ☆*

“Is that your drawing, LoveBug?” Steve asks as he walks into the large bathroom. Bucky gazed up at his husband. Steve walks forward and sits on the bathtub's edge to see your work closer. 

Peering up at him, you smile and reply, “Yeah, Dada! For my duckies!” Steve gently places his hand on your back, slowly moving in up and down. You continue to look up at him, waiting for a reply. As Steve began to open his mouth to say something, your impatience got the better of you as you interrupted him before he could speak. “It's a house, Dada. For my duckies.” You remark, as though you have to state the obvious.

This causes laughter to erupt from both Bucky and Steve. Both men can hardly contain their laughter at how you stated your sentence. You weren't quite sure why they were laughing. Steve knows what a house is, right? You think to yourself as confusion flows through your little-space mind. You ignore the quiet laughter and continue drawing, adding little flowers to the windowsill. 

Steve, still quietly laughing and failing at his attempts to stop, says, “I know it’s a house, LoveBug. It looks very good too. You did such a good job, Baby!” He gives you a small pat on the head. 

“Thank you, Dada.” You smile at the rewarding words, feeling pleased with yourself.

“Okay, I’m gonna go prepare Doll a snack for after her bath.” Bucky stood up, brushing the wrinkles out of his shirt. “Could you wash her hair?” Bucky asked, directing his question toward Steve. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve got it.” Steve replied, moving over to grab the shampoo bottle. “It shouldn't take long.” Turning his head around to face his husband, he gave Bucky a quick, intimate smile. 

Bucky nodded, smiling back at his husband and exiting the bathroom.

Turning back to you, Steve grabbed a cup and filled it with water. “You ready to wash your hair, Doll?” 

Facing away from Steve, you squeal your approval and cover your eyes. The water swooshes down your long hair. Steve repeats the action, fully drenching your hair to prepare for the shampoo. He sets the cup down and grabs the shampoo, squeezing out just enough to massage your roots. 

As Steve starts rubbing the shampoo into your hair, all you can think about is how lovely the feeling of his big, warm hands massaging your head is. You cherish every moment, the way you can feel his fingertips gliding through your hair, and the perfect hot bath water warming you up. You could stay here in this moment forever. 

Steve pulls his hands from your hair and grabs the cup, filling it up with water once more. “You ready, Doll?”

You give him a little thumbs up with your right hand. “Yes, Dada.” You say as quietly as a whisper, knowing Steve would hear you no matter how quiet you were. You quickly, but carefully as to not hurt yourself, slap your hands over your eyes, causing a calm giggle from Steve. 

Steve pours the water down your long hair, using his left hand to guide his fingertips through the strands and help the water remove all the shampoo. He repeats this action a few times until he’s satisfied. “Now we’ve just gotta do the conditioner and you'll be ready to go, Baby.” Steve remarks, attempting to convey a bit of enthusiasm in his voice to help encourage you. 

“Can I play with my duckies while you put in the conditioner?” You ask him, rotating around to face him better. 

“Of course, you can, Doll.” He says and begins to condition your hair.

You grab your yellow duckie, deciding his name is Albert, while Steve strokes your hair gently. You determine that your duckies will live together in the house you drew, not including Donald because he’s in time out. You set Donald on the edge of the tub farthest away from you, causing Steve's hands to falter as you move.

“What are you doing, Doll? Why is that duckie going all the way over there?” Steve asks, resuming his massage on your hair. 

“That’s Donald, Dada. He’s in time out.” You say nonchalantly. 

Your reply has Steve raising his eyebrows and halting his hands. “Donald the duck is in time out?” He questioned, beginning to laugh.

You simply hum in the affirmative to his question, too focused on playing with your duckies to notice his laughter. 

Trying to contain himself, he ask’s, “What’s he in timeout for, baby?” 

You turn around to face Steve, slightly amused by his laughter but keeping your pure look of seriousness etched on your face. “Because Donald stole Puddle's car keys, then burned down all of Daisy’s daffodils! It was so mean of him, Dada!” You exclaim.

Steve bursts out in laughter, unable to contain himself any longer. He doubled down, causing you to quietly giggle at his bizarre reaction.

“Dada, it’s not funny!” You declare even as giggles are escaping your mouth while you speak. 

“I'm sorry, Doll.” Steve says, his laughter slowly starting to fade as he calms down. 

You and Steve make eye contact, and Steve can't help the chuckles that leave his mouth while he covers it with his hand. 

Once Steve finally settles after his fit of laughter, he says, “Okay, Doll. Let’s wash this conditioner out of your hair.”

You turn back around, facing away from Steve, and get into your position to cover your eye’s with your hands.

Steve takes his time rinsing out your hair, careful as to not pour any of the water down your face. Once he’s content with your hair, he tells you, “You can move your hands now, Doll. I just need to clean your body then you'll be good to go, Okay?” 

You nod and proceed to play with your duckies again as Steve grabs a washcloth. Steve carefully clean’s you, thoroughly washing every bit of you possible. Once he feels that he has cleaned all up, he stands and grabs a towel. Steve grasp’s your favorite towel, a fluffy small towel in your favorite color, long enough to keep your entire body warm and cozy. The best part? It has a small hood with bunny ears! 

“Stand up, Baby.” Steve says as he holds the towel up for you. 

Your ear’s perk up at your Dada’s words, and you quickly stand up and face him. Steve gives you a small smile and wraps you up in the fluffy towel, picking you up from the tub and setting your feet on the floor. He starts rubbing his hands over your towel-wrapped body to help you dry off, doing so quickly causing a few giggles to escape you. 

Steve, smiling ear to ear due to your giggles, kneel’s down a bit closer to you. “You ready to go get jammies on, Baby?” He says with excitement lacing his voice. 

“Yeah!” You exclaim. 

Steve gleams at you, picking you up and setting you on his hip as he exits the bathroom. You cuddle your head into his chest, feeling more content and sleepy than ever in your Dada’s arms. Right as you begin to close your eyes, you feel Steve handing you over to Bucky, causing you to peek your eyes open and squeak in excitement over seeing your Daddy. Both your Daddies chuckle, smiling at their little baby. You cuddle into Bucky’s chest, closing your eyes while Bucky gently sways you side to side. 

All you feel is content happiness knowing that you're safe in your Daddy’s arms, and will soon be cuddled between the two super soldiers in bed. 

༓☾ ｡:･ﾟ☆*

The end! <3

[haileyywrites]

Summary: Kaveh's strange ability to draw in animals of all kind had always been more of an annoyance than a blessing. At least until a particular cat lead him to meet someone interesting...

Pairings: Kaveh x Reader!

Warnings/Notes: Completely gender neutral reader! Poc friendly! Pure fluff! Possibly ooc Kaveh maybe? Not properly proofread!

For some reason Kaveh had always had the ability to attract animals of all kind to him. At first he didn't mind as he very much liked animals, but it became a real problem and a nuisance for him later on... He'd simply step outside for a break or something of the sort and soon enough birds, dogs and cats would begin swarming him for his food or affection - of course he would feel bad for them and give in to their demands...

After a thorough talking to by Alhaitham he begrudgingly listened and would avoid places where pets or wildlife gathered. It felt stupid having to avoid animals that meant no harm to him, but he understood Alhaitham's point and knew he would just give in again. Any pets that would approach him in the city would give up easily when he stood firm and shooed them away. Except for one...

This particular cat that had never begged him for scraps and only wanted affection wouldn't leave him alone no matter how much he tried. It was ridiculous really! No matter what route he took the persistent feline would always find him and meow at him until he agreed to either pet it or play with it for a while. No matter what he did he couldn't get rid of it, he was out of options since splashing it with water just seemed cruel.

The cat was definitely well taken care of and even had a collar that was clearly custom or homemade by its owner. It was a healthy rounfd and it's fur was well kept - then why was the cat so keen on him? It didn't seem interested in the scraps he would sometimes give to distract it, but instead it just wanted some belly rubs and a playmate. It was truly bizarre...

“Meow!”

“Oh no, it's you again! Listen I don't have time to just play with you all the time!” He tried to hopelessly explain to the clueless animal.

“Meow?”

“I'm serious! You need to find someone else to beg for pets. Why don't you go find your owner?” He exclaimed in frustration.

“Meow.”

“I know you probably don't understand what I'm saying, but I don't know what you want from me!” He sighed loudly.

Before he could properly react the cat jumped into his arms and stole the feather placed in his hair. The cat was quick to jump away before Kaveh could hold onto him and caused him to fall down in the commotion. Baffled he turned to look at the cat that was just watching him with the colorful feather secured in it's mouth. It slowly began to run away with Kaveh scrambling to chase after it.

It was truly a sight for others to see the blonde shouting and running with full speed chasing a cat... Some didn't react at all while others watched in either confusion or amusement, but no one did anything to aid the poor man despite his shouts for help.

The feline rounded one last corner before finally stopping much to Kaveh's relief. He followed after to see the cat facing away from him and meowing at someone standing in front of it. His eyes wandered upwards until they reached the face of the person and he couldn't tear his eyes away...

The midday sun made your features glow beautifully as if you were an angel with a halo, you were standing amidst a flower field making you look ethereal. Was he in a dream? He almost completely forgot about the cat that lead him here in the first place until it let out a loud meow which caused you to pick it up. You noticed the decorative feather in its mouth and carefully remove it without the cat caring in the slightest.

“Would this be yours?” You asked.

He was so preoccupied with your voice to register what you said at first, after an awkward pause he coughed and nodded with an embarrassed look. You didn't seem to mind as you smiled kindly and handed the feather back to him. His cheeks only continued to heat up as his fingers breafly touched yours, they were so warm and soft...

“I'm so sorry for the trouble my cat has caused you.” You apologized with a sincere tone.

“It... It's fine.” He mumbled, he couldn't bring himself to complain to you despite the trouble.

“Is there anything I can do to apologize properly to you?”

“Honestly it's fine! There's no need!” He tried.

“I insist! Please.” You smiled again.

Kaveh couldn't help but give up when you made a face like that, “Okay... Then how about lunch?”

“That sounds good! I'll just quickly take my cat inside and retrieve my mora!” You sprinted off before he could reply.

Kaveh was simply left standing with a flustered expression as he waited for you. He looked down at his hand which held the feather your cat had stolen, thinking about it now he wasn't even mad about it... He noticed you returning and quickly placed it in his long blonde hair without too much thought - which was unlike him.

You were about to say something before stopping and smiling humorously at him, he was confused before you reached out and gently adjusted the feather slightly. Kaveh couldn't tear his eyes away from your face as you were standing so close to him, close enough that he could feel your breath on his skin and smell your scent... He felt almost like a creep for some reason.

“There! It's very beautiful - especially against your blond hair!” You smiled brightly.

“Thank you.” He couldn't help, but smile despite his cheeks burning brighter - if that was even possible at this point.

“Your smile is even more beautiful!” Honestly were you trying to make his heart stop with how wonderful and lovely you were?! But he thanked you regardless.

“So, what should I call you?” That's right he never introduced himself to you or vise versa!

“Kaveh.” He held out his hand for you to shake out of habit.

Before he could pull his hand away you took hold and shook his hand gently while introducing yourself. Once again he was touching your soft and warm skin, though it was embarrassing he didn't want to let go... Your hand felt so nice in his, so lovely against his skin. He held onto your hand longer than appropriate which embarrassed him greatly but didn't seem to phase you thankfully.

Honestly he was thankful for that troublemaker cat you owned and for his strange ability to draw in animals, otherwise he would never have met you. He made a mental note to remember to bring your cat a treat tomorrow. If in the future it happened that the feather fell from his hair and your cat happened to run off with it in your direction... Well he wouldn't be that mad at it for being so mischievous.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait and shortness of this fic!! Posting this in honour of our pretty boy becoming playable! Congratulations to all the Kaveh havers! Anyway likes, reblogs and or feedback are appreciated! <3

[dedeinthewild]

Hey bestie, how are you

Could you pretttty please do an arvid story where he calls his girlfriend and she picks up and is literally at his house having dinner with his family. Lile they love her more than they love him and he gets all pouty and jealous cos they got to spend time with her and she doesnt

hii! I'm ok, thanks for asking, hbu?

I'm having so much fun seeing the messages from all of you and the reactions to the drivers x reader imagines, so a huge thank you is mandatory :)

arvid lindblad x reader, established relationship

~ "are you home?"

2024 had been an emotional rollercoaster for the Brit, who had found himself thrust into the sister formulas of the queen and had triumphed so many times that he had established himself as one of the strongest drivers.

And Campos had noticed. They offered him a contract for the following season alongside the Spaniard Pepe Martí.

Success, however, came with a slew of commitments, which had him traveling much more than he expected, spending less time in one place than he’d have liked.

He’d created so many beautiful memories, had a lot of fun with his teammates and the other drivers, and met incredible fans during race weekends. Yet, deep down, he was always on a plane—often delayed—with a meal deal dinner in hand and a hoodie keeping him warm.

And in moments like that, he felt the absence of his girlfriend more than ever.

Because maybe if she were there, she’d be so anxious about the takeoff that he’d be laughing, teasing her, and maybe even trying to calm her down through tears of amusement.

But instead, he was alone. Next to him sat a businessman with a briefcase who could easily have been a lawyer—or, for all he knew, something more sinister.

“Love💫”—that’s how he had saved her name in his contacts, adding a splash of color to an otherwise monotonous list of names and surnames.

He thought for a second before pressing her name, gazing outside where the wing of the plane merged with the dark Spanish night. In the distance, he could just make out the control tower’s lights.

Maybe he felt a bit foolish admitting he needed to hear her voice, but what was the point in keeping up the façade everyone else loved when she knew him like the back of her hand?

“Hey,” she answered, her voice carrying a smile he could easily imagine.

“Hey.”

“I thought you’d be flying by now.”

“Delayed. They took forever checking boarding passes,” the driver sighed.

“A good forever, it seems,” she teased.

In the background, Arvid heard a familiar sound: the steady chime of bells he knew well but couldn’t quite place.

“How are you doing?” he asked her.

“Happy. I took a break from studying. I was going crazy with exams.”

“It was about time,” he said, fiddling with his passport and settling deeper into the airplane seat.

“And what about you? Did you try those churros I told you about?”

“Yeah, I went with Pepe. They were fantastic.”

He pictured her sitting at a desk, laptop open, writing something she’d likely keep to herself, while her playlist played some classic in the background.

“I wanted to try them with you, though.”

She smiled softly, her heart tightening at the change in his tone. He wasn’t his usual sarcastic self; he sounded a little lonely.

“When you come home, I could try making them.”

“And burn down the kitchen? Not a chance,” he chuckled.

Someone laughed in the background, making him strain his ears to figure out where she was. Her surroundings didn’t sound like the quiet living room of her house in Italy.

“Are you home?” he asked.

“Actually, I wanted to tell you, but I guess I forgot,” she said, switching to speakerphone.

“Say hi!” she said, looking at Arvid’s family, seated around the dining table at his parents’ house just outside London.

Everyone erupted into warm greetings for the driver. When he heard the unmistakable voices of his dad and brother, Arvid let himself relax, closing his eyes to soak in the atmosphere.

“Hi, everyone,” he smiled, imagining how they’d probably invited her over for his mom’s famous lentils and some conversation.

“I’m really sorry. I must have forgotten to tell you.”

“Don’t be, ____. Don’t apologize,” he said, a little emotional, as his mom moved closer to his girlfriend. He could almost picture her resting her hands on her shoulders, trying to figure out if it was a video call or not.

“Hey, my darling, how are you?” his mom asked in her ever-so-sweet voice.

“I’m alive and well, Mom,” he laughed, running a hand through his curls before adjusting his headphones.

“Can I turn this into a video call, or will I bother you?”

“I’m literally having dinner with your family, Arvid,” his girlfriend grinned, switching to video and rotating her phone to landscape mode so he could see her face.

Instead, he saw a piece of home.

There she was, wearing a V-neck long-sleeve shirt, his mom standing just behind her, and the rest of his family at the table with a pot of fondue in the middle.

“You’re treating yourselves, huh?” he joked, waving at his brother, who was devouring a piece of bread.

“We can’t help it when she’s with us,” his dad quipped, making Arvid smile.

“I totally get it,” Arvid said, knowing full well the effect his girlfriend had on anyone she met—and how his family probably loved her even more than they loved him.

“When will you be home?” his mom asked, peering into the camera.

“Two weeks. Just a quick stop at Prema’s.”

They all nodded, chatting a little longer until the flight attendants announced the plane was about to take off.

His family returned to the table, diving back into the fondue with the joy seeing Arvid always brought, while ____ stepped outside into the garden, sitting in the cold with only her shirt to keep her warm.

“You’re going to catch a cold,” he said.

“It’s fine,” she shrugged.

“Are you mad that I’m here?” she asked, the Surrey evening breeze ruffling her hair as she hugged her knees to her chest.

“I could never be mad. At least you’re spending time with them, and they with you.”

She caught the tone in Arvid’s voice and rested her chin on her hand, gazing at him.

“And you’re jealous of that.”

“Not in a bad way.”

“I know, Ar,” she said, wishing she could hug him in that moment.

The bells chimed again, the unmistakable melody making them both smile.

“I could always catch a train when you’re in Grisignano,” she suggested, watching as he tried to avoid being caught by the flight attendants, who were doing their final checks.

“You have school, and you’re already tired.”

“And?” she smiled. “I miss you.”

“You’ve got my mom. She loves you more than she loves me.”

“Can you blame her?” she teased, just as his brother called her back inside to help with dessert.

Arvid blew her a kiss, showing her the view from the plane window.

“You’re being pouty,” she teased.

“Which seat were you sitting in?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

She didn’t answer, trying to stifle a laugh, knowing exactly whose seat she had taken at the table.

“My seat? Are you serious?”

“I love you,” she laughed, as a flight attendant told him to switch his phone to airplane mode.

“When I catch you…”

And so the plane took off from a Spain that had brought Arvid so much joy, heading toward an Italy he loved.

Meanwhile, she spent time with his family, falling for the place he’d always called home. They just needed to hold on a little longer. Then they’d go back to being the paddock’s weirdest but sweetest couple—though she might not survive the fight for his seat at the table.

~ not proofread or anything, I really hope you like it!

[feronaville]

im deep down on megamassikalove's blog cc shopping n saw her participate in an ask game thingie n i wanna do it too even tho its like a year old LMAOO bc it looks fun n i rarely see them on my dash!

1. What’s your favourite sims death? old age ,, boring answer but i love my sims man they my babies fr any other death genuinely upsets me

2. Alpha CC or Maxis Match? maxis match altho i do sorta uhh maxis mix i think it's called sometimes, really i download whatever i like (mostly maxis match) i just want everything in simlish fr

3. Do you cheat when your sims gain weight? i like when my sims gain weight bc that's how i get my body diversity but if their outfit doesnt have fat morph n i dont wanna change their outfit i do cheat it sometimessss but not very often

4. Do you use move objects? move objects is enabled in my game alwayss

5. Favorite mod? honestly im not sure! im def a big acr fan but that's just the first one that comes to mind, there's soooo many must haves imo!

6. First expansion/game/stuff pack you got? both sims 2 pets n sims 2 seasons! my auntie bought them for us, i got soooo excited about pets n lil ol me asked her, "woah can we get monkeys??" LMAOO

7. Do you pronounce “live mode” like aLIVE or LIVing? i pronounce it like aLIVE

8. Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made? REESE BULLARD!! he was in my very first bacc years ago, he had more personality than any of my other sims ever had he was so silly

9. Have you made a simself? i have! i made one in sims 2 back in like 2018 but she didnt look like me fr haha, i made one some years ago in sims 4 n she actually looked a lotttt like me but i have lost all her pics unfortunately. now i just have a sim in one of my current 'hoods that's named after me

10. What sim traits do you give yourself? dang if only i knew myself better fr ,, hmmmm ima say animal lover, loves the outdoors, artistic, childish, socially awkward. maybe

Which is your favorite EA hair color? hmm i don't think i have one? i'll just say red

Favorite EA hair? i don't see ea hair in my game fr anymore but as a kid i think my favorite one was meg i think

Favorite life stage? im not sure honestly! i might have to go with child, or adult idk tbh

Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay? i only started getting into building fr last year i think, building is a struggle for me but i really enjoy it! i think i'm def more of a gameplay person tho i just feel pretty restricted building for sims 2

Are you a CC creator? i am! pretty much just recolor things but i wanna try my hand at making terrains to share, and i'm slowly starting to upload lots n want to upload sims as well. i've made splash music and loading screens too, kinda wanna get back into doing that actually

Do you have any simblr friends/a sim squad? i consider @gir-sims to be my friend! yall should check out her bacc, its both on youtube n dreamwidth!

What’s your favorite game? (1, 2, 3, or 4) the sims 2 is my favorite game in the world, been playing since i was like four/five!

Do you have any sims merch? i have a social bunny sweatshirt that i adore! i tried to google for it but it seems the shop is closed now, i got it from etsy by littleplumbobdesigns. i found this shirt it's the same design, except what i have is a pink sweatshirt with a pink social bunny!

Do you have a YouTube for sims? i do! i currently just have my port taylor bacc series on it, it's linked on my blog :^)

How has your “sim style” changed throughout your years of playing? i spent the first manyyyy years of simming without cc ,, idk how i did it man. i used to use alpha cc for sims 4 then i ended up switching to mostly maxis match! for sims 2 i switched hair systems twice (started with new hair system, then simgaroop, now it's mostly poppet v2). i can recall switching eye defaults too. that's all i can think of

What’s your Origin ID? i think it's behindthesea00 (my mom made me the account to buy me sims 4 for christmas) BUT i share that account with my younger sister. i dont think she plays sims anymore so idk if she still gets on it, i dont either tbh i dont need origin/ea play/whatever to play my game anymore YAY

Who’s your favorite CC creator? oh gosh there are soooo many!!

How long have you had a simblr? hmmmm i think i've had this one for 3-4 years? but it's been longer than that bc i have a sims 4 simblr that i completely abandoned as i no longer play sims 4, i havent played it since right before infants came out

How do you edit your pictures? for gameplay pics i just cropped them for the most part, occasionally adding a silly lil detail to it. i add woohoo heart to censor nudity when needed. for cc i honestly seem to just do whatever i feel like doing, lately i think i just take the pic, crop it, n add text to it

What expansion/game/stuff pack do you want next? i only play sims 2 so no more packs for me! other than cc packs that our lovely community makes!

What expansion/game/stuff pack is your favorite so far? for sims 2 hmmmm im honestly not sure, ahh this is a hard one! sims 2 has such great packs idk if i can choose! hmmmm def pets for sure n i really love open for business too

[autisticshadowthehedgehog]

i was supposed to die (you were supposed to live)

It's a cross-dimensional problem, so it requires cross-dimensional heroes to solve it.

He gathered the very best, everyone he's fought and bled with. The princess of flames and oceans. The genie who binds her own book together with page tears and grieving tears. An angry little brother who raised himself in a world that could never be whole. Girls who flew through worlds on a whim, hand-in-hand, only to return home in time for New Year. Rockstars, reapers, elves, cyborgs. Versions of him, too; one with sparks of chaos glittering off his fur and lightning in his soul, one with a backpack of rings and feet that didn't know how not to run, and one with a darkness inside he would never call upon and a brilliant, dazzling light he spread around him to make up for it. She recognized that in his eyes even if he didn't say it. It wasn't hard to do so.

She saw a similar spirit in the newcomer's eyes, too, and that was the first thing she saw of him. She recognized the eyes, then– the color, the shape, the way they darted side-to-side when he entered a room to assess what was inside. That feeling wasn't in the eyes she knew. She looked over the rest of him, then, seeing the familiar quills, the familiar way he crossed his arms when he didn't want to talk, the way his tail held stock-still assessing for threats. He had the same rings, she noticed, as hers; she wondered if they did the same thing. There was same red paint splashed on his shoes.

He looked up at her, then, and she saw that flash of painful recognition in his eyes. At her own steady blue gaze, at her skin, pale from lack of sunshine, at the way her hair curled around her ears. She knew from that look, then, that he was from a world without her. There were a lot of worlds without her, she'd found whenever she looked into them. People she'd lost lived instead. And if she lived, they died. It wasn't fair. Neither were any of these worlds. No world was fair towards anyone.

She looked back to him and held his gaze this time. He'd finished his shocked stare, and a block came over his expression, trying to block his emotions from everyone else in the room. It happened fast enough that she was probably the only one to see it. But she knew. Even in another world, she knew him. She knew him too well.

As they looked at each other, she tried to let her gaze soften, but she found herself holding strong to that same shielded look. It was probably because if she broke now, she'd break completely, and think about her version of him, left behind in her world which threatened to crumble. Everything dies, but not today. She'd think about them trying to kill each other, loyalties divided and bonds broken. Everything dies, but not today. She'd think about something small, like them at five and seven quarreling over what was best to put in stew. Or them at six and eight sleeping under the stars, naming them and wondering what could make them shine so bright. Everything dies. Or at nine and eleven getting stuck in a tree, waiting to be found and blaming each other, and then sitting and watching the sun set together. But not today.

She knew this wasn't her version of him, the same way he must have known instantly that she was different from whoever he knew. She didn't know this boy standing in front of her. He didn't know the girl in front of him. They knew nothing about each other and yet they knew absolutely everything. They had no relation to each other, no paths that had ever crossed, and they were family all the same. She wondered if siblings could recognize each other in every reality, or if it was just them.

"Shadow! There ya are!"

Sonic slid across the table, leaping down to tackle-hug the boy in front of her, who immediately shrugged him off and elbowed him to the floor. She glanced briefly towards the blue blur as he got up, dusting off his shoulders.

"Shoulda expected that, yeah. I see you just met Merlina! She's gonna help us out, too."

Everyone dies.

They knew each other.

Not today.