#He tries it on all innocent but then likes the way it looks and feels and he is like OH

[crowofmidnightsworld]

In your dreams | Caleb

Caleb x female reader Type: Smut, almost no plot Synopsis: You and Caleb had fallen asleep in your bed, watching movies. In the middle of the night you wake up by something, or rather someone, rubbing against you. Warnings: MDNI, needy/desperate m, cursing, possessive m, finishing inside, love confession

Word Count: 2.4k

He couldn't take it anymore. It had started off so innocently. You and Caleb decided to spend the night in, watching movies, since it had been raining all day and there had been nothing else to do.

It had been a fun night, especially because you had recently started to trust Caleb more again. You're slowly letting him back in, but sometimes it truly felt like you couldn't live with or without him. He made your mind go crazy, because he wasn't your brother anymore and you were starting to doubt if he ever really was, confused about your feelings for him.

And now you're lying in front of him. His arms wrapped around your middle and you had felt so safe, that you dozed off. Unlike Caleb. He has been awake the entire time and relished the feeling of you lying in his arms. Pressed against him as tight as humanly possible and his mind couldn't stop going into overdrive. He had realised years ago that he had never seen you as his sister. At first it had scared him, because the thoughts he had had about you were something no brother would ever dare to think of his sister.

When those thoughts first entered his mind, he tried to distance himself from you but as soon as he noticed how much that had hurt you, he stopped, even if it had been torture for himself. Over time he started to justify his thoughts. His cravings. And he realised that he hadn't seen you as his sister, even when he was a young boy. You were like sunlight that had to be protected, and that's what he did. Especially when he realised how many people wanted to hurt you. He was content with killing anyone who dared lay their hands on you or even look in your direction. You were his. His obsession. His sunlight.

For the hundredth time tonight the smell of your coconut shampoo enters Caleb's nose and he can't stop himself from burying his face in your hair again. He hates that he feels like this about you, his mind and his feelings contradicting in every possible way, but as long as you don't know about it, he's content with how things currently are. Until you start talking and moving in your sleep.

At first a chuckle bubbled out of Caleb, trying to be as quiet as possible to not wake you up, but your words start to become more clear. An incoherent string of words like "Yes", "Right there" and even quiet moans coming out of your mouth fill the room, and Caleb immediately goes rigid. He can't believe what he's hearing right now, not sure how to deal with this situation, but then you push your hips against his. And you say his name. His name.

Every colour in Caleb's face drains, his mind going a thousand miles an hour, when he notices that familiar feeling of his pants tightening around him. Fuck. His first thought is to pull away from you a little bit, but the second he moves even an inch away from you, he hears you whining in protest and he immediately stops. Caleb's heart is about to burst out of his chest, because that's what he had been imaginging almost every night. Every night he was alone at Skyhaven with his cock fucking into his fist, or even back when he was training to become a pilot.

Only a few seconds later he realises that he has starting grinding his hardness against you, needing to feel that friction. Needing to feel you. Does he feel bad about it? Yes. But you're making all these pretty sounds and you're saying his name, so he tries to justify his actions with that. He nuzzles his face into your shoulder, slowly moving one of his hands under your shirt. The need to feel your skin, to feel you overpowering his rational thoughts.

And that's when you start to wake up. At first you think you're still dreaming and you feel this pang of guilt. You always felt it when you had these dreams about Caleb, but they just wouldn't stop. Too afraid to deal with those feelings, you never really tried to think about what you truly felt for him. And you are so scared of losing Caleb, if he ever found out about this.

The grogginess of sleep slowly lifts from your brain and that's when you feel it. Strangely the feeling of someone grinding against you, touching you, doesn't leave and you're completely confused. Until you hear the shaky breaths of Caleb so close to your ear. Your face instantly feels like it's on fire, considering how good his movements make you feel. And you hate yourself for a second for wanting him to keep touching you. Feeling the need to let him know that you're awake, that you know what he's doing, you finally speak up. "Caleb?".

Caleb hears you but he's already too far gone. His grip on your stomach only tightens and his mind is at war. He should stop, he knows that, but then again, he has been waiting for this for so long. "Please...Please...Just this once, Pipsqueak". The sound of his whiny voice, begging you to let him continue, almost makes you dizzy and now your entire body feels like it's on fire. Caleb is still grinding against you and from that alone you just know he's packing. He just makes you feel good and you honestly don't want him to stop. That's why you gently grab his hand that has been under your shirt for a while now and you guide it up to your chest. That's your answer.

As soon as Caleb realises that you're allowing him to keep going, that you actually want this, he feels like his brain is about to explode. The soft and warm skin under his hand feels so right and he immediately notices the hard nipple, brushing against it. "Fuck, you really want this, huh?". Now his lips are brushing over your shoulder and the slight growl in his voice makes something deep inside you tighten. If he only knew for how long you've been cravingthis.

Caleb's lips feel so soft on your shoulder and you move your head a bit to the side, just to give him more room to play with, which he immediateyl takes advantage of. His lips trail over your shoulder to your neck and he gently starts to suck on that sweet spot, drawing more of those sweet sounds out of you. The sound of rain pattering against your bedroom window disappears, drowned out by your quiet gasps and by Caleb's erratic breathing.

Everything about this situation is overwhelming you, but you need even more. You need to feel him. That's why you grab his hand again, with which he's currently gently flicking his fingers against your hard nipple. "Don't make me stop... I can't...". He sounds even more desperate than before, biting into your shoulder to make you stop, as his hips start to grind against you even harder, but you have other plans. "I won't. I just need you to...". Not being able to finish your sentence, a small part of you still feeling like what you're doing with Caleb is wrong, you wordlessly guide Caleb's hand down to the hem of your shorts.

For a second Caleb stops everything. With a tight grip on the hem of your shorts, he's now just breathing against your neck and you can feel his heart hammering against your back. He won't stop. He knows that, but he also knows that once you two cross that line, it'll never be as it was. Your heart also feels like it's about to jump out of your chest, the mixture of anticipation and need making your own breath speed up. And that's when Caleb slowly pulls down your shorts. His fingers are grabbing your shorts and panties at the same time and suddenly you find yourself lying in your bed with Caleb behind you, completely bare. Never in a million years did you think inviting Caleb to a movie night would end up like this, but you're so glad that you did it.

Moving his hand away from you, you can hear Caleb pulling down his own pants and before you can even feel his cock anywhere near you, that intense feeling in your middle grows stronger. Before you can think about what you two are about to do, Caleb pushes his hard cock in between your thighs and he can only growl, when he feels how wet you are. How your slickness is already covering him and his hand quickly moves to your hip, holding on tight. "Tell me, Pipsqueak. What were you dreaming of?". That question alone makes your face heat up again, but at the same time only whiny sounds leave your lips. He feels so good against you, rubbing his tip against your pussy at such a fast pace, hitting your clit with it every time. How could you tell him that you had been dreaming of that one night a few years ago, when you two kissed. That you wished he would've done more that night?

"How long have you been dreaming of me like that? For how long have you wanted to be mine?". He just won't stop. Caleb had always loved teasing you but now is not the time for this. All you want is for him to take you. To finally still that hunger you've felt for him for years now. You simply start to grind against his hard cock, willing him to accidentally slip inside, but Caleb's hold on your hip just tightens. Holding you in place. Another whine escapes your lips, but Caleb doesn't chuckle. He is just as much of a needy mess as you are right now, but that doesn't stop him from teasing you. His breath feels hot against your ear, making a shiver go down your spine and it's the most infuriating yet delicious feeling you've ever felt.

"Because I've been wanting to do this for years.". Without any other warning, Caleb finally pushes the tip of his cock into you, not entering you completely yet. A loud groan rumbles through Caleb's chest and all you can do is throw your head back a little bit, moaning. He only has his tip in you and yet you already know that he's big. Just like you knew he would be from the beginning. After a few seconds of letting you adjust, Caleb continues pushing into you in the most agonizing, slow way, as his teeth sink into your shoulder again. Rolling back your eyes at that sensation, feeling Caleb inside you to the hilt, you take in a deep breath.

After a few seconds of letting you adjust and kissing your neck again, Caleb starts to move. His thrusts are slow at first and it feels so good. Way better than it has ever been in your dreams. "Imagine how many times I had to fuck myself in the past years because of you.". Caleb knows exactly what he's doing with his words and you know he's saying it now to get a reaction out of you. Despite not wanting to give in so easily, you start to clench around Caleb's cock, earning a haughty chuckle from him. He's filling you out completely, drawing more moans out of you but it's not enough for him. "You really had no idea how much I wanted to fuck you, make you mine, all these years...".

His thrusts become faster after this. In this moment Caleb can't be the sweet boy for you. He need you to know that you're his and only his. That you always have been his, even though you didn't know it. The sounds of your skin slapping against his, satisfy something primal in Caleb and he's just pistoning in and out of you. Your moaning and whining gets louder in response to that, since Caleb is also hitting that sweet spot over and over again. You definitely can't think straight anymore. All you know is that this is right. This is where you're supposed to be.

With how fast and rough Caleb is pounding you, you feel that familiar sensation of your impending orgasm, and from how Caleb is groaning and breathing against your ear, you know that he must be close too. "Caleb, please... Finish inside". For a second Caleb has to force himself to keep moving, even though his brain is short circuiting right now. He has been wanting to fill you up with his seed from the beginning, but he never would've thought that you'd allow it or even beg him to do this. Something snaps inside him and somehow he manages to pound into you even harder. His grip on your hip tightens even more, sure to leave marks on you, but you don't mind.

After a few more thrusts, you finally feel that tight knot deep inside you breaking, and you cum like you've never done before. Starting to see white spots in front of your eyes out of pure pleasure, you throw your head back even more, your eyes rolling back. Your entire body is shaking, as you scream out his name and your pussy starts to clench around Caleb's cock. And that's it for him. "Oh fuck, I love you.". Groaning out those words, Caleb spills his seed inside you and he repeats those three words over and over again. You can feel him twitching inside you, as he fills you up and you feel like you could come again, just because of his confession.

Ever so slowly Caleb's thrusts slow down until he isn't moving anymore, but he stays buried inside you. His sweat covered forehead rests against your shoulder and you're both trying to catch your breaths. You have never felt like this for someone before and you realise that you don't want to anyways. If you could you would stay here with Caleb forever. Never letting him go again. "Did you just say you love me?". Your question is exactly what Caleb expected but he doesn't mind. His breath is still heavy as he gently kisses your shoulder again. "Mhmm, I've loved you for years, Pipsqueak.".

[xfgpng]

control …

— [ nsfw ] kissing, dry humping, first kiss + they’re both virgins

— wc :: 1.2k

caleb likes to think he’s in control of everything that happens around him. he’s always been pretty good at controlling his emotions and schooling his expressions and he tries not to overreact.


that’s the problem with her, she throws him off balance in the best and worst ways and it leaves him feeling so unsettled.

the thing about college, it’s supposed to be the best years of your life and he doesn’t know if he agrees or disagrees with that. if he really thinks about it, it’s bullshit but he knows why he feels that way.

he keeps himself composed most days, he has no reason to act out of character but this is something new to him.

caleb wasn’t naive enough to think this would never happen, he just always thought he’d be able to handle it well but he cannot. his hands feel clammy and his hot around his neck. is this even normal? he doesn’t fucking know.

he wants to lie and say he’s completely normal about her having other guy friends but he’s definitely not. his skin crawls whenever they touch her shoulder, grab at her wrists even if it’s completely platonic and innocent.


he especially hates when they lean in to close to talk to her when they’re at a party and the music is too loud. those are the nights caleb avoids alcohol like it personally offended him.

he cannot trust himself to be sober in these situations, he doesn’t want to imagine what he’d do with his evol even if the thought sends a thrill through him. he knows he has a problem, he’s just not going to deal with it.

not in a healthy way at least.

“caleb?”

he snaps out his thoughts, smiling down at where she’s laying on the floor in his dorm room. she’s supposed to be studying but she’s distracted and he shouldn’t enable her but he always does. she’s just too pretty, she has a face you cannot say no to and you’d be insane to disagree.


he’d like someone to disagree, that would be a fun day for him and a very unfortunate one for them.

“i’m listening” he lies. if he had been, he would’ve heard what she asked him and understand why she’s being all shy right now.

“wait.. what?” he sits up, looking at her properly. he definitely has a problem if he’s thinking about her so much and she’s right next to him.

“.. it’s stupid” she frowns

“it’s not” he reassures. he means it sincerely because he is willing to do whatever she wants. he hopes she doesn’t know that.

“i just .. i haven’t had my first kiss yet and i know some people think it’s a big deal and maybe it is but how will i know?” she looks up at him and she looks so upset by this so he tries not to panic.


was she seeing someone? did she like someone and that’s why she was thinking about kissing?

caleb could tell her it’s too early to worry about that and maybe she could just focus on college but that would be selfish of him. so selfish.

“i could teach you” he says and it’s out before his brain can even process any of that shit but it’s too late now because her eyes widen and she sits up so fast.

“what?” she asks because even he can’t believe what he just said.

“i just mean if you’re that curious” he smiles, playing it cool.

“you’d do that for me?” she stands now, moving to sit on his bed right in front of him and he will kill his roommate if the fucker comes back now.

“you know i would” he shrugs like it’s nothing even though his heart his beating so fast.

and that’s the thing about control, he always believed he was in control of everything in his life but the moment their lips touch, he feels his entire world shift and he doesn’t know if he’s breathing but she trusts him.

he has his hands on the side of her face before he can stop himself and she gasps softly into the kiss that he can’t help but lightly bite her bottom lip. she likes that, or so it seems because she doesn’t push him away.

her lips taste like the peach flavoured lipgloss she likes to wear and her skin is soft beneath his fingertips.

“is this okay?” he asks, running his thumb across her lower lip. she’s so beautiful, it hurts.

“yes…” she nods, “… can we do more?”

“more?” he tries not to show how excited that makes him.

“with tongue” she whispers

he doesn’t need to be told twice and her moan makes it hard to focus on anything other than her lips against his and how hard he suddenly is.

he slips his tongue into her mouth and she learns pretty quickly, he hasn’t even kissed anyone either but he’s seen enough videos and he’s always been a pretty fast learner himself and he would be damned if she had this experience with anyone that wasn’t him.

she moves closer, her arms around his neck and he can’t pull her onto his lap. if he’s being honest, he’s been hard since she said yes to the kiss but he would never want to overwhelm her. her first kiss is special because it’s them, he wouldn’t rush this.


that is something he can control.

“does that feel good?” he asks because her comfort is the most important thing to him.

“yes” she sounds less shy now, more like herself and she’s smiling so sweetly he can’t help but lean back in and this time she takes the lead and he likes how she lightly pulls at his hair. he didn’t know he’d be into that but he’s learning a lot about himself since being in college.

she climbs onto his lap on her own and if she feels how hard he is, she doesn’t comment on it which he appreciates. she’s always been considerate and just so perfect he thinks he might combust.

“put your hands .. on my waist” she tells him and he nods, as if he’s in some sort of trance now.

he’s not embarrassed about the grinding or the fact that he cums in his pants 10 minutes later. he’s still a fucking virgin and she doesn’t seem to care because she moans loud enough for him that he knows everyone down the hall heard her and only a small part of him hates that, he knows when he’s alone he’s going to be pissed that they heard how pretty she sounds but right now he wants to keep kissing her.

[semisasseater]

But I'm overwhelmed with jealousy

Jealous! Se-mi x fem! reader

Summary: jealous gf se-mi headcannons!

Tw: jealous, possessive, aggression, intimation, killing/sabotaging players (didn’t get into detail), light hearted threats, se-mi is down BAD, se-mi wants readers attention, physical touch, humor + exaggeration (the kid part.) swearing and snarky remarks.. (kinda?) let me know if i missed anything!

authors note: can you see this is an enhypen reference? (the name of the fic and the pictures used..) dyk i actually name all my fics after my favorite artists (enhypen, illit, and ariana grande?!) also im gonna cry i miss my wife gabby but she’s doing SCHOOL. gonna sob

Not proofread!

Word count: 531

Jealous! Se-mi x Reader Headcanons

• Se-mi isn’t the type to openly admit she’s jealous, but the moment she feels threatened, her entire demeanor changes. Her eyes darken, her body stiffens, and her jaw clenches ever so slightly.

• She has a sharp resting glare, so sometimes people don’t even realize she’s fuming with jealousy—until she makes a snarky remark under her breath.

• If she sees someone getting too comfortable around you, she’ll silently step closer, standing just a little too protectively beside you, as if she’s reminding them who you belong to.

When a Kid Compliments You:

• You two were just casually walking down the street when a little kid looked up at you and innocently said, “Wow! You’re really pretty!”

• Before you could even react, you felt the air change—Se-mi went completely silent.

• You turned to see her standing still, her eyes darkened, lips pressed into a thin line. Instant panic.

• “Oh nononono, Se-mi! You’re not gonna hurt the child—he just complimented me!” you blurted out, quickly stepping in front of her.

• She scoffed, shaking her head. “You think I’d actually fight a kid?”

• …You weren’t sure. Because the way she was looking at that child made you think she just might.

• The poor kid, oblivious to the tension, just giggled and ran off. Meanwhile, you spent the next five minutes calming Se-mi down, reassuring her that even toddlers weren’t competition for her.

When Another Player Flirts With You in the Game:

• Se-mi is not subtle when another player tries flirting with you.

• She immediately steps between you and them, fixing them with a cold, unreadable stare.

• “Keep your eyes on the game, not my girlfriend” she says flatly scaring the other player away.

• If they don’t get the message, she doesn’t mind “accidentally” knocking into them during red light green light or making their life slightly more difficult.

• One time, Player 230 “jokingly” said, “Damn, Y/N, if we make it out of here, you should go on a date with me instead.”

• Se-mi didn’t say a word—she just gave him a look that made him rethink and question what he said then he takes what he said back.

Random Moments of Jealousy:

• Eye Contact? Nope. If someone so much as stares at you too long, Se-mi will stare back—until they get so uncomfortable they look away first.

• Physical Touch? Absolutely Not. If someone puts a hand on your shoulder or leans in too close, she’ll immediately pull you toward her with zero hesitation.

• Possessive Gestures. She often rests her hand on your waist, gives you her jacket, or calls you “mine” loud enough for others to hear.

• When she’s feeling particularly territorial, she’ll kiss you in front of others—just to make it crystal clear who you belong to.

When You Reassure Her:

• Sometimes, her jealousy is unreasonable, and you know it.

• “Se-mi, do you really think I’d leave you for a random stranger?”

• She crosses her arms and looks away, muttering, “I don’t like people thinking they have a chance.”

• You can’t help but smile and grab her hand, pulling her close.

• “You’re the only one for me, dummy.”

• She doesn’t respond, but you see the corner of her lips twitch—and that’s how you know she’s secretly pleased.

Overall:

• Se-mi is undeniably protective and territorial, but she trusts you enough not to lash out unless absolutely necessary.

• She won’t always voice her jealousy, but she’ll make sure everyone knows you’re hers in one way or another.

• Despite her sharp and intimidating nature, she secretly just wants reassurance that you love her as much as she loves you.

• And honestly? You think it’s kinda cute—as long as she doesn’t actually try to start a fight with a child again.

@semisasseater

[chvoswxtch]

thriller- request a deleted scene from any of my one shots/series

do you remember this fantasy? first of all, still obsessed, second of all, now i wanna know how they try and fail to keep their hanky panky a secret from foggy

how could I possibly forget??

I had way too much fun with this. poor foggy can't catch a break

as a reminder, director's cut means it's spicy ! (minors dni)

blurb below the cut

clueless starring matt murdock

Foggy was out to lunch, or at least he was supposed to be.

Hadn’t he just left?

Matt couldn’t remember. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed between his partner walking out the door and him hauling you up on the edge of his desk. He’d gotten lost in the pleasure of your snug slick warmth squeezing his cock like a vice, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, your fingers lightly tugging at his hair and your breathy moans in his ear. His nose nuzzled against your neck as he left open mouthed wet kisses along your skin, nipping at your pulse point, panting and grunting in your ear.

This was supposed to be quick, but Matt had gotten carried away. His arm was wrapped around your lower back, holding you tight against his chest, while his other hand gripped your thigh firmly. Somewhere along the line his fervent thrusting had slowed into slow, deep strokes. He flexed his hips, grinding his pelvis against yours in a way that caused delicious friction against your sensitive clit.

He could feel that you were on the verge of coming, and he wasn’t far behind you, but then the ding of the elevator went off and he could hear Foggy’s familiar voice humming some pop song that he’d gotten stuck in everyone’s heads, and Matt froze.

“Fuck.”

“No no no, don’t stop. Please, I’m gonna-”

“Foggy.”

The mention of your other boss broke through the haze of lust you’d been lost in, and you looked up at Matt in confusion.

“What?”

“Foggy.”

When Matt immediately pulled out and started to stuff his glistening hard cock back into his pants, the frantic repetition of Foggy’s name seemed to click in your brain, and your eyes widened.

“Oh, shit.”

The two of you scrambled to make yourselves presentable, and just a few seconds later, the door of Nelson, Murdock, & Page swung open, and Foggy’s voice called out.

“Matt? Y/N?”

Clearing his throat, Matt adjusted his red tinted sunglasses on his face and adjusted his tie for the seventh time in ten seconds.

“In here.”

Foggy’s footsteps grew louder as he approached the door of Matt’s office.

“Okay so I met with Brett, and he said he could-”

Matt tried to appear relaxed as he sat at his desk, and you were trying to appear as innocent as possible. Foggy glanced between the two of you silently. The two of you seemed…off. He was going to ask, until he noticed that you were holding a stack of papers that you tried to appear busy with.

Papers that were in Braille.

Upon a second glance, he noticed you looked a little…frazzled. Matt’s hair also looked a little tousled, and peeking out beneath his tie was a button on his shirt that was undone. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to put the pieces together. Rolling his eyes, Foggy shook his head and turned to walk out.

“Jesus Christ, Murdock.”

Matt immediately began to stammer out an excuse while embarrassment burned in your cheeks. 

“Foggy, it’s not-”

“We have one rule in the office Matthew!”

Setting the papers down on Matt’s desk, you awkwardly cleared your throat.

“I’m gonna…um…coffee.”

As you practically bolted out the door, Foggy called out to you from his own office.

“I want a muffin for emotional distress in the workplace.”

[killerplink]

I told y'all I got more Nightwing ones lined up. This one's just fluff but I NEED HIM.

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Female Reader

Plot: What was supposed to be a simple grocery run turns into a full-blown snack heist, with Dick pulling every trick in the book.

Words: 2,3k

CW: established relationship, fluff, humor, domestic shenanigans, grocery store chaos, snack heist, playful banter, mild tickling, slice of life, Dick being a menace, reader suffering (affectionately)

You should've known bringing Dick to the grocery store was a mistake. You should've known.

But when he offered to drive, flashing you that easy, boyish grin, promising he'd be good, you figured, what's the worst that could happen? A quick, responsible trip—grab the essentials, stick to the list, avoid distractions. Simple.

Except, somewhere deep in your soul, you knew. You knew better than to trust him in a place with this many snack aisles.

Your gut warned you. Your instincts screamed. You had years of experience dealing with this exact brand of nonsense, and still—you let him waltz through those automatic doors with zero supervision, like you weren't escorting a six-foot-tall toddler into a candy wonderland.

Really, this one's on you.

And yet, here you are, standing by the cart, listening to the unmistakable crinkle of plastic, feeling your eye twitch as you turn around—

Only to find Dick caught red-handed, a giant bag of sour gummy worms frozen mid-air, halfway to the cart, like he thought he could sneak them in undetected.

There's a fraction of a second where he looks genuinely offended at getting caught, like the audacity of your observational skills is the real crime here. You can see his soul leave his body as he freezes mid-action, standing so still it's almost admirable. Like a goddamn deer in headlights.

If you weren't so busy glaring at him, you'd be impressed.

"... Dick."

He doesn't move. Doesn't blink.

Just stands there, completely still, as if that might somehow undo the fact that he was just caught trying to be sneaky. His hand is still half-stretched, and you can see his fingers twitch slightly, like he's debating whether to keep the bag or drop it and pretend it never happened.

His lips part slightly, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head, desperately trying to figure out an escape plan. His eyes flick left, then right, like he's searching for an out, but when his gaze locks with yours, his expression falls back into the innocent act, lips curling into a soft, unconvincing smile.

And then—ever so slowly—he tries to place the bag in the cart anyway.

Oh, the audacity. He does it so carefully, so deliberately, like maybe—just maybe—you won't notice if he moves slow enough. Like he's testing some bullshit theory about your depth perception, just casually lowering the bag with all the grace of a malfunctioning vending machine.

And for a second—just a split second—you almost let him. Because honestly? The sheer commitment is impressive, but you snatch it before it even touches the groceries.

He gasps.

Like you just mortally wounded him. Like you personally reached into his chest and stole his soul. He clutches at his heart with both hands, his face the very picture of betrayal. "Baby!"

You narrow your eyes. "What is this?"

He blinks at you, the picture of innocence. "A necessary expense?"

You let out a slow, measured breath, trying to keep your patience intact. "We don't need this," you say, shaking the bag pointedly.

His face immediately shifts into the most exaggerated pout, eyes big and impossibly blue, practically dripping with fake heartbreak. "We do need them."

"Dick."

"Baby."

You don't break eye contact. Neither does he. But he's relentless—turning up the puppy-dog eyes, tilting his head just so, lips parting in that soft, pleading way that always, always makes you weak.

But not this time. You won't cave.

You exhale sharply, turning back to the shelves. "We're here for groceries. Real food. Not—"

Thump. Your head snaps around, and time slows. You swear you hear the sound of a judge slamming a gavel somewhere in the distance.

Dick—this absolute menace—has just placed a second bag of gummy worms in the cart like it's a normal transaction. Like it's a given that you'll just let it slide.

And the worst part? He looks proud of himself.

Your jaw drops. "Dick."

He grins, hands outstretched like he's just completed an Olympic feat. "Well, baby, you were distracted."

You snatch the second bag just as fast as the first. "No."

His hands go to his hips, his face twisting in mock offense. "You're so mean to me."

You roll your eyes. "We're shopping for food, not junk."

"Then why are we here?"

You fix him with a flat look, holding up the shopping list like it's evidence in court. "For the things on this very specific list."

He leans in, peering at it like it's some kind of ancient text, lips pressing together in deep, exaggerated concentration. "Hmmm. I don't see eggs."

You flip the list around, pointing directly at eggs.

"Oh," he hums. "I don't see—"

"Dick."

"Okay, fine," he grins, backing up toward the cart, hands raised in surrender. "I'll push."

You narrow your eyes at him, suspicious.

That is not a selfless offer. That is strategy.

You know this game. You've played this game. This is not about "helping". This is about controlling the terrain. He's taken cart duty as a strategic advantage—gaining full possession of the moving target so he can execute his bullshit snack heist while you're distracted.

You sigh, rubbing your temples. You're dealing with a professional. But you let him, still eyeing him carefully as you push into the next aisle.

And for a little while, he behaves. He actually follows along, doesn't stray too far, occasionally even reaching for things that are actually on the list.

It almost makes you think you might've won this round. Until you hear it again.

That quiet, telltale rustle of plastic, and you whip around so fast you almost knock over a display.

Oh, no you don't. Not again. You snap your head so fast it's a miracle you don't get whiplash, fully prepared to catch him in the act—

And sure enough—

There he is. Mid-drop.

Your grown ass boyfriend—fully aware of his actions—has paused in real time, two chocolate bars hovering over the cart like he's conducting a goddamn séance.

Your eyes widen. "Richard."

For a moment, neither of you move.

Then? He gasps, deeply scandalized, like you just hurt his feelings. "You never call me that unless I'm in trouble."

"Oh, you are," you mutter. You snatch the candy from his hands before he can even think about dropping them in the cart. "No snacks."

His shoulders slump like a petulant child. "No fun."

"I heard that."

"Good."

He sticks his tongue out for good measure, crossing his arms over his chest like a grumpy kid who just got his recess privileges revoked. It's so ridiculously dramatic that you have to physically stop yourself from laughing.

You shake your head, exhaling through your nose, and for a little while, he actually seems to accept defeat. Until you make the mistake of looking away for five fucking seconds. You're focused on checking labels, making sure you grab the right thing, and when you finally turn back—

Your cart is filled with snacks. Not just one or two things, but an entire stash. Oh, this is premeditated. This is organized crime.

He didn't just grab things—he curated this stash. The items are neatly arranged in a ridiculously methodical way: sweet snacks in one corner, salty snacks in another, a fucking theme emerging like he's opening a concession stand.

Like he actually took the time to plan this.

The worst part? You don't know when the fuck it happened. How long was your back turned? Ten seconds? Fifteen? That's all he needed?

"Dick!"

"What?" he says, all casual, as if he's not standing there like a gremlin who just pulled off a successful heist.

You gesture wildly at the cart. "What the fuck is all this?"

"Uhm... necessities?"

You groan, rubbing your temples. "We are not here for snacks!"

"Why not?"

"Because—" you let out another exasperated sigh. "Because we don't need them!"

He raises an eyebrow, smug. "Don't we?"

"DICK."

"Okay, okay," he laughs, leaning in to press a sweet little kiss to your temple, like that's going to magically make you forget he's being a total pain in the ass. "C'mon, baby. Just a few things? A little treat for your handsome, hardworking boyfriend?"

Your lips press together. Damn it. Your shoulders slump, and the second you sigh, his entire face lights up because he knows he's got you right where he wants you.

"Fine," you sigh, holding up one finger. "One."

His brows shoot up. "One type of snack?"

"One thing of snacks."

"Oh, baby." His grin stretches impossibly wide. "That's a challenge. Not for me, though."

And somehow, you already know what's coming. Sure enough—he takes full advantage of the loophole, grabbing a huge box of mixed candies, one of those ridiculous variety packs with every type of chocolate, and a party-size bag of chips—

All in one. All technically counting as one item. You look at the absurdly large variety pack sitting in the cart, then back at Dick.

He is positively beaming. Like he just won something. Like he calculated the loophole the second you gave in and set you up for this outcome, smiling so sweetly as if he didn't just blatantly manipulate the terms of the agreement.

This was a heist from the beginning.

You close your eyes, inhale slow, and mutter under your breath—

"I hate you."

"No, you don't." His grin is positively criminal, fully unbothered as he drops the massive box into the cart. "Besides, I followed the rules."

"You're unbelievable," you sigh, placing some pasta in the cart.

"I love you," he says with the most boyish grin he can muster, all sweet and soft and giggly.

"You are so annoying."

"And handsome," he adds, stealing another kiss as he proudly wheels the cart toward checkout, so pleased with himself.

You huff, shaking your head, but you don't argue. Because, yeah, he's an absolute menace. But he's your menace, and honestly? You wouldn't trade him for the world.

Later, you're curled up against his chest on the couch, munching on one of his snacks—he'd left them out, after all. You're doing nothing wrong.

He notices and suddenly sits up straight, eyes narrowing. "You've got to be kidding me."

You innocently glance at him, chips still in hand. "What?" you ask, playing dumb, your lip jutting out in the softest of pouts.

He leans back, crossing his arms. "You're really gonna just steal my snacks now? After all that?"

"Steal? I'm just... sharing in your success," you reply, smiling sweetly as you pop another chip in your mouth.

Dick's eyes narrow as if he's sizing you up, the moment of triumph slipping away from him. He reaches for the bag, but you pull it closer, feigning innocence.

"What's wrong, baby? Are you gonna deny me the pleasure of your snacks?"

You raise an eyebrow, letting your fingers hover over the chip bag like you're waiting for permission.

He grumbles, leaning forward, his hand still hovering over the bag like he's ready to strike. "That's my snack, sweetheart."

You give him a look, matching his smirk as you dramatically look at the chip in your hand and back at him. "What snack? This one?"

You take another one, slowly, teasing him as if you weren't completely aware of how worked up he's getting.

You yelp and pull the bag back, holding it over your head like a goddamn champion. "Nope, too slow!"

He groans, flopping back against the couch with a defeated sigh. "You're so evil."

You grin, sitting up a little to settle back into your spot on his chest, casually enjoying his chips. "You started it," you tease, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Besides, I'm just following the rules."

His lips curl into an exaggerated frown, but there's a gleam in his eye as he lets out a quiet chuckle. "You're lucky you're cute. But just wait. I'll get them back."

"Maybe," you reply, pulling another chip from the bag, "but I've got the high ground."

You settle back into your comfy position, leaning into him. For now, it's your turn to be the snack thief—and you'll enjoy every minute of it. Or so you think.

One second, you're smugly crunching on a chip, reveling in your stolen prize, and the next—Dick moves.

Fast.

Before you can react, his hands are on you, fingers digging into your sides in a ruthless, practiced attack. A shriek bursts from your lips as you're ambushed, his laughter mixing with yours as you squirm, trying and failing to escape his grip.

"NO—DICK—" you gasp between giggles, thrashing as he mercilessly tickles your ribs.

"Thought you could just steal my snacks and get away with it, huh?"

His voice is smug, teasing, as he effortlessly pries the bag from your grasp and tosses it onto the coffee table.

You let out an exaggerated gasp, scandalized. "How dare you."

"How dare you," he counters, grinning as he shifts above you, effortlessly pinning you against the couch. His hands settle on either side of your head, his weight warm and solid as he hovers over you.

You blink up at him, breathless from laughter, your heart racing for a very different reason now. His smile softens, that playful glint in his eyes melting into something warmer, something that makes your stomach flip.

"You're a menace," you huff, but there's no real bite to it.

Before you can argue—not that you were going to—he closes the space between you. His lips press against yours, slow and deliberate, his weight keeping you deliciously trapped beneath him.

He kisses you like he has all the time in the world, deepening it just enough to make your toes curl, his hand slipping up to cup your cheek.

And just like that, any thoughts of revenge, of stolen snacks, of anything that isn't him—disappear.

When he finally pulls away, his lips are still curved in a smirk, his forehead resting against yours.

"Mine," he murmurs, thumb brushing over your lower lip. "Both the snacks and you."

"Fine," you sigh dramatically. "But I'm still stealing your fries next time."

He groans, flopping onto you with a laugh. "Baby, no—"

But you just grin, wrapping your arms around him. Because, honestly? You've already won.

[mtcloudsworld]

𝙂𝙄𝙑𝙀 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝙊 𝙔𝙊𝙐 | choso.k

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | +18, mdni, black!fem!reader, pierced!reader, curlyhair!reader, plus size!reader, enemies to lovers!choso, study season turned to a little bit more than just studying, excuse any errors I will eventually edit it later on, in the meantime, enjoy :)

"F-Fuck doll!"

It was supposed to be just an innocent little study session between you two.

"Oh, Cho~"

No messing around, shenanigans or throwing insults at one another.

"Mm, baby."

Just casually studying and sharing notes for the upcoming test.

"S-Shit, that feels good."

"Y-yeah?"

"Mmhm, yeah..." Moaning, you giggle a little at the sight of his blush, lip tucked between your teeth as you press him into you completely, legs spreading wider. Allowing his face to bury into the crock of your neck, getting comfortable in your embrace as you stroked through the dark strands of his long hair. "Mmph, right there, baby, please."

But it seems like the skin tight lavender tank and shorts fit didn't help his dirty mind as it revealed the most dangerous parts of your voluptuous body. Glorious chocolate skin, pierced nipples and ass cheeks peeking from underneath.

Your hair curly and frizzy. Fresh face, black rimmed glasses and glossy mocha lips. You looked so adorable without even trying. And while you read through your literature book, it was purposefully forgotten as he stared at the side of your face. Placed under a trance by the sound of your voice. It was silky and sweet. unintentionally low and smooth like honey. In his mind, you were this small firecracker.

Always has an attitude and minds her own business. A slick mouth, bit of a temper, a brat, stubbornly annoying and cute all in one breath. You irritated him. Everytime you guys see each other it's nothing but lips smacking fun eyes rolling, insults, name calling and whatever else you could think of. You both bullied each other because you simply hated the fact that feelings were getting involved.

Neither of you wanted to admit it, acknowledged it, act upon it─ until, tonight, when you felt the light brush of his fingertips along your jaw. Your attention brought to the lustful glare in his eyes. Your own were hooded. lashes brushing along your cheeks. You try to resist. You try to resist the scent of his heartaching cologne, the warmth of his palm around your neck, fingers brushing past the back of your hair, and his thumb caressing between your cheek and bottom lip.

The intimacy of your faces were inches apart. And you, being a horny bitch, felt your thighs begin to squeeze, your heart racing, cheeks heating and lips parting. You wanted to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. Nothing that would make him think you didn't want this, because you did want this. You were just too hard headed, too stubborn to admit to him that he made you feel some type of way.

The many times he's tried to make advances to you, or would tease you to just get a reaction. He knew he had an effect on you, whether you liked to admit it or not. You both knew there was something there. You both knew the chemistry, the tension and connection was unmatched like no other. When he thought you wouldn't have given in, give him the slightest satisfaction, or an ounce of curiosity, you surprised him, yet again.

Those butterflies you once tried to avoid, swarmed in the moment your lips connected, colliding against one another deliberately slow, selfishly filled with greed and yearn. Neither of you dared detached from one another as he was mercifully willing to give it to you, no questions asked. Willing to make you understand how crazy you made him feel. How that slick mouth of yours always made him want to shut you up with a kiss on the lips. Willing to show you just how deep in the mud he was for you. He was willing to give you more if you'd just ask.

But... did you really need to say anything when everything was being pushed to the side just for him to be pulled on top of you, where your legs and arms wrapped around him and held him so close? Where his each of his hands were laid flat to the ground on either side of your head as you made out hungrily? Did you really need to say anything when your tongues were so far down his throat, moaning his name? Begging for him to touch your aching pussy? Nothing needed to be said right?

It was clear as day.

He wanted it just as badly as you did.

Somewhere in the deepest, darkest part of his mind he wanted to ravish you. Toxically possess every part of your beging, taint you, mark you, mold you in this whiny little sub of a brat just so he could tame you. So he could hear you become a whimpering moaning mess, whining for him to just ruin you till you crumbled to pieces, clenching your gummy, pink walls around his veiny dick while he fucked you into a oblivion, speaking of gibberish and other nonsense, until all you can feel is your legs shake like a leaf and body quiver in overwhelmed ecstacy, till you feel yourself near your climax, seeing nothing but stars, breathless and lightheaded, your ears deafening a little and your toes aching from the intense orgasm, until...all you both could hear was bated, heavy breathes and pants.

The sounds of skin slapping skin vanishes into slow gentle thrusts and his cock rutting into you until it slips from your leaking hole and dripping cum between your thighs and he's painting your folds.

Until he's knelt before you with a mischievous, maybe even a cocky smirk as he glares past your weak anatomy completely rendered at the mercy of him─ feeling nothing but lewd exhilaration.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[yessirplease69]

❝Above The Clouds & Among The Stars❞

Synopsis: Moments belonging to the relationship between you and your childhood friend, which has evolved over time. Caleb still believes that hiding his feelings from you is the most suitable choice.

✈ Content: caleb x fem reader, caleb headcanons, nsfw, explict sexual content, suggestive (mature content), drama, angst, fluff, reader being slow for not realizing how caleb is in love with her, caleb being so loving, caleb being possessive, reader is a virgin, the final part maybe happens just before the explosion?, there are many references that are found in the history of the game.

✈ Word Count: 4K

♫ Caleb playlist on Spotify: here.

a\n: ✎─ It's been so long since I posted here, finally college gave me a break. I wrote this while listening to ♫ Tinashe - Cold Sweat ♫ 50 Cent - Just a Lil Bit ♫ so you guys could say these songs were playing on the radio in the garage (spoiler lol). I feel like he would listen to songs like 50 Cent's, it really fits his style... Hope u enjoy it!

Caleb, during his high school years, is part of one of the senior classes and he has been assigned the role of class monitor for Physical Education. Although he is not in the same section as you, his role is incorporated into your core subjects, which means you encounter him more frequently in the gymnasium or in other sports areas. Occasionally, you bump into each other in the hallways, despite both of your schedules being different.

Caleb, who is always looking after you, ensures that you have all the necessary items for school, helping you choose the appropriate gym clothes for physical exercises and new supplies. This includes preparing breakfast for you and his Gran, washing an apple, and packaging it perfectly for you to take for a snack. He always wears a radiant smile on his face as he takes the strap of your bag to secure it on his left shoulder, since his right shoulder is occupied by his backpack. Caleb never allows you to take it back, as it is difficult to go against the strength of this man, who stands at 6 feet 3 inches tall, and you simply have to accept this, even if you grumble from the passenger seat of his car all the way to the school entrance.

Caleb, who has always been so affectionate only with you, is constantly touching your arms, back, cheeks, waist, and tenderly kissing your hands, even making random drawings on their palms while he is captivated by you as you excitedly share about your day. He is the type who loves physical touch and believes it creates a connection between souls because he loves you so deeply that it hurts, and this man feels that pain when he touches you. Most of the time, it is an innocent affection, and he just wants to have you close, as it is not possible to have more than that.

Caleb, who sees you growing physically and mentally with each passing day, becomes possessive and jealous of anyone who looks at you in a way that only he is allowed to. Every night before going to bed, you have conversations about boys, hoping to hear the same response come from his lips: "Don't trust those guys, pip-squeak. You still don't get how they can be mean and shady." However, with all the strength he has left, he tries to ignore it all and pretend that it does not affect him, especially since it should not interfere with your romantic or sexual life... Oh, in a rather convenient way, he will interfere with that.

Caleb, who has a toned and defined body since he exercises a lot to maintain it and prepare for when he becomes a fighter pilot in Deepspace Aviation. This boy is huge (in every sense), looks like a fridge with a chest and back as solid as iron, and he always fears breaking you when you are in his arms of pure muscle. It is inevitable not to notice teenage girls from different grades drooling when he is exposing his defined torso while walking out of the boy's locker room with the other guys. Your friends often ask you for his number, and you do not understand why you are making a sour face at them while a strange feeling hits you.

Caleb, who is naturally very skilled at winning plush toys from the claw machine. He has left his entire collection for you, however, it is still likely to find a single cute and fuzzy stuffed animal in his room, comfortably sitting on the dresser next to his bed. He always thinks of you whenever he looks at it.

Caleb, who is fucking other girls while thinking of you. It is obvious, he is an 18-year-old teenager in the process of development, and it is not possible to confront testosterone because he needs to satisfy the urges that puberty presented to him. However, he cannot remove you, your scent, or your beautiful body from his mind, and even less can he touch you as he desires because he is afraid of breaking the bond you both formed in childhood. Thus, releasing this carnal desire while he is burying his cock in some pussy out there is all he can do or imagine.

Caleb, who never walks around the house without a shirt on because he would not want to make you uncomfortable, and It is not necessary for Grandma to correct him for such a lack of manners, since his well-being is what matters most to him. But, on a weekend morning when the ladies of the house were still in bed, Caleb didn’t mind not having to put on anything right after he took a shower. Coincidentally, you had woken up quite early and caught him nearly naked in the kitchen preparing your favorite meal, with the poor boy displaying a surprised expression when you harshly told him to cover the visible marks left by feminine nails on his back. He never imagined that you had cultivated a feeling like jealousy before beginning to act roughly with him for the rest of the week.

Caleb, who splashes water on you while you are washing the dishes, and it is hard to explain at what moment the scenario turned into a war. The scene repeats when you are enjoying the summer by the pool, and the atmosphere shifts when Caleb ceases to laugh and gazes at you with a different intention in his eyes. You observe the dark-haired boy approaching, unaware that he is gripping the edge of the pool to contain the desire to kiss you.

Caleb, who maintains a very healthy routine at home and school, where you can always find him doing push-ups on the floor or running on the grass of the football field. You are seated in the bleachers with the girls when he notices your presence from miles away, and the way he flashes the purest smile while waving in your direction leaves you feeling confusingly irritated at the moment you see your friends fanning themselves and sighing loudly in unison like bitches in heat. You will blame him for making you feel this way or create reasons for it, using your anger to write unflattering things about him in your facade account book. This silly guy is completely oblivious to these details, you are ignoring him so that he follows you down the hallway, questioning what might have happened. Heaven, he is playing your game and blaming himself too, until you relent upon noticing his face marked by puppy-dog eyes.

Caleb, who is such a respectful boy, walking down the hallway and noticing that you had forgotten to close the bathroom door while you are showering. He is simply closing it slowly, intending to prevent you from being startled or thinking that he is a pervert. Not that he is not.

Caleb, who begins his training as a pilot at Skyhaven, makes a promise to take you to the clouds as soon as he returned home during his military leave. It was a summer afternoon when he wrapped his pinky finger around yours, and the casual conversation about the planes he mastered made you sigh with shining eyes. After all, who could be better than him to make you fly in the sky? Besides his incredible piloting skills and placing your safety first, this man has the power to manipulate gravity. If you were ever flying over Linkon City and were about to fall to the ground, he would use his abilities to maintain control and balance until landing. This man would never let you fall in life.

Caleb, who is automatically attracted to you and it does not require much effort on your part unlike other women. It seems that he becomes more enchanted when you compliment the delicious flavor of the meals he prepares. It is always a new achievement when you are humming and squinting your eyes with his food in your mouth. It means he is feeding you well, a task of the day completed.

Caleb, who allows you to sleep in his bed, with him, on rainy days with intense thunderstorms. You fall asleep together, your head resting on his chest as he holds you tightly while raindrops patter against the window. If he has an obligation the next morning, you will find breakfast laid out on the sheets along with a note that has a good morning message filled with childish and silly drawings. But if he does not have any other engagements, you will wake up to a kiss on your forehead or a teasing pinch on your cheek. Even when Caleb is away, he will leave the door to his room open just so you can rest there whenever you wish. You would not mention it, but you often spend more time in his room than in your own. His scent is everywhere, and when your nose detects it, only then do you feel comfortable enough to be lulled into sleep.

Caleb, who practices combat moves with you whenever he is home after being away for an extended period. Despite having become a Hunter, your fighting skills still need further refinement. And seriously, he is an excellent teacher, it is no surprise that he received praise during his time as a class monitor in high school. This man is calm and highly experienced, he will teach you each movement correctly, and as a diligent tutor, he will explain countless times, regardless of how many times you stumble and fall onto him until you successfully land a hit. You can feel the tension in his triceps as they constrict around your neck in a rear naked choke. "One wrong move and your enemy could end your life just like that." His breath caresses your neck, and he remains in that position for a few seconds as he analyzes how your body is reacting pressed against his. The grip becomes weaker, your blood circulation stabilizing, and there is an indication in your reaction that your oxygen has been lost, even though he did not apply much pressure to your neck. "Someone here needs to step it up, or else you're not getting any of Caleb's decorated cookies!"

Caleb, who tries not to look when you are doing a squat exercise in front of him, feels his cheeks flush pink every time your knees bend, presenting an indecent view of you. Fortunately, this man is very composed and will act as if nothing has happened, hence, you will see Caleb turning his head to another corner while he coughs awkwardly. He condemns himself for having such thoughts about you, and motivated by this fact, he feels the need to avoid you, using this justification in his mind to hang out with his friends instead. He needs a distraction. Yet there you are, calling him with a sweet and pleading voice, hoping to get help with your homework or to fix the bathroom socket so you can use it. How can he say no?

Caleb, who has no idea how he has made you feel attracted to him, your childhood friend, as you have labeled him. He has at least noticed how you hold your gaze on his violet eyes for a bit longer, the way your chest rises when your breathing becomes frantic, how your voice suddenly trembles, or how your body responds when he is too close. This charming individual is putting you in the palm of his hand; he does not tire of teasing you by pressing you against the refrigerator when he finds you wandering the kitchen late at night, solitary and restless, nibbling on something. Sometimes, it is not even intentional, you know, it is simply the seductive nature that Caleb possesses.

✈✈✈

The smell of gasoline mixed with grease is overwhelming and nearly clogs your nose as soon as you set foot in the large garage at home, the reason for the odor justified upon finding Caleb sitting in one of the old armchairs, deeply focused on fixing what appeared to be a car part. The radio is active on the Linkon City FM station, the device accompanying several tools scattered on the table. This place has been transformed into the man's personal space, as more airplane and car-related items are found on the shelves. Grandma and you now refer to it as Caleb's garage.

"Aren't you going to join us at the table for lunch?" Your voice is demanding as you lean half of your body against the doorframe, arms crossed while questioning the man, who does not look at you. His car is parked on the other side of the area, and you notice that the hood is open.

"Just give me a few more minutes and I'll finish up here." He finally responds to you, still immersed in the work that his hands are performing. The old white tank top that clings to his torso bears dark stains that reveal the product used, and your eyes complete their inspection of the mess displayed on Caleb's pants and across the skin of his arms.

"Busy playing with your toys, huh?" Feeling curious, you approach the Lamborghini to see what is demanding so much of the man's attention. A smile adorns his lips, and you hear a low laugh resonating in the Caleb's throat. He leans forward, rifling through the box on the floor filled with equipment. 

"Aaand... clean girls can’t come in here." Caleb studies you from head to toe for a moment, the tease playing on his lips with a smile, which broadens when he sees you roll your eyes.

"Before I leave, I'm telling you not to touch me with that dirty hand, Caleb." Your teasing retorts against him. "Go take a shower before sitting at the table, 'kay?"

"C'omon. My hand isn't even dirty, bossy brat." The tip of his boot hits the floor, driven by the beat of the music that starts playing from the device. He is moving the toolbox aside after grabbing what he wanted. "I'm gonna do a test and jump on your bed to stain your pretty white sheets."

"Pfft! You." One of your fingers is pointing towards his serene smile, which conceals all the little mischiefs. You watch him twirl a heavy object between his fingers, disregarding how you have placed your hands on your hips while gazing deeply at him.

"Stay away from the sharp tools, I'm telling you too for the twentieth time this week." He makes it very clear to you, despite not giving a firm look to affirm his words. Caleb do not want to witness the scene of you slipping in the puddle of gasoline that had formed on the floor and hitting your head against one of the saws and axes attached to the wall.

And, oh, you are doing everything except listening to him. That is why he feels you are about to do something reckless as your hand approaches the sharp edge of the object. Before the tip of your finger fully touched it, an unnatural force exerted itself upon your palm, pushing it away. You shot a piercing glance at the man seated, intending for it to penetrate him like the blade you were willing to touch.

"You're so stubborn." Caleb is staring at you, remarkably calm, the fringe of his hair falling over his eyes like a waterfall. His lips are curved in frustration as he holds an open hand in the air. His Evol is still controlling you, the vibration of that power surrounding your skin due to gravity.

"Why are you like this?! I can totally resonate with that!"

"Your powers aren't strong enough for that yet, pip-squeak." You can hear the sound of his sigh, and he is prepared to dismiss any complaints you may have. "I'm just protecting you from your own innocence. It's for your own good."

"I don't need your protection." The conviction carries your voice like a powerful weapon. And you are aiming it at him, more than ever as that manipulative pressure finally releases from your hand. Caleb was gentle in using just a little strength, with no intention of hurting you.

"You don't need it?" The way Caleb has spoken so sarcastically yet with a certain conviction has left you immobilzed in place, and he was no longer using his power over you. There is a feeling of rage consuming you as you clench your fists and grind your teeth at finding him so perplexed by your behavior.

"Yeah, I'm done." Your breath quickens as you take rapid, unexpected steps toward the man. He watches your movements intently until you push his shoulders, and his back is hitting the upholstery. Strands of hair on Caleb's forehead are ruffled by the impact, and his face bears a tightly clenched jaw as he watches, frozen, while you ascend onto the chair and rest your knees on either side of his thighs.

You need not check to know that your clothing has been ruined by a bit of grease. However, the thought quickly disappears when you are approached by Caleb's fixed gaze, the overhead perspective providing a perfect angle to see the top of his chest escaping from his tank top. The shiny necklace you gave him glistens in contrast to the light, and your attempt to divert your gaze toward it proves futile.

"I don't need you treating me like a kid. Not anyone." Your mouth commands your attitude, and the dark-haired man follows each of its movements. You appear too serious, which influences his features as he raises his chin in a sign of dominance. "You idiot."

"Watch you mouth." He is reprimanding you, his tone of voice shifting to a deeper harmony. His occupied hand releases the metal piece into the air, and it makes a violent noise when it hits the ground. Suddenly, you notice his eyes darken as he closely scrutinizes your reaction, and now his fingers are pressing against your wrists. You cannot just sit on him like that, in that position, like it's no big deal. "Don't you know how to treat your elders right anymore, brat?"

"Stop!" You spit, attempting not to show your vulnerable side whenever you are around him. "Is that all I mean to you, yeah? Just a helpless brat. "For a moment, your heart aches with guilt for behaving insensitively while you find so much love in his warm gaze directed at you. This is further compounded by a small streak of black grease on his cheek, which makes him even more endearing.

"Hey silly girl, what are you talking about?" A laugh escapes his lips, and you are unsure if it was meant to sound innocent or somewhat foolish coming from him. However, as a habit, this man tries to lighten the mood of the situation, even when it leaves you feeling awkward. He wonders why on earth you have been so rude to him lately. He understands this whole independence thing you are going through, but he is beginning to lose the patience that has remained intact for years. After all, he has always done everything for you, indulging you with good things and ensuring your protection, yet you repay him in this manner.

"You don’t know?!" The walls tremble as you laugh ironically, the closeness of your faces does not intimidate him. "I hate... how you still see me as your little girl, and not as a woman." You hiss when you realize that you spoke those words too loudly, and you are failing to remove his hands from your skin, which are beginning to burn your very being.

"What?!" He cannot help but shake his head, incredulous at your words. Your breathless breaths are intertwined in the space, which suddenly becomes suffocating.

You look so beautiful sitting on his lap, that he thinks he could get used to the view. Caleb is clenching his fist tightly against the seat, trying to prevent himself from touching the accessible and more sinful areas of your body on top of him.

"Do you want me to show you how I can see you as a woman?"

There is a silence enveloping you and him, but the beat of the music becomes increasingly captivating in the background. You are still recovering from the weight of the double entendre posed to you. A tension saturates the air in more palpable forms, Caleb's gaze appearing indecisive between your enticing lips and the way your beautiful tits move as your breathing grows irregular. The manner in which his violet eyes encompass your entire body is so alluring, and you find yourself questioning why you had not noticed this much earlier.

"Yes." The whisper slips from your lips almost like a secret, yet you show no fear of proving the consequences of your bold action. You are venturing into uncharted territory, tampering with danger. The boy growls sensually in response, a primal sound that reveals the how much he desires you as a woman.

He believes he can no longer endure hiding all these feelings any longer, and this man swears by his soul that if it were not for his self-control, he would throw you beneath him into that old armchair and position you to make love to him. He would not release your wrists while possessing you as his own. Caleb imagines how he would start to move his hips in a slow and tender way, just as a princess like you deserves, but then he would take you with such brutality, and you would accept him, his size, so perfectly inside you. The noise of the slaps on your ass and the sounds of wet sex would be louder than the music playing in the room. And he would keep repeatedly going in and out even if Grandma upstairs was disturbed by the depraved noises coming from your mouth. This man would make you scream in that garage until the sun sets, depending on your cardio endurance. It is okay, he has been letting you scream all the time with him lately, so it is only fair to leave you voiceless.

"Please." Your pleas are persistent, the throbbing pain in the center of your legs making your hips roll almost automatically and slowly on his groin. And it was possible to watch Caleb flying to the sky and seeing stars while he releases your wrists to grip your waist, commanding you to stop these movements. Because his big cock is hard right under you, Jesus. He would go crazy in this place and would take you to sin with him, a single slip could change everything. What would you think of him after this fateful decision? Your sweet purity going down the drain like this...

Caleb is thinking about how you are still not ready, watching you gazing innocently at him, unaware of the many desires and darker thoughts hidden within those purple orbs. You would not be able to handle all the things he wishes to do with you. Therefore, all he does at this moment is close his eyes tightly and take a deep breath in unison.

"No." His raspy tone conveys much about his arduous battle against these desires thus far. Your eyes instinctively close when his lips draw near, you emit a soft moan as you feel them brush against yours. The man is aware that once he begins to kiss you, he would be unable to stop. It is a torment to realize that you are unprepared to be wholly his, in body and soul. He requires you to have conviction in your actions before engaging in any recklessness, as both of you must be ready for that.

Then the place becomes cold as he crawls out of the seat, silently distancing himself from you while wearing a sad countenance. His eyes convey loneliness and melancholy, even as he closes the door behind him. You notice that your skin has been marked by the grease and his hands, it may take some time for you to forget the feeling of them on your body.

[zeroseuniverse]

Mean?

Word Count:518 Summary: She rolled her eyes. “You’re practically glued to me.” He smirked. “It’s not my fault you’re a great pillow. Pairing: Jeongin X Fem Reader

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The late-night movie marathon had turned into a cozy cuddle session on the couch, though neither of them would admit it outright. The room was dimly lit by the TV’s soft glow, and the blankets draped over the two of them made it feel like their own little world. Jeongin was leaning back against the armrest, while she sat cross-legged on the other side, pretending to be engrossed in the rom-com playing on the screen.

The problem? Jeongin had slowly inched closer to her over the last hour. Now, his arm was draped casually behind her on the couch, and he’d somehow managed to pull her closer under the guise of “getting comfortable.”

“You okay over there?” she asked, raising a brow but not moving away.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jeongin shot back, feigning innocence. “This is peak comfort.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re practically glued to me.”

He smirked. “It’s not my fault you’re a great pillow.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here you are,” he teased, nudging her side.

She huffed, trying to ignore the way her heart fluttered. “Can you just move over?”

Jeongin gave her a dramatic pout, looking genuinely hurt. “Why would I do that? It’s nice here.”

“Jeongin,” she groaned, trying to sound exasperated. “You’re literally holding me.”

His eyes widened, an exaggerated gasp leaving his lips. “You’re holding me, you idiot.”

She stared at him, dumbfounded. “I am not!”

He gestured to her hands, which had somehow ended up gripping the edge of his hoodie. She hadn’t even realized she’d done it. “So mean,” he mumbled, shaking his head like she had mortally wounded him.

She tried to let go, but he caught her hands in his before she could. His touch was warm, his grip firm but gentle. He glanced down at their intertwined fingers and then up at her, his teasing smirk softening into something more sincere.

“I love you,” she blurted, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Her heart immediately leapt into her throat.

Jeongin froze for a moment, his eyes widening, and then—he grinned. A slow, boyish grin that lit up his entire face. “Oh, so you finally admit it.”

Her cheeks burned. “Shut up,” She muttered, looking away, but he squeezed her hands to keep her attention.

“I love you too, you know,” he said softly, his teasing tone gone. “Even when you’re mean.”

She glanced back at him, meeting his warm gaze, and felt her defenses crumble. “I’m not mean,” She whispered, though her voice lacked any real conviction.

Jeongin laughed, leaning in closer until their foreheads nearly touched. “Fine. You’re not mean. You’re perfect.”

She rolled her eyes again, but this time, she couldn’t fight the smile tugging at her lips. “You’re such an idiot.”

“And yet, you love me,” he teased, his grin widening.

“Unfortunately,” She replied, but her laugh betrayed the truth.

Jeongin pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her completely this time. The movie played on in the background, forgotten, as the two of them settled into the comfort of finally admitting what had been true all along.

[lila-lou]

✨Taking her in - Pt. 18✨

Summary: After Dean Winchester saves your life, he brings you into the safety of the bunker. As you grow older and stronger, Dean refuses to let you join the hunts, his overprotective behavior intensifying. But beneath his fierce protectiveness lies something darker—conflicted feelings he can’t face. As your 18th birthday approaches, Dean struggles to keep control, torn between his duty to protect you and emotions he’s buried for too long.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! (saftey first, no Smut tho), kinda kinky i guess, hormones, HUGE Age Gap, Immoral, Language

Word Count: 5119

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💜

As the intensity of the moment began to ebb, you instinctively started to shift, ready to pull away and give him space to recover. But before you could move, Dean’s good hand slid to your waist, his fingers pressing gently to stop you.

“Not yet”, he murmured, his voice low and rough from exertion. His green eyes were soft, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as he looked up at you. “Just… let me enjoy the view for a few more minutes”.

Dean’s lazy smirk deepened as he caught the way your cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of pink, your gaze flicking shyly to the side. The vulnerability in your reaction, paired with the soft rise and fall of your chest as you caught your breath, was enough to send a wave of heat coursing through him.

Inside you, he twitched, the sensation making your breath hitch. His good hand tightened slightly on your waist, his thumb brushing soothing circles against your skin. “Sweetheart”, he murmured, his voice low and teasing, though tinged with exhaustion, “if you keep looking that adorable, we might have a problem”.

Dean’s smirk softened as he watched you hide your face behind your hands, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. You mumbled something incoherent, but he didn’t need to hear the words to know what you were thinking. The way you tried to shrink away, the shy way you moved—it was all so inherently you, and it drove him absolutely wild.

For Dean, your innocence, your vulnerability, was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. It wasn’t just the physical side of things, though that certainly stirred something primal in him. It was the emotional weight of it, the knowledge that you trusted him completely, that he was the only man who had ever been allowed to see you like this, to touch you, to be with you. Knowing he was the only one who had ever been inside you, the only one who had ever felt how tight and perfect you were—it was intoxicating.

His fingers brushed over your hip, his grip firm but gentle as he tried to keep himself grounded. It wasn’t easy. Every instinct, every deep, primal part of him wanted to pull you underneath him, to claim you completely, to make sure you knew exactly how much he wanted you, needed you.

But he held back, because you deserved more than that. You deserved care and patience, and Dean wanted to give that to you, no matter how hard it was to resist the fire burning inside him.

Dean’s grip on your hip tightened ever so slightly as he whispered, his voice barely above a breath but filled with so much raw emotion it made your chest ache. “God, I love you”.

The words were like a spark, igniting something deep within you. Before you could respond, his good hand gently cupped the back of your neck, pulling you down toward him. Your hands fell from your face as his lips met yours, soft but insistent. The kiss was slow, unhurried, yet brimming with unspoken passion, as if he was trying to show you just how much you meant to him in every brush of his lips against yours.

You felt his body shift slightly beneath you, his warmth seeping into your skin as his grip steadied you. The connection between you was so intense it made your head spin, and then you became acutely aware of him—the way he was growing harder inside you, pressing deeper as he adjusted ever so slightly. The sensation made your breath catch, your body tensing for a moment before you melted against him.

Dean pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged.

His forehead remained pressed against yours, his warm breath mingling with your own as he shifted slightly beneath you. You noticed his wince, and before you could ask, he reached out toward the bedside table with his good hand, fumbling for the bottle of painkillers. His movements were clumsy and strained, and you instinctively moved to help him, grabbing the bottle and pressing it into his hand.

“Thanks”, he murmured, his voice rough but full of affection. He popped the cap open with one hand, shaking two pills into his palm and tossing them into his mouth. He swallowed them dry, his throat working hard to force them down, before setting the bottle aside and leaning back against the pillow.

Dean’s hand returned to your hip, his fingers tightening slightly as he shifted beneath you again, pressing you flush against him. His body trembled faintly, his jaw tightening as a mix of pleasure and pain flashed across his features. His green eyes found yours, dark with a raw, unrelenting need that made your breath hitch.

“Painkillers’ll kick in soon”, he muttered, his voice low and strained. “But I’m sure as hell not waiting”. He guided your hips down with a firm but gentle pressure, encouraging you to take him fully once more. The intensity in his gaze left no doubt—he wanted this, no matter how much his chest ached.

Your breath hitched at the sensation of him pressing fully inside you, his hand firm on your hip as he silently conveyed exactly what he wanted. The look in his eyes was enough to set your heart racing—a mixture of raw need and unshakable affection that made it impossible to resist. Despite the lingering self-consciousness gnawing at you, the thought of letting him down spurred you into motion.

You bit your lip, your cheeks flushing as you started to move your hips slowly, tentatively. The feeling was overwhelming, the stretch and fullness making you tremble as you tried to find a rhythm. Dean’s groan, low and rumbling, sent a shiver through your body, his hand tightening on your hip as if encouraging you to keep going.

“That’s it”, he rasped, his voice thick with both strain and pleasure. “Just like that, sweetheart. You’re doing so good”.

A few days later, Dean’s injuries were starting to look better, though the healing process was slow. Sam had to redo a few stitches on his chest the day after your night together, muttering something about “damn stubborn idiots” under his breath as he worked. But now, the bleeding had finally stopped, and while Dean’s chest still looked angry and raw, the wounds were starting to close. His broken arm was firmly secured in a sling, and the swelling in his fingers had gone down slightly, though his strength hadn’t fully returned.

Dean, however, wasn’t exactly bouncing back. He was still weak, his body trembling if he stood for too long. Worse, he’d barely eaten over the past few days, a concerning departure from his usual “shovel anything in sight” appetite. The mix of pain meds and antibiotics had clearly taken a toll on him, dulling his hunger and leaving him uncharacteristically tired.

Now, he was sitting in the bunker’s library, slouched slightly in his chair with his broken arm cradled against his side. His good hand flipped idly through the pages of an old lore book, but it was clear he wasn’t fully focused. His brow was furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at the text, though his eyes flicked occasionally where Sam sat at the opposite side of the table.

Sam glanced up from his book, breaking the silence in the library as he leaned back in his chair. “Where’s she at?”, he asked casually, his tone curious but not particularly pressing. “Haven’t seen her around”.

Dean froze for a moment, his eyes lingering on the page in front of him without actually reading it. His jaw tightened slightly before he finally muttered, “She’s out. Running errands or something”.

Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean’s vague response, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smirk. “Errands?”, he echoed, clearly unconvinced. “What kind of errands?”.

Dean sighed, his good hand scrubbing over his face as he tried to come up with a better answer. But the memory of your flustered face from earlier that morning flashed through his mind, making him bite the inside of his cheek to stop the grin threatening to form.

“She went to grab some snacks or whatever”, Dean said, his voice gruff as he avoided Sam’s gaze. “Nothing major”.

Sam wasn’t buying it. He tilted his head, his smirk growing as he studied Dean. “You’re acting weird”, he said, clearly enjoying how flustered Dean was getting. “Did you two have a fight or something?”.

Dean scoffed, shaking his head. “No, we didn’t have a fight”, he said, though the defensive edge in his voice made Sam’s smirk widen. “She’s fine. I’m fine. Drop it”.

What Dean didn’t mention—and wouldn’t, unless absolutely necessary—was the conversation from that morning. He’d tried to convince you to take a bath with him, the idea of relaxing together sounding perfect in his mind. But you’d been unusually hesitant, deflecting his suggestion and making excuses until he finally asked outright what was going on.

Your face had turned beet red as you muttered the truth, so quietly he almost didn’t catch it. “I’m on my period, Dean”.

At first, he’d just blinked at you, his brain catching up to your words before a teasing grin spread across his face. “That’s it?”, he’d asked, clearly amused. “Sweetheart, that’s nothing. We can still—”.

“No, Dean”, you’d interrupted firmly, your cheeks still burning. “Just… no”.

The memory of your embarrassment made him smile faintly now, even as Sam continued to press him for answers. “What’s so funny?”, Sam asked, narrowing his eyes at Dean’s reaction.

“Nothing”, Dean muttered, flipping a page in his book. “Just thinking”.

Sam rolled his eyes but didn’t push further, letting the subject drop—for now.

A little while later, the sound of the bunker door opening echoed down the hall, followed by the familiar shuffle of your footsteps. Dean’s head snapped up immediately, his green eyes locking onto the library door as you stepped in, carrying a bag of snacks.

“There you are”, Dean said, a grin spreading across his face as he leaned back in his chair. “Took you long enough. Please tell me you got pie”.

You rolled your eyes at Dean’s immediate comment, though a flicker of guilt crossed your face as you set the bag of snacks down on the library table. “Dean”, you said softly, your tone tinged with both concern and frustration, “you can’t just live off pie”.

Dean shrugged, leaning back in his chair as though his argument was irrefutable. “Why not? It’s got everything I need. Fruit, sugar, carbs—basically a full meal”.

Sam snorted from across the table, closing his book with a thud. “Pretty sure that’s not how nutrition works, Dean”.

You shot Sam a grateful look before turning your attention back to Dean. But something about the way he looked—pale, tired, stubbornly defiant—made your chest tighten. Normally, you’d let it go with a sigh or an eye roll, but your hormones were wreaking havoc on you this time around, and you could feel tears welling up in your eyes before you could stop them.

“Dean, you’re not eating enough”, you blurted, your voice shaking slightly as you stepped closer to him. “You’re already weak, and you’re barely standing half the time. Do you even realize how worried I’ve been? How scared—”.

The tears spilled over before you could finish, and you quickly turned away, swiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand. You weren’t usually this emotional, but the hormonal chaos of your period had turned you into a walking mess of feelings. On top of that, the stress of watching Dean push himself too hard while refusing to take care of himself was enough to send you spiraling.

Both Sam and Dean froze as your voice cracked, their eyes widening in surprise at the sudden shift in your tone. Sam exchanged a glance with Dean, his eyebrows raised as if silently asking, What the hell just happened?

Dean, however, looked like he was caught completely off guard. His good hand rested awkwardly on the armrest of his chair, and he blinked at you as if unsure how to react. “Uh”, he started, clearly fumbling for words, “you’re crying over pie?”.

The moment the words left his mouth, you turned sharply, your tear-streaked face blazing with a mixture of anger and disbelief. “Are you kidding me, Dean?”, you snapped, your voice rising. “I’m not crying over pie, you absolute moron!”.

Dean’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. His usual quick wit failed him entirely as you glared at him, your emotions surging like a tidal wave. “I’m crying because you’re being a stubborn, reckless idiot who doesn’t care about himself or the people who care about him!”, you shouted, your voice trembling as fresh tears streamed down your face. “You’re barely eating, you’re not resting, and you think this is all a joke!”.

Sam leaned back slightly in his chair, his hands raised in a silent gesture of surrender as if to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. “I think I’ll, uh… let you two handle this”, he muttered, standing up.

"No!”, you shouted, spinning on your heel to glare at Sam, who froze mid-step, clearly caught off guard. “You don’t get to just walk away from this, Sam!”. Your voice wavered with a mix of anger and frustration, but there was no mistaking the intensity in your tone. “You’re his brother! How can you just sit there and let him act like this? You should be holding him down, making sure he takes care of himself—not letting him get away with being so damn reckless!”.

Sam blinked, his mouth opening slightly as if to respond, but you didn’t give him the chance. “He listens to you, Sam. Or at least, he should. You’ve been through enough with him to know what happens when he keeps pushing himself like this. Why aren’t you doing anything?”.

Dean, still seated behind you, let out a low groan, his head falling back against the chair. “Oh, come on”, he muttered. “Now you’re mad at him? It’s not his fault I’m a pain in the ass”.

You turned back to Dean, your hands flying to your hips as you narrowed your eyes at him. “This is absolutely about you being a pain in the ass, but Sam isn’t off the hook either. You’re his brother, and he should know better!”.

Sam raised his hands defensively, his voice cautious as he tried to defuse the situation. “Okay, hold on”, he said, his tone calm but firm. “I do know better, and trust me, I’ve tried. You know how stubborn he is—it’s like talking to a wall sometimes. But it’s not like I don’t care. I’m worried about him too”.

Dean’s voice cut through your tirade with a sharpness that made you freeze. “Calm down!”, he barked, his tone more authoritative than you’d heard in a long time. His green eyes locked onto yours, frustration flashing behind them as he leaned slightly forward in his chair. “Since when does your period turn you into such a damn little brat?”.

The words hung in the air like a bomb that had just gone off.

Your mouth fell open, completely stunned, and Sam immediately winced, his hand flying up to rub the back of his neck as he took an instinctive step back. “Oh no”, Sam muttered under his breath, clearly wanting no part of what was about to happen.

Dean’s gaze flicked between you and Sam, as if realizing the weight of what he’d just said. “What?”, he muttered, almost defensively, though his voice was already losing steam. “I’m just saying, you’re usually not this…”.

“What?”, you hissed, cutting him off. Your voice was low, dangerously calm, and your eyebrow arched as you took a slow step toward him. “Did you just call me a brat because I’m on my period?”.

Sam’s eyes widened as he began inching toward the door, clearly sensing the storm brewing. “I’ll, uh… I’ll leave you two to this”, he muttered, slipping out as quickly and quietly as possible.

Dean, to his credit—or maybe stupidity—didn’t back down, though you could see a flicker of regret in his expression. “That’s not what I meant”, he said quickly, his voice softening as he raised his good hand in a placating gesture. “I just… you’re all over the place, sweetheart. One second you’re yelling at me, then you’re crying, and now—”.

“Dean”, you interrupted, your voice still calm but with an edge sharp enough to cut steel. “You better stop talking before you dig yourself an even bigger hole”.

Dean’s mouth opened as if to argue, but then he closed it again, his gaze dropping to the table. For a moment, the room was silent, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating. Finally, he let out a long, exasperated sigh, running his good hand through his hair.

“Alright, I’m sorry”, he muttered, his tone genuine despite the awkward delivery. He looked up at you, his green eyes softer now, tinged with a hint of guilt. “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re not a brat. You’re just… worried. And you’ve got every right to be”.

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at him. “Damn right, I do”, you said firmly, though your voice had lost some of its earlier fire.

Dean shifted in his seat, his broken arm cradled awkwardly against his side. “Look, I’m not great at this whole ‘talking about feelings’ thing”, he admitted, his voice gruff. “But I know you’re just trying to take care of me. And I appreciate it, okay? Even if I’m a stubborn pain in the ass”.

You softened slightly at his words, the tension in your shoulders easing just a bit. “You are a pain in the ass”, you muttered, though your tone was lighter now.

Dean smirked faintly, his good hand reaching out to gently tug you closer. “Yeah, but you love me anyway”, he said, his voice low and teasing, though there was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “Right?”.

You sighed, shaking your head as you allowed yourself to be pulled closer. “Unfortunately for me”, you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

Dean’s smirk widened, and his thumb brushed over your hand. “See? We’re good. Now come here and sit down before you yell at me again”.

You rolled your eyes but let him guide you to the chair beside him, the tension between you slowly dissolving. For all his stubbornness and occasional idiotic comments, Dean knew how to make things right—eventually.

You sighed, settling into the chair beside Dean and letting your shoulders slump slightly. The intensity of the moment was fading, leaving you feeling embarrassed by your earlier outburst. You glanced at him, chewing your bottom lip before muttering, “I’m sorry”.

You hesitated for a moment, staring at the table as you toyed with a stray thread on your shirt. “I didn’t mean to get so dramatic”, you admitted quietly. “I… It’s just… the birth control, I think. It’s messing with my hormones or something”.

Dean’s expression softened, the lines of frustration and exhaustion smoothing into something far gentler. He reached out with his good hand, resting it lightly on your arm. “Hey”, he said, his voice calm and reassuring. “You don’t need to apologize for that. It’s not like you’re doing it on purpose”.

You looked up at him, a flicker of relief crossing your face at his understanding tone. “I just hate feeling like this”, you said, your voice trembling slightly. “Like I’m all over the place. I’m not usually like this, you know? And then there’s you, not eating, not taking care of yourself, and it just… it’s too much”.

Dean’s hand tightened slightly on your arm, his thumb brushing small, soothing circles over your skin. “Sweetheart”, he said softly, “it’s okay. I get it. And you’ve got every right to feel the way you do. Hell, if I were in your shoes, I’d probably be yelling at me too”.

That brought a small, reluctant smile to your lips, and Dean smirked in response, the corner of his mouth quirking upward in that familiar way that always made your heart skip a beat.

“Look”, he continued, his tone more serious now. “I know I’ve been a stubborn jackass, but I’ll try, okay? I’ll eat something. Even if it’s not pie. And I’ll take it easy”. His eyes searched yours, a flicker of guilt lingering in their depths. “I don’t like seeing you upset”.

You felt a lump rise in your throat at his words, and you nodded, swallowing hard. “Thank you”, you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Dean leaned back slightly, his smirk returning as he gave your arm a gentle squeeze. “But just so you know”, he added, his tone teasing now, “pie’s still the best part of any meal”.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile widened as you swatted at his arm lightly. “You’re impossible”.

Dean chuckled, the sound warm and genuine, and for the first time in days, you felt a sense of calm settle over you.

The rest of the day passed in relative peace, though it was clear both Winchester brothers were treading carefully around you. Dean, stubborn as he was, had actually eaten something—granted, it was more pie, but progress was progress. Meanwhile, Sam buried himself in research for a new case, his brow furrowed in concentration as he flipped through old lore books.

You, on the other hand, were completely absorbed in your own little world. Lounged in one of the bunker’s oversized chairs, you balanced a tub of cookie dough ice cream in your lap, periodically dipping chips into it. Your headphones were snug over your ears, blocking out everything but the show playing on your tablet. You were content, happily distracted by Netflix and your unusual snack combination.

Dean, sitting at the table with Sam, glanced over at you with a smirk tugging at his lips. He leaned closer to his brother, his voice low but still carrying a teasing edge. “Man”, he murmured, nodding toward you. “If she’s this moody from just the pill, I better never get her pregnant”.

Sam, who had been immersed in a book, snorted in surprise before letting out a laugh. He shook his head, his amusement clear as he shot Dean a knowing look. “Not for at least the next five years, Dean”, he said, his tone playful but firm. “She’s way too young for that”.

Dean turned to glare at his brother, though there wasn’t much heat behind it. “What’s that supposed to mean?”, he muttered, his voice defensive.

Sam shrugged, leaning back in his chair as he raised an eyebrow at Dean. “You wouldn’t just throw that out there unless you’ve been thinking about it”, he pointed out, his smirk widening. “I know you, Dean. That joke didn’t come from nowhere”.

Dean’s face reddened slightly, and he looked away, clearly annoyed at being called out. “Whatever”, he grumbled, focusing back on his book, though you could see the way his jaw tightened.

Meanwhile, oblivious to the quiet exchange, you scooped up another bite of ice cream with a chip, completely engrossed in your show. If you’d heard what they were talking about, you might’ve dropped your ice cream altogether.

Sam chuckled to himself, clearly pleased with how much he’d riled Dean up. “Just saying”, he added lightly, flipping a page in his book. “You’ve got time. No rush”.

Dean rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, well”, he muttered, his voice low and a little gruff, “it’s not like I’m ever gonna have kids anyway. This life? It’s not exactly family-friendly”.

Sam glanced up from his book, his expression softening as he studied his brother. “You don’t know that”, he said, his voice thoughtful. “Maybe someday things’ll change. You could have a family, Dean. A real shot at being happy”.

Dean snorted, shaking his head. “C’mon, Sam. Let’s be real. I’ve got a messed-up past, demons on speed dial, and about a hundred other reasons why that’s never gonna happen. Not exactly a picket-fence kind of guy. And you´re neither”.

Sam leaned back in his chair, resting his elbows on the armrests as he gave Dean a measured look. “You say that now”, he said carefully, “but I’ve been thinking… I don’t want to do this forever either. Maybe in a few years, I’ll settle down. Find a way to live a quieter life. Hell, I’ve always wanted kids”.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Little Sam Juniors running around? Hope they come with a manual, Sammy, ’cause I don’t see you handling diaper duty”.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m serious, Dean. I want a life outside of this—something more. Don’t you?”.

Dean’s smirk faltered slightly, his eyes flicking toward you lounging in the chair with your headphones on. For a brief moment, something unspoken passed over his face—a flicker of what-ifs and maybes—but he quickly masked it with a shrug. “I don’t know, man”, he said, his voice quieter. “Maybe for you. You’d be good at it”.

Sam tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched his brother. “You say that like it’s not possible for you too”.

Dean huffed a humorless laugh, reaching for the cup of coffee on the table. “Let’s just focus on the case, alright?”, he said, effectively changing the subject.

Sam didn’t push, though his thoughtful expression lingered. It was clear he wasn’t done with the conversation, but for now, he let it slide, returning to his research. Dean’s eyes drifted back to you, his features softening despite the gruff exterior he was trying to maintain.

Dean’s mind kept drifting, no matter how much he tried to focus on the book in front of him. He knew he was being ridiculous—you were too young to be having conversations about kids, and the two of you were still in the early stages of your relationship. It wasn’t the time, and he wasn’t the guy to even entertain that kind of future… or so he thought.

But the thought of you, your small, delicate frame carrying something so undeniably his, wouldn’t leave him. It stirred something deep in him—something primal and possessive, something that made his chest tighten and his body react in ways he hadn’t expected. The idea of you glowing, rounded with his child, hit him harder than he wanted to admit, and he cursed himself as he felt the heat pooling low in his abdomen.

Dean shifted in his chair, trying to will the reaction away, but it was no use. His jeans felt tighter, and the book in front of him suddenly seemed like the least interesting thing in the world. He clenched his jaw, leaning back slightly as if the change in position would somehow help. It didn’t.

He glanced at you, still curled up in the chair with your tablet and snacks, completely oblivious to the chaos you’d inadvertently caused in his head. Your face was relaxed, your small movements as you shifted and dipped chips into ice cream so natural and unguarded. It wasn’t like you were trying to do anything to him—you were just being you. And that made it even harder to ignore.

Get it together, Dean, he scolded himself silently, dragging a hand down his face. But the idea of you pregnant—his baby growing inside you, proof of the love you shared—sent another wave of heat through him. It wasn’t just physical; it was deeper, more profound. The thought scared the hell out of him, but it also stirred something he couldn’t deny.

He shifted again, letting out a frustrated sigh that caught Sam’s attention. “You alright?”m Sam asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked up from his research.

Dean nodded quickly, his voice a little strained. “Yeah, just stiff from sitting too long”, he lied, leaning forward and propping his elbow on the table as if that would somehow disguise his discomfort.

Sam gave him a skeptical look but didn’t press, returning to his book with a shrug. Dean glanced back at you once more, letting out a slow, steady breath. He had to get a grip. There was no way he could explain what was going on in his head right now without embarrassing himself—and probably scaring the hell out of you.

Still, as he shifted his focus back to the book, the thought lingered, stubbornly refusing to leave.

Eventually, you stood up from your chair, stretching your legs after sitting for so long. With your tub of ice cream in one hand and your tablet tucked under your arm, you made your way awkwardly toward the kitchen. The cramps were starting to kick in again, and you figured a hot water bottle would help. Dean watched you leave, his eyes trailing after you like a magnet.

The tension in his body hadn’t eased since the thoughts of you and the idea of a family had crept into his head. He told himself to stay put, to let it go, but his legs had other plans. Quietly, he got up, cradling his broken arm against his chest as he followed you down the hall.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @ladykitana90 @fullbelieverheart @chainsawsangel @zaratahir @rebecca-hvnstn @maackiimoo @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @lachelledavies-winchester @kamisobsessed @kr804573 @c1gs-coffee @fyegyall

@lilbloggs @emily-winchester @star-yawnznn @noell666 @averagedenjienjoyer0290 @impala67rollingthroughtown @stellamagicmoon

[sillyuin]

Have you seen my cat?

Genre: fluff, meet cute.

Pairing: Minghao x reader.

Yuin's note: I would love to write and develop this idea further but idk, let me know what you think.

It had already been more than three days since the last time you knew anything about him. The apartment felt strange even though all your things were in the same place, but he wasn’t there, and you were already starting to notice the difference.

You sighed deeply, sinking into the living room couch and staring at the horizon through the window in front of you. The tall buildings partially blocked the sunset, while you, in the same way, felt like you were fading away. That gloomy feeling stayed with you until you went to sleep.

The next morning, you got up with new strength and decided to look after him, it didn't even matter that you didn't know where to start your searching. After a routine workday at the office, you returned with the search for his whereabouts. However, just like the previous days, there were no results.

Head down, you took a seat in the outside garden of some house, and as you watched the sunset of the fourth day without him, thick tears filled your eyes and you didn't bother holding them back. But then, a voice interrupted your thoughts.

That person cleared their throat. “Good afternoon, do you need anything?”

You jumped in your seat and tried to dry your tears. “I’m sorry, I just… I was tired.”

You looked up with a certain fear, thinking you’d meet the angry face of some man annoyed that a stranger was sitting in his property. However, you found a young man standing next to you, his face glowing with curiosity and innocence. For a moment, he reminded you of him…

 “I don’t want to bother you, but…” his voice was calm and gentle, “if you need help, you can tell me, and I’ll see what I can do for you.”

He extended his hand toward you and offered a friendly smile before introducing himself. “My name is Xu Minghao, and I’m the owner of this nursery.”

You shook his hand and after saying your name in a whisper, you glanced toward the house behind you and your eyes couldn’t believe how such a beautiful garden had gone unnoticed by you.

Despite being your first time appreciating that magical place, you’d already heard his name (apparently quite popular in the small town) mentioned by your coworkers, as the couldn’t stop talking about the handsome young man who ran the old nursery a few blocks away, caring for the plants as if they were his own family.

But it wasn’t just his elegant demeanor or the way he smiled—there was something else that left you speechless and for a moment, he made you forget your intrusive thoughts. But it was only for a very brief moment…

You stood up and took a deep breath to calm yourself. “Excuse me… You…”

His gaze and his full attention were on you, and it made you a little anxious.

“It’s okay, I’m listening.”

“Have you seen my cat?”

Minghao tilted his head slightly, and his eyebrows furrowed in the middle. “Your cat?”

You rummaged through your bag, looking for your phone, and showed him your wallpaper. “This is my cat. He’s been missing for more than three days.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, it must be terrible for you.”

You didn’t respond, just lowered your gaze and nodded slowly. It was very difficult to put into words how much you missed his presence, coming home and being greeted by his purring, or the way he curls up with you for bedtime.

Small tears started to fill the corner of your eyes, and the last thing you wanted to do was to make that kind man feel uncomfortable with your presence, and before you could just run away, he spoke.

“Let me do something for you.”

“Something… for me?”

“Yes, let me help you,” he said, stepping back slightly and extending his hand as an invitation. “Come in.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t, I’m in a hurry, and…”

“It won’t take long, I promise.”

You swallowed hard, thinking about how much you simply wanted to turn around and leave, but you nodded, and with some hesitation, stepped into the garden.

“I’ll give you a gift,” he explained, walking ahead of you, “to keep you company in these difficult times.”

You shrugged and made a slight grimace. “Thanks, but I’m not good at taking care of plants.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he turned to give you a smile, “I have a friend that I’m sure you can take care of.”

You gave a faint smile. “A… friend?”

Minghao said nothing, just gestured for you to come closer. When you took a few steps toward him, you heard a very familiar sound coming from nearby. Behind a flowerpot, a white, fluffy tail stretched out, and when you called his name, it revealed itself as a white cat that happily ran toward you.

“I was starting to worry about his owner,” Hao said to himself.

You were so happy to see him again—the only friend you had in that city—that you forgot about Minghao for a moment. “Don’t run off like that again, please,” you murmured, cuddling the cat in your arms. “I missed you so much, Vanilla.”

“I found him three days ago, sleeping on a sack of seeds” Hao explained. “And I guess he liked my food, because he didn't leave”.

“Thank you for taking care of Vanilla” you said with a bright smile, “He’s such a docile cat and I was afraid someone might have hurt him.”

“It was my pleasure to have his company. Actually, it made me think that I should adopt a cat for me.”

“Oh, can I go with you?” you blurted out, just to end up shrugging in shyness. “You know, I have one, and… I know a thing or two.”

Hao smiled and tilted his head slightly, his deep gaze resting on you with curiosity and perhaps, just perhaps, something a little further. “How about this weekend? At two in the afternoon”

You nodded slowly, unable to articulate a word. The silence lingered for a few seconds, during which the two of you simply held each other’s gaze, until you felt a soft warmth on your cheeks, trying your best not to smile.

“Saturday, at two!” you stammered as you walked towards the exit of the garden. “I’ll come pick you up!”

And as you turned to leave he called out your name, making you slowly turn on your heels.

“Remember to put an address on Vanilla’s collar,” Hao hesitated a little, “you know… If he comes by again… I know where to go.”

[k1mbe3rly]

Hi :-)

A Request for all of us are death (sorry if its double now somehow my Internet Connection kicked me out)

What about an oneshot or head canons what ever works better for you to work with - Yoon Gwi-nam x shy girlfried who is super loyal to him and stands by his side no matter what?

loveee

Gwi nam dating a shy girl headcannons

warnings: smut, gentle?gwi nam

- Gwi nam is very protective of you especially since your very shy and not that talkative, so when someone is telling/scolding you, he basically talks for you

- He loves your tits so much, he loves teasing your nipple and seeing them get hard against his fingers

- Gwi nam likes to show you off in public, he likes to hold your hand or have a hand around your shoulder just so people can see yall are dating, a few people know not to talk to you especially with Gwi nam on your side

- He would also show you off in many ways, he’ll fuck you in a janitors closet or a empty classroom, he also loves to give you hickeys where he knows people are able to see, he also likes when you give him a few hickeys as well

- Gwi nam gets mad very easily, and sometimes even takes it out on you by yelling at you or just raising a hand up, but he won’t actually hit you maybe just a shove

- He also loves taking his anger out on you in different ways, shoving his cock deep into you and pulling your hair back, slapping your ass as he whispers dirty things into your ear

- Gwi nam absolutely hates when you stop him from beating a kid up, but of course he listens to you since he figured your way to innocent to see him brutally beat some kid up, he gets annoyed and even asks “why the fuck do you care? you like him or something ?” he also makes you hit them sometimes “Go on. Give him a little slap to the face, just do something!”

- If he’s already annoyed at something and you protesting to stop him from beating a kid up, he would fuck you infront of them, forcing them to look at you as you get your insides ruined, he also makes you look up at the person and tell them that only he’s able to stretch you out the way he does and fuck you like the way he does

- Gwi nam who doesn’t show that much affection in public, he makes sure he doesn’t do too much infront of you or have anyone talk to you a lot especially if you don’t talk much and usually quiet, that’s how he noticed you in the first place. Admiring how silent and gorgeous you are focusing on the board and writing down notes

- He’s able to make you loud as well. Your moans filled up the bedroom yall were in, as skin slapping was heard as well as he watched how your mouth was parted open with moans falling out, he loves seeing you so loud for him

- Gwi nam actually tries to change for you, his behavior and how he acts, which was shocking to himself since he used girls and just threw them away, he noticed how he was acting around you like a nervous teenage boy trying to impress his crush, he even tried studying with you which turned out awefully causing him to groan in frustration and leave, he also checks if anyone is around and gives you hugs but than acts like he doesn’t care with a nonchalant face

- He does love you a lot which is why he fucks you a lot, not because he wants you for your body, but because he’s grown used to how tight you were around his cock, he absolutely loved feeling it tighten up even more, he even once tried going gentle but it just doesn’t work out and he even apologized!? “Sorry- but this gentle fucking isn’t working for me, awh- fuck!” he says as he begins thrusting even faster his hands curling into your hair

Apocalypse au

- Gwi nam who absolutely protects you with everything when the apocalypse breaks out. Killing people and beating them up if they ever get in yalls way from running away, but unfortunately you had somehow got separated from him, he was stressing out when he lost you, nowhere to be seen and even got turned into a Hambie

- Gwi nam who finds you hiding in class room shaking and crying and tries to go up to you and finds you backing up from him, he reassures that he’s not gonna bite/hurt you, you told him to just stay where he’s at and he listen, you guys sat separately as finally you gave into him and crawled towards him crying into his chest

- Gwi nam tries to calm you down but obviously he’s not the best at it “It’s okay.. your gonna make it out alive and we’re gonna have the best time together, well that’s if you make it alive..” he says as you cry harder at the thought of being into a zombie

- Gwi nam who makes you follow him and even kills off a few zombies for you, he finds Nayeon in a room with a bag of food, you watched as they interacted until he suddenly bit into her, you flinched at the sight and once he was done, he goes to you hugging you tightly, you were shaking in his arms as he spoke “Your never gonna leave me..okay? i love you so much. I’ll kill anyone for you especially in this state, I’ll help you get out of here, now here, eat this” he said giving you the bag of food

[synvil]

say you love me // matt sturniolo + chris sturniolo

synopsis : not saying “i love you” back to your bfs, a tiktok trend.

tiktok trends masterlist !

matt sturniolo (☆´3｀)

‘i’m abt done here, so ill pick up some food for us and be home in like 10 mins.’

matt was currently out doing some errands and such, and is in the middle of texting you as he prepares to leave and head home, letting you know the plan.

you respond back fairly quickly, a smile lacing on your lips as you decide to mess with him a little. ‘okayy, sounds good. see u soon :)’

your text causes the boy to smile lightly and he buckles his seatbelt, texting back. ‘i love you, angel’

‘mmh!’

you can’t help the giggles that escape you as he furrows his brows at the screen and sits in the car, staring at the phone in his hand as he tries again. ‘i love u [name]’

‘yup! be safee’

within seconds, your phone suddenly begins to vibrate, signaling that matt was calling. stifling a laugh, you clear your throat and answer. “yeah babe?”

“[name], what’s wrong? did i do something?” the immediate concern in his voice nearly causes you to give in as you purse your lips and feel your chest warm. “what do you mean?”

matt frowns as he leans back in his seat and crosses an arm over his chest. “you aren’t saying it back. what did i do?”

“awh, honey. im sorry, i was just teasing you. i love you, matt.” you coo, already feeling bad and matt huffs lightly. “god, you’re so much sometimes.. i love you more, dumbass. pizza still okay?”

“heh, sounds delicious. see you soon, matt.”

“alright. love you, angel.”

breaking into a wide smile, you chuckle. “i love you more.”

chris sturniolo (⸝⸝⍢⸝⸝) ෆ

“mmh, my baby is all dressed up, looking sexy.”

chris curls his lips into a smirk as he brings an arm behind his head to rest against his pillow while his other hand holds his phone as he lays in bed. “where you headed to?”

you giggle at chris’ words and smooth down your jacket a little, adjusting it before turning to the mirror in his room to look for any last minute changes. “i’m heading out with some friends, we’re going shopping.”

“mmh, pick out something pretty then. can’t wait to see it.” chris calls out, directing his attention back to his phone and you hum, picking up your purse off the bedside table. “i’ll take pictures.”

“alright, have fun. i love you, babe.”

“i will. i like you more.” you quickly say in response, speedily making your way to the door, and just as your hand grabs the handle, chris stops you. “nuh uh, get your ass back here.”

you bite your tongue from releasing a laugh and glance back innocently. “what? i’m going to be late.”

chris narrows his eyes as he stares up at you in disbelief. “i love you, princess.”

“i like you too baby, now can i go?”

chris appears unamused, quickly growing impatient as he stands up and heads over to you, and you swallow to keep your composure. once he arrives at your side, he cups your chin and presses you against the door.

peering down at you, he tilts his head and tries again, this time more firmly and staring right into your eyes.

“[name]. i love you. now say it back and say it right.”

feeling the warmth spreading across your cheeks, you shyly look away and murmur. “..i love you, chris..”

the man only smirks and pecks your lips before pulling away. “good girl. you’re lucky i don’t teach you a lesson.” he warns casually before making his way back to his bed and waves his hand dismissively.

“see you later, baby.”

a/n : i lowkey don’t know how to write chris but gave it my best shot !! hope you guys enjoyed :)

synvil™️

[mac-ann-cheese]

Some 19th century rusameamerus hcs!! (⁠゜⁠o⁠゜⁠;) and a little comic (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

Today, I will skip over the entire revolutionary war+whatever happened in the world in 1812, and we are nearing the 1820s. Um, no, actually over 1825... Cause in 1822 there is Monroe's doctrine with the whole "you don't mess with my stuff, I don't mess with yours,” a hands-off policy in South America, as a reaction to plans of the Holy Alliance (Austria, Prussia, Russia) to discuss matters at the Congress of Verona on the Spanish question. Like they wanted to restore Spanish rule over Latin American colonies that had declared their independence. AnOpinions of the former 13 colonies were not asked. The USA might have plans for LatAme, how could they??????!!!!!

Okay, I'll stop with the historical stuff. I got sidetracked. Sometimes I start to act like Philomena Cunk…

The portraits are in the appropriate style of grand manner for 18/19 century. Highly referenced Joshua Reynolds. They're unfinished cause I got bored. Sorry! (⁠˘⁠･⁠_⁠･⁠˘⁠)

Anywho

Al and Ivan knew each other in the first half of the 19th century. They met and interacted; some points of friendship were gained. This is established, at least in my interpretation. After many times of proving his independence, Alfred is still being isolated by the Old World. Like they're aware of his existence and literally don't give a fuck about it. Many other things are happening on the continent; no time for new acquaintances. However, America wants to be included and to have friends!! So he is still stuck with his "sort of not fully an ally in independence war cause yknow we don't want the british to consider us as enemies too, so here are two ships if the shit hits the fan - use them" Ivan. A close neighbour from the north who started doing... something? in the icy part of the land (expansion, colonial adventure in Alaska). A BIG imperial monarchy with a good position in the Concert of Europe. Someone who probably knows a lot about diplomacy and other things on how to exist as a whole country. On the other hand, Russia isn't reluctant to have a nosy and too energetic creature around; of course, he is excited about a new friend. They see benefits in each other—"the whole world will open for me/I won't feel so lonely with him". Almost compatible with problems. This was probably curiosity at first sight. Major "why is that with him this way and not the other?" factor.

A hot new bombshell has entered the villa

The next bit might come across as too metaphorical and OOC. You've been warned.

Ivan sees Alfred (at least until the 1850s) as too nice, too innocent, and an overall pure being. A boy is so full of wonder and love for everything that it feels almost impossible. Ivan doesn't want that to change and is actually afraid of it happening, he tries to hold back Alfred from seeing the other harsh side of reality; nevertheless, Al wants to experience all - dirt, bliss, the world as whole. He doesn't want to be brought back to life, isolated from others.

After the 1850s, the situation changed. Ivan really appreciated Alfred's benevolent neutrality with the mess the Crimean War was; there is no secret in that. As a way of showing gratitude for it, he started inviting Alfred more frequently to his place. For tea, for hunts or even without a proper reason [yeah, it takes like a month to sail from one continent to another, inconvenient!]. And Alfred crushed. Real hard (regular oh, italicized oh). No other nation was treating him like that—"humanly". Everyone wanted something from him and wished for him to somehow change in a direction that was more beneficial for them. For Ivan, Alfred, as he was, was more than enough. America knew that he appreciated Ivan way before, but didn't give much thought to his feelings. He was capable of some sort of controlling it. However, now [as in the second half of the 19th century] Alfred cannot. He sighs too loud, looks too long, and smiles too much. Everything feels too much for him to handle. He tries to distract himself and pays attention to making new friends (cough the opening of Japan in 1853-1855 cough), but is still drawn to Ivan. However, the latter doesn't understand why America is suddenly more jumpy, more uneasy with him, and why his laughs are more strained. Although Alfred insists that everything is just peachy (he doesn't want to ruin this friendship with his weird feelings), Ivan's suspicion grows. He wants to know why but can't come up with a solution.

Their already interesting liaison transforms into more confusion.

And I consider hetamyu canon (cause musicals fill in all the missing plot points in manga, for me at least), sooo according to the second one, there was something peculiar between them (the infamous kiss scene).

Although I headcanon, at least for half of the 19th century, their friendship was childlike and mostly naïve. Ivan and Alfred are tall kids in diff ways. And I can absolutely imagine them playing tag or hide and seek. Though, this could have happened in any century.

In 1861-1865 they couldn't physically see each other (Alfred had to crawl in trenches), so their usual correspondence intensified (that sort of "absolutely not gay in any way" messages, like "my heart aches at the thought of your suffering, my dearest friend")...

Except for the late autumn of 1863 [the visit of the Russian fleet during the fall-winter of 1863-1864*]. Ivan paid for the first time in a while for a visit to New York (I like to think that Alfred stayed a lot of times in Saint Petersburg; however, Ivan wasn't that fond of travelling). Alfred was tired and pretty much beaten from fighting with himself; however, some obsessed excitement brought back his optimism for one night. At the ball they, as expected, danced a bit, and escaped to a more enclosed space from people and noise. Not much talking happened there; soothing silence at that time was needed. Of course Alfred was stressed because your own family literally wants to dismember you (don't know if I need to put a historical reference, but still—at the outset of the war, England and France supported the South. Napoleon III, with colonial designs on Mexico [Second Franco-Mexican War, 1861-1867], looked longingly on a divided United States, and British shipping interests were seriously affected by Lincoln's blockade of southern US ports, which led to the recognition of the Confederate states as belligerents. Russia supported the Union).

*I wanted to add here an actual fun historical fact! This “gesture” was interpreted by Americans as sympathetical move and overall a sign of “secret agreement” and Russia's protection of US Government (you can read about it further here: https://www.jstor.org/stable/25156012)

Not long after that, Ivan started viewing Alfred as more mature than he was before (Ame literally got torn apart in the Civil War, of course he boosted in character development).

I'll stop here (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠)

(They were literally bros before hoes....................)

I'll think about making other additions to this long list of headcanons about the start of the 19th century and, of course, the whole selling Alaska event.

For finishing reading this scientific paper-sized post, you'll get old sketches of Al (and Matt!!! Woah!!) in Victorian clothing.

trench coat buttoned to the TOP.

[gojozballs]

Gojo x Reader "Sensei"

Warnings: [This story contains mature content, AGE GAP dynamics, inappropriate behavior, sexual tension, explicit language, degrading themes, yandere elements, and implied consent issues, with power dynamics and possessive behaviors.]

Materialist

A student’s innocent crush on her older teacher, Gojo sensei, quickly deepens into an intoxicating and irresistible mix of tension, longing, and unspoken desire.

Y/N's POV

Another long, exhausting day. The sun hung heavy in the sky as I lay sprawled on the training field, my limbs aching from nonstop drills with the second years. My body screamed for rest, but my mind? Oh, my mind had other plans.

"Y/n, what drink do you want?"

Panda’s voice cut through the haze of my thoughts. I lazily turned my head, catching sight of Nobara and Yuji lying beside me, just as wrecked.

"Cola," I murmured, barely mustering the energy to lift a hand.

"Damn that sensei," Nobara grumbled.

"Why?" I asked, half-amused, half-drifting off.

"I was expecting him to buy us sushi."

Gojo Satoru.

He was loud. Annoying. Cocky. Too much.

A chuckle left my lips. Gojo-sensei... Just the thought of him was enough to make my stomach twist into something unholy. He was twenty-eight years old, an entire decade (or more) ahead of me in life experience, but that didn’t stop my brain from taking a nosedive into dangerous territory.

And oh, what a dangerous place it was.

I closed my eyes, pretending to rest, but the ache in my chest was far too persistent. It spiraled, deeper, darker the thoughts I couldn’t seem to escape.

God, the way he touches me.

"Y/n-chan," his voice echoed in my mind, smooth and teasing, but there was always that commanding undertone that made my heart race. "I told you you’ll hurt yourself if you do it that way."

It wasn't just the words. It was the way he spoke them, as if he were fully aware of the effect they had on me. That same voice cool, collected seemed to curl around my thoughts, keeping me hostage.

I could still feel the pressure of his hands on my body. His fingers, sure but deceptively gentle, guiding me, correcting my stance during training. The subtle brush of his fingertips across my waist. It wasn’t necessary, not really but it felt... possessive, like he had every right to touch me, to control me, to shape me into something better... his.

Then there was that mission. Just the two of us, alone in the quiet darkness of a distant alley, the city lights flickering like distant stars.

The cut on my thigh was nothing barely more than a scratch but he insisted, like he always did. Like he couldn’t help himself.

"Take a seat. Let me take a look," his words slid over me like silk, deep, almost too soft, but still carrying the weight of an order.

I obeyed, even as my pulse thundered in my ears. His blindfold covered his eyes, but I knew. I knew he was watching, feeling me, every single movement, every breath I took.

His voice came again, low, quiet, as if the world had narrowed down to just us. "Spread your legs a little."

My heart stopped. My breath hitched, caught in my throat. I tried to steady myself, but I couldn’t. I could feel his presence in the room, even without his gaze, his awareness almost suffocating in the best way.

His fingers brushed my thigh light, barely there but I felt it all the same. The softness, the heat, the way they hovered just over the edge, teasing, almost daring me to respond.

It wasn’t just about the injury anymore, not with the way his touch lingered. His fingers traced a slow path up my skin, following the thin line of blood, the almost deliberate pace. Teasing. Torturing. Or maybe, maybe it was all in my head. Maybe I was just too far gone.

But the way his breath hitched slightly as he leaned in, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips... it wasn’t an illusion. He knew.

I shuddered, violently, unable to suppress the reaction. I wondered, for a fleeting moment, if he’d felt it. The way my body responded to his proximity, to his touch.

I wanted it. I needed it.

And maybe just maybe—he was more than aware of that.

A sharp voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, dragging me back to the present.

"Hello there, my lovely students!!"

My eyes snapped open.

And there he was.

Gojo Satoru.

His presence as commanding as ever. That signature smirk of his stretched across his face, a knowing glint in his eyes. He radiated an almost dangerous confidence—something unattainable, something that made me yearn to get just a little closer.

"You startled me, Gojo-sensei!" Yuji huffed

I tried to steady my breathing, but it was useless. My chest felt too tight, like I couldn’t pull enough air into my lungs. My skin burned, betraying me with the heat I could no longer ignore.

"You good?" Megumi’s voice broke through, his stare cutting right through me. His expression was unreadable, but I barely managed a nod.

Before I could even regain full control of my senses, Gojo moved.

Casually, effortlessly, he draped his arm around my shoulders.

My breath caught in my throat.

The warmth of his skin seeped into me, his presence overwhelming every part of me. His scent clean, fresh, yet undeniably masculine—wrapped around my senses. It was intoxicating. My body responded before my mind could catch up, leaning the slightest bit closer to him as if drawn in by some invisible force.

"Well, first years and second years, since you’ve all been working so hard, I ordered sushi and steak for you! Oh, and Kikufuku too!"

The group erupted into cheers, Yuji and Nobara’s loud voices rising above the others, but I barely heard them.

I was too focused on him.

On the weight of his arm.

On the heat radiating from his body, so close, it was like he was inside my skin.

And on that smirk the one that was somehow softer, more dangerous when it was aimed at me.

His lips curled into something almost teasing before he turned his face towards me, tilting his head just so.

Too close.

Too casual.

Too much.

"Eh? You good, Y/n-chan?"

The way he said my name, soft but with that playful lilt, made my heart skip. It felt like it was just for me, just between us, the rest of the world suddenly irrelevant.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry as I forced myself to meet his hidden gaze. His blindfold didn’t hide the way his presence stared right through me, and I immediately looked away, terrified of what he might see.

"Y-Yes, Sensei."

Nobara and Maki were grinning, their eyes twinkling with something knowing. They could tell. They knew and I could already hear their teasing, even if they hadn’t said a word.

Gojo hummed, a sound that was just enough to make my pulse race. His lips pressed into a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Well, enjoy! I’ll be off now!"

And just like that, he was gone leaving only the trace of his touch, his warmth, lingering in the space where he had been.

I was left breathless, hopelessly ruined in his wake.

Dirty Thoughts

We were sprawled out on the grass, trying to unwind after a brutal day of training. The air was cool and refreshing, but my thoughts? They were a mess. No matter how hard I tried to clear my head, he kept creeping in. His voice. His touch. God, why couldn’t I stop thinking about him?

"Come on, Y/n!" Nobara’s teasing voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, a grin playing on her lips. "It’s alright, share your little crush on Gojo-sensei!"

I froze, my heart lurching into my throat. Oh no. My eyes widened, and I instinctively looked away, hoping the earth might swallow me whole.

"Nobara, they don’t know about that!" I hissed, my voice barely audible, but it was too late. My face was already turning crimson.

The others didn’t even look surprised, though. Panda just shrugged nonchalantly, taking a bite of his snack. "Oh... I thought everyone knew?"

"Am I really that obvious?" I muttered, already regretting every decision that had led me to this moment. The warmth in my face was unbearable.

Maki didn’t even glance up from her food. "You literally gasp whenever he talks to you or touches you. What do you expect?"

I opened my mouth to protest, but nothing came out. I had no defense. I was so screwed.

Yuji, sweet, innocent Yuji, tilted his head in genuine confusion. "Why’d you even like Gojo-sensei? Isn’t he too old for you?"

The question hit me like a punch to the gut. All eyes turned on me, and I could feel the heat of their gazes. My throat went dry, my heart thundering in my chest. Too old for me?

"I—I’m not telling." The words escaped in a rush, my gaze darting nervously from one person to the next. My heart raced, the anticipation of their teasing suffocating me.

Panda raised an eyebrow, his lips curving in an almost curious smile. "Honestly, I’m kind of curious. Can’t even stand his presence half the time, but what is it that makes you, uh, special?"

Before I could gather my thoughts, Nobara grinned. Her mischievous glint told me she wasn’t going to let this go. "Well, she thinks Gojo-sensei knows how to please a woman, not just in bed, but—"

Before she could finish her sentence, I slammed my hand over her mouth, eyes wide with panic. My heart pounded in my ears, my body flushing with embarrassment. No, no, no.

Megumi, however, stood up, arms crossed, his expression colder than usual. "I'm not up for this talk," he muttered, clearly not wanting any part of this conversation.

Nobara smirked, unaffected, while Maki’s lips twitched upward in amusement. "It’s alright, Y/n-chan. Why don’t you tell us more?" Her eyes glinted with pure mischief, knowing exactly what buttons to press.

I felt my pulse race, but for some reason, I didn’t want to back down now. I took a deep breath, rolling my eyes in resignation. This was it. The point of no return.

"Well, honestly," I started, trying to keep my voice steady. "His personality is… really nice?" I laughed weakly, knowing full well they wouldn’t believe me. But I had to start somewhere. "I guess I’m a little weird, but whatever." I added quickly, trying to cover my embarrassment.

They leaned in, all eyes on me, waiting for more. The heat of my cheeks only grew stronger. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold this back.

"I like the fact that his fingers are really long… veiny, too." The words slipped out before I could think, and I immediately regretted it.

Nobara’s grin widened in triumph. "Yeah, she says Gojo-sensei will make her—"

I quickly slapped my hand over her mouth again, but it was too late. My face was flaming, and I could hear the teasing laughs of my friends, but it didn’t matter anymore. I had already gone this far.

"You’re a freak, Y/n," Maki said, her grin widening. "But honestly, you’ve said worse."

Panda chuckled nervously. "Girls scare me."

I chuckled in agreement. "Yeah, Panda, you get it." But even as I tried to laugh it off, my thoughts were still spinning. I’d just said that out loud, hadn’t I? It wasn’t just a thought anymore.

Maki leaned forward, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Don’t hold back now. Tell us what else you like about him."

I sighed in defeat, shoulders slumping as I realized there was no escape. "Fine," I muttered, my voice barely a whisper. "I think Gojo-sensei could fuck me dumb in every hole I have. I know it would feel good, and honestly, I hate how wet I get just from hearing his voice. Sometimes, I have to leave and go somewhere private just to think about his long, veiny fingers inside me... imagining him degrading me, calling me names..."

I exhaled shakily, the words slipping from my lips with a rush of breathless honesty. I didn’t even recognize myself anymore. The teasing laughter of my friends drowned out by the sound of my heart hammering in my chest.

"Atta girl!" Maki grinned, but it was like I was in another world. My mind was foggy, my body a furnace, and I was lost in my own confession.

Nobara and Maki exchanged looks, their grins more devious than ever. "You're definitely a freak, Y/n," Nobara said, winking. "But I like it."

I laughed weakly, my face still burning. They weren’t judging me. No, they were just having fun, and I knew it. In the end, it was just... a game. A game that I had stupidly played into.

But then, everything changed. A voice low and dangerously close—sliced through the air like a blade.

Oops

The air was thick with tension as I tried to compose myself, my mind still racing from the confession I’d just made to my friends. My face was hot, my pulse still thundering in my ears. I needed to get away from them, from this embarrassing conversation. So, without saying anything, I stood up and began to walk away, my footsteps heavy on the grass, like I was trying to outrun my own thoughts.

I didn’t even know where I was headed, but all I could focus on was the overwhelming need to escape, to gather myself before I completely lost control. I walked farther from the group, trying to calm the racing in my chest, but something was off.

As I rounded the corner of a large tree, I froze.

There they were.

Gojo-sensei and Shoko sensei

They were standing close, almost too close, talking in low voices, and everything about their stance screamed tension. Shoko’s head tilted slightly as she leaned against the tree, her body language casual, yet there was an underlying intensity to it. Gojo stood opposite her, arms crossed, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips, but it wasn’t the playful grin he often wore it was something darker, more calculated.

I was frozen in place, my body betraying me as I leaned against the tree for support. I hadn’t meant to overhear them, but now that I was here, I couldn’t look away. The world felt like it had slowed down, and all I could hear was their conversation, soft but somehow thunderous in my mind.

"She’s more than just a little curious," Gojo’s voice, low and gravelly, reached me first, and my heart skipped a beat. "She’s a lot more... willing than I thought."

Shoko’s voice, smooth and taunting, followed. "I can see that. You’ve got her worked up, Satoru."

Gojo chuckled, a deep, knowing sound that sent a shiver down my spine. "You know me. I always like to make things interesting. Besides, It’s just a matter of time before she realizes it herself." His voice dropped a notch, filled with quiet power. "But she’s already halfway there, don’t you think?"

I felt like I couldn’t breathe. What were they talking about? My head was spinning, my body trembling ever so slightly as I stood hidden behind the tree, my eyes unable to look away. Every word they said made my insides tighten with a mix of dread and something far more dangerous desire.

Shoko’s chuckle followed, smooth and light. "I think she’s already figured it out. She’s just too shy to admit it."

"Shy?" Gojo’s voice lowered to a near whisper, the words laced with something darker. "You don’t know her like I do. I’ve seen it in her eyes. She wants this... she’s just waiting for someone to give her what she really needs." There was a possessiveness in his tone that made my chest tighten. It was the sound of a man who knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it.

I wanted to turn away, to flee, but I was trapped. My body refused to move, as if it were being drawn in by the magnetic pull of their conversation.

"Now that’s a go signal, Satoru."

The words were smooth, like honey, but laced with something far darker. I froze, my heart stuttering in my chest, unsure whether to turn around or not.

"Mm, I know," Gojo’s voice answered, It was rougher than usual, but the edge to it made my stomach flip. "I didn’t take her for someone this... freaky. But I’m not complaining." His voice was filled with quiet amusement, but there was something else there, something dangerous, something hungry.

Shoko’s laugh followed, sultry and amused. "Isn’t that exactly what you wanted, Satoru?"

There was a pause. Then, Gojo's voice, commanding and full of intent, rumbled softly. "Guess those little touches I gave her really did the trick." The words were deliberately slow, almost teasing. "I knew she’d be a handful. But it’s nothing I can’t handle. right?" He chuckled low, the sound rich with unspoken promises, sending heat rushing to my core.

Shoko hummed in agreement, the playful tone of her voice only adding to the tension in the air. "Oh, I think she’s more than ready. It’s about time someone takes charge."

I could feel the weight of their words hanging in the air, thick with the intensity of the moment. The sound of their hushed voices swirled around me like an electric current, stirring up a chaotic cocktail of desire and anticipation.

But I still hadn’t turned around. I couldn’t. I was paralyzed by the sheer force of the tension building between us, the presence of Gojo and Shoko looming like a storm ready to break.

"Don’t worry, Y/n," Gojo’s voice, deep and commanding, wrapped around me like a warm, dangerous embrace. "I wouldn’t leave you hanging. Not after all this... building up."

And with that, everything went silent. The world around me held its breath.

Before I could process any more of their conversation, Shoko turned her head, meeting her gaze. The sudden awareness sent a jolt of panic through me, and I quickly backed up, heart hammering in my chest.

But it was too late.

"Y/n?" Gojo’s voice, smooth and teasing, called out softly, as if he had known I was there the whole time. "Are you enjoying the show?" There was no hiding the smugness in his tone now.

[vacz]

"Who are you looking at?" Bad End Friends (Comic)

I've spent all day trying to finish this comic! AHHHHH

So I present you an idea of a ship... Hunter x Ice Finn

"Why?" Well, if we think in the fact that in Adventure time's multiverse all the versions of Finn always ends up having a romantic relationship with a version of Huntress Wizard, and we take Bad End Friends as a canon alternative timeline where Finn didn't destroy Ice Finn's crown and so he later joined Bipper, how would Farmworld!Finn ends up with his version of Huntress Wizard as Ice Finn? Well the answer is simple: He doesn't end up with directly another version of her but someone who is similar to her... And guess who is more similar to Huntress Wizard?

That's right! Hun- Beast Wirt. I personally think Beast Wirt has actually more similarities with her since they both are like spirits of the forest who almost have the same personality, HOWEVER, I think Hunter and Ice Finn would have more CHEMISTRY and let me explain why:

They both are insane, they MATCH THEIR FREAK.

Ice Finn wouldn't be weird out for Hunter's appearance at all, like he did with the Lich, so Ice Finn would judge him according to his action and god- he gets it, At first he would hate him because Hunter is literally chopping people! But after getting an explanation of why he does this, Ice Finn would sympathize with the feeling of "wanting to protect your family" and want to help Hunter with his brother. Ice Finn proposed to Wirt the chance to save lives without having to change that much, and Hunter couldn't resist it, he could finally do something good for humanity! Maybe he could even redeem himself!

IT'S A KING AND KNIGHT DYNAMIC WITH SOME TONES OF PANTHERS IN CRIME

Hunter would watch around for people, and if he finds them then he should bring them to Ice Finn so he could freeze them. However, most of the time he spent it around Ice Finn himself, sometimes helping him with spells or other stuff like cooking, and other times just hanging around together. Their relationship is more equal than it seems, Hunter is just as enthusiastic as Ice Finn in saving lifes the way they do, Ice Finn constant joy and quick reactions are like fresh air for Hunter, who misses some real emotion in life, while Ice Finn has someone who actually cares about his safety and it's not manipulating him for his own selfish desires. Hunter loves Ice Finn's madness because it is a constant of movement, life and joy! While Finn isn't weird out at all by Hunter's more creepier madness, and actually finds him pretty cool and charming. They both don't judge each other and they are openly crazy together

Hunter is normally submissive, and has a craving for love to the point that he could fall really HARD for someone who shows him affection, of course Hunter would be protective and very jealous if someone tries something with Ice Finn, he thinks Finn as one of his more precious properties so Hunter would not let go this guy. Ice Finn is not innocent either, he was the one who kidnapped Hunter in the first place, Ice Finn makes him sleep on a cage even, you can say he also sees Hunter as a pet, one he loves so much but a thing at least...

However, even if they have these things that for normal people would be very toxic, for them is living a romance, a strange and delusional romance, where both souls lost deep in madness find each other to be their own guide though the black ocean of insanity

So tell me your opinion, I hope you guys like it! ^^

[buckets-and-trees]

Happy Friday, Aspen!

Legal Temptations

Characters/Pairings: Andy Barber x curvy Millennial female!Reader Word Count: 6.4k Summary: After battling with Andy Barber in the courtroom, your relationship takes a turn when you receive an unexpected message from your rival requesting a secretive meeting to discuss a high-profile murder case. Intrigued but cautious, you can't turn down the invitation from Newton's former Assistant District Attorney and your former law school rival.

Content/Warnings: explicit smut: vaginal fingering, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), ; mild exhibitionism (sex in front of a window), first time anal play/rimming; dirty talk; a lot of plot BEFORE we get to the smut

Notes: Sorry it's not Friday, Jen, and sorry this has also sat in my inbox for months! I kept on wanting to do something new with Andy and wanting to post it on a Friday, but things kept on getting away from me. Now I'm just posting and to hell with previous intentions, hahaha. But kicking off my series of Valentine Storygrams seemed like a good time to trot him out!

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

“I find the defendant guilty as charged.”

You surreptitiously suck in a breath and school your face to remain completely and utterly professional.

But your chest bursts into a triumphant fire at the judge’s verdict.

You’ve won, yet again, against Andy Barber. And rightly so. Your client was the victim, plain and simple. But it’s the third time in three months.

And it feels damn good to know you did.

As the courtroom erupts into a flurry of murmurs and movement, you gather your papers with practiced efficiency, sliding them into your briefcase. You avoid looking at the defense table.

The judge's gavel cracks through the air. "Court is adjourned."

You rise, buttoning your blazer with one smooth motion. Only then do you allow yourself a brief glance at your opponent. Andy's jaw is clenched, his shoulders tense as he leans in to whisper something to his client. A twinge of sympathy flickers through you - you know all too well the sting of defeat. But you still can't help savoring this moment, this victory. It's not just about winning – it's about justice served, about protecting the innocent and punishing the guilty.

As you stride towards the exit, your heels clicking authoritatively on the polished floor, a hand catches your elbow. You turn to find Sarah, your paralegal, grinning widely.

"Drinks to celebrate?" she asks, her eyes sparkling with shared victory.

You nod, allowing a small smile to curve your lips. "Absolutely. The usual place in an hour?"

Sarah gives you a nod, and then she’s approached by the brother of your client - whose been trying to hold back his clear crush on your paralegal until the case was over, and you’re happy to see him shoot his shot. He’s a sweet kid, just about her age, and she’s had terrible luck in the romance department. This could be a path out of the woods for her of those post-grad men who still desperately tried to cling to their frat boy glory.

You make your way out of the courtroom, nodding politely to colleagues and spectators. In the hallway, a reporter approaches, microphone extended.

"Counselor, another impressive win. Any comments on the verdict?"

You pause, choosing your words carefully. "We’re obviously pleased with the verdict. That's all I'll say for now. Any further comments will come through official channels." You offer a polite but firm smile, sidestepping the reporter with practiced ease.

As you’re about to get into your car, you look back at the courthouse and spot Andy Barber exiting the building, his face masking frustration and defeat. For a moment, your eyes lock. There's a flash of something—respect, perhaps, or resignation—before he turns away, striding purposefully towards the parking lot.

You shake off the encounter and settle into your car. Between the drive home to change into something more casual and then the drive to your usual celebratory spot, you’re able to decompress, shed the courtroom persona, and remember who you are outside of the high-stakes world of criminal law.

By the time you push open the door of O'Malley's, your favorite low-key bar, you're feeling more like yourself. Sarah is already there. She’s landed you a good corner booth, and two of the other paralegals from your office and your assistant are there, too.

As you slide into the booth, Sarah pushes a glass of your favorite scotch towards you. "To justice," she says, raising her own glass in a toast.

"To justice," you echo, clinking glasses with the group. The warm burn of the liquor is a welcome sensation after the tension of the day in court.

Your assistant, Mark, leans in eagerly. "So, boss, give us the details. How did Barber's face look when the verdict came down?"

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Now, now. We're professionals here. We don't gloat."

"Speak for yourself," Sarah quips, earning a round of laughter from the table.

As the conversation flows, the weight of the case finally lifting from your shoulders. Sarah’s receiving and responding to a few texts, apparently having agreed to give her number to the client’s brother. The victory feels sweeter shared with these people who helped you prepare for the case and who understand the long hours and emotional toll of the job.

Sarah leans in, her voice lowered conspiratorially. "So, what's next? Rumor has it the DA's office is eyeing you for a big case."

You take a sip of your drink, considering. "Nothing's confirmed yet, but there have been some interesting conversations. We'll see."

Just then, it’s your phone that buzzes. Glancing down, you see a text from an unknown number:

Congratulations on the win. We need to talk. Meet me at hotel bar at Clark’s, 10 PM tonight. Come alone. -AB

Your brow furrows. AB. Andy Barber. What could he possibly want? And why the secrecy?

You don’t respond right away. It’s only just past eight. You have time to consider the situation.

But ultimately, your curiosity wins out, and around nine, you make your excuses and leave your staff at O’Malley’s.

On your way to Clark’s, your wheels turn over the enigma that is Andy Barber.

He showed up in town almost six months ago, relocated from Massachusetts where he’d been the assistant district attorney before his son had been accused of murder. You had followed the tragic unfolding of events - the family ostracized from their community, brief reprieve when Jacob had been cleared, and then the tragic accident where his son and his wife ended up in critical condition. Jacob passed away, never coming out of his coma, and though Laurie recovered, a year later, their marriage never did, and they divorced in a fairly civil proceeding.

You had really felt for him initially.

But once you started coming up against him in the court room, you were reminded why you had hated him all through law school. He was always good at what he did, and he was smug about it. The two of you had competed for everything. Top spot of each class, the most competitive internships, nearly coming out even, but he edged you out for valedictorian of your graduating class, leaving you as salutatorian.

He’d gone public defender, and you’d moved back to your home state and gone into private practice, and you really hadn’t thought of him again until he made the news - because the son of an ADA being hit with murder charges made the national news circuit.

But back at law school, he’d gotten under your skin, and as much as you tried to ignore it now, he was doing it again.

You arrive at Clark's Hotel ten minutes before the agreed time, your mind still churning with questions. The hotel bar is dimly lit, all dark wood and leather, exuding an air of discreet luxury. You scan the room, but there's no sign of Andy yet.

Settling at the bar, you order a club soda. You need to keep your wits about you for whatever this meeting might bring. The bartender slides your drink across the polished surface just as you feel a presence at your elbow.

"Thanks for coming," Andy greets you in a low voice.

You turn to face him, taking in his appearance. He looks tired, the lines around his eyes deeper than you remember from the courtroom. His suit is slightly rumpled, as if he's been wearing it all day.

"What's this about, Andy?" you ask, cutting straight to the chase.

He glances around the bar, then back to you. "Not here. I've got a room upstairs. We can talk there."

Your instincts flare with caution, but curiosity wins out. You nod, following him to the elevator.

The ride up is silent, tension thick in the air. As the elevator doors slide open, you follow Andy down the plush carpeted hallway. He stops at room 712, swiping the keycard and holding the door open for you.

You hesitate for a moment before stepping inside. The room is spacious but dimly lit, with a view of the city skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows. Andy moves to the mini bar, pouring himself a generous measure of whiskey. He offers you one, but you decline with a shake of your head.

"Alright, we're here. What's going on?" you ask, your patience wearing thin.

He takes a long sip of his drink before turning to face you, his expression grave. "I need your help," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You raise an eyebrow, skepticism clear in your voice. "My help? With what?"

Andy runs a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration you remember from your law school days. "It's about the Donovan case."

Your mind races. Robert Donovan, a prominent businessman, found brutally murdered in his penthouse apartment. The Donovan case is the high-profile murder trial of the year - possibly of the decade - and set to begin in a few weeks.

Your eyebrows shoot up. "The Donovan case? Andy, that's not even your case. It's being handled by the DA's office."

He nods, pacing the room. "I know, I know. But I've been looking into it, and something's not right. The evidence doesn't add up."

You cross your arms, leaning against the wall. "What do you mean?"

Andy takes a deep breath, then launches into a detailed explanation. He talks about inconsistencies in witness statements, forensic evidence that doesn't quite fit the prosecution's timeline, and a potential alibi for the defendant that wasn't fully investigated. As he speaks, you find yourself drawn in, your legal mind picking apart the details.

"The blood spatter analysis," he says, pulling out a file from his briefcase, "it doesn't match the prosecution's theory of how the murder happened. And look at this," he points to a photo, "the angle of the wound suggests the attacker was left-handed, but Donovan is right-handed."

You lean in, examining the evidence. It's compelling. "Andy, this is... fascinating. But why are you showing me this? Why not take it to the DA? Or the press?”

“Someone with too much money, too much power, and too much influence is somehow pulling strings to pin this the way they want. You can help me identify the right players. But, what’s more, you have the necessary clout and influence in this town to go to the DA and be taken seriously, and I don’t have that yet.”

You take in a deep breath and study his face.

Impatient, he implores you by name - first name, not last name like he always did in law school and like he had these past months.

“It’s eating you up to admit that, isn’t it?” you finally say.

He puts his hands on his hips and lets out a deep sigh. “Yeah, it does. Satisfied?”

“Mildly,” you admit, a hint of a smirk on your face. “But Andy, why should I trust you? Word around town is you’re hit or miss on your cases, and I’ve just beat you on all three when we’ve come toe to toe.”

He arches a brow. “You think I’ve lost my edge?”

“You were brilliant Newton - on track to be the DA, you won everything.”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. He licks his lips. “Do you think it’s possible that the cases I’m losing now are for the defendants that should be put behind bars, the ones I have no guilt taking money from, and that I’m just that good that they never question that I’m making sure they get what they deserve?”

You arch an eyebrow. He doesn’t lose everything, and he certainly didn’t make any rookie mistakes on the cases he is losing.

“I’m willing to entertain that premise.”

“Alright, that’s all I need. Now what about Donovan?”

You mull over everything he’s shared so far. Your gut says he’s not wrong.

He says your name again, prompting you back into the moment.

You lock eyes with Andy, searching for any hint of deception. But all you see is earnestness and a hint of desperation.

"Okay," you say slowly, "I'll listen. But I need to know everything. No holding back, no surprises later. If we're going to do this, we do it right."

Relief washes over Andy's face. He nods vigorously. "Of course. Everything I have, it's all yours."

You move to the small desk in the corner of the room, pulling out a chair. "Alright then, let's get to work. Start from the beginning."

For the next few hours, you and Andy pour over the evidence, dissecting every detail of the Donovan case. As the night wears on, your skepticism fades, replaced by a growing certainty that something is indeed very wrong with this case.

Around two am, you lean back in your chair, rubbing your eyes. "This is big, Andy. Really big. If what we suspect is true, it could implicate some very powerful people."

Andy nods grimly. "I know. That's why I needed your help. I won’t be able to do this alone."

You sigh and press your fingers to your temples, massaging away what stress you can, though it seems futile. “This has to stay between us for now. If there's even a whisper of this getting out before we're ready..."

"I know," he interrupts. "Believe me, I understand the stakes."

As he gathers the files, you move to the window, gazing out at the city below. The lights twinkle like stars, hiding the secrets and machinations of the powerful. You can't help but wonder what you're getting yourself into.

Andy appears at your side, and you turn slightly to look at him. “Why are we in a hotel room discussing this? Secrecy? If you’re that worried, it won’t be hard to track you here.”

“I…” he laughs. “No, actually. It’s worse than that.”

“Oh, Andy,” your voice is wary, “don’t tell me you live here.”

“I haven’t gotten around to finding a place.”

“Six months, Andy!”

He smirks and cocks his head. “You’ve been keeping track of how long I’ve been in town?”

You look away, feeling your cheeks flood with heat.

He takes a step closer, not touching, but near enough that you can feel the warmth of his body.

“I didn’t know this was where you landed,” he says, “but when I got here and heard you were one of the top lawyers in this town, I felt a mix of curiosity and pride and... something else." His voice drops lower, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. "I thought about reaching out, but..."

You turn to face him fully, your breath catching slightly at his proximity. "But what?"

Andy's eyes search yours, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. "But I was ashamed. Of how things ended between us in law school. Of how my life had fallen apart. I didn't want you to see me like that, but I didn’t want to run away and start my new chapter making a cowardly choice by picking some place else."

The admission hangs in the air between you, heavy with unspoken history. You remember the fierce competition, the heated debates, the undercurrent of tension that had always existed between you two. And now, years later, here you are, standing toe to toe once again.

"Andy," you start, unsure of what to say. But before you can continue, he takes a step back, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry," he says quickly. "That's not why I asked you here. We should focus on the case."

You nod, trying to ignore the sudden pang of disappointment. "Right, the case. We need a plan."

As Andy moves back to the desk, you can't help but feel a mix of emotions - frustration at his deflection, curiosity about what might have been, and an overwhelming sense that you're on the precipice of something monumental with this case.

Leaving the window, you join him at the desk. "We need to be methodical about this. We can't afford to make any mistakes."

Andy nods, his professional demeanor firmly back in place. "Agreed. I think our first step should be to re-interview some of the key witnesses. There are inconsistencies in their statements that we need to explore further."

You tap your finger on the desk, thinking. "That's risky. If word gets back to whoever's pulling the strings, they might move to cover their tracks."

"True," Andy concedes. "But if we're careful, we might be able to gather crucial information without raising suspicions."

You consider this for a moment. "Alright, but we do it discreetly. No official channels. We'll need to come up with a cover story for why we're asking questions."

As you and Andy begin to outline your strategy, you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement. You feel it in every meaty case, that feeling never going away though you’ve been practicing for years.

"We obviously need to be careful about who we to to with this information," Andy says.

"I have a few trusted contacts in the police department who might be able to help us discreetly.”

“I’ve already established a few contacts on the street. And what about your paralegal, Sarah? Could she be brought in on this?"

You consider for a moment. "Sarah's reliable, and she has a knack for research. She could be invaluable. But let's wait before bringing anyone else in. For now, it's just us."

"Just us," Andy echoes, his eyes meeting yours. There's a beat of silence, heavy with unspoken words.

You clear your throat.

"Right," you say, breaking the tension. "Let's focus on our next steps. We need to start gathering concrete evidence to support our theory."

Andy nods, visibly refocusing. "I've been thinking about that. There's a security guard at Donovan's building who was working the night of the murder. His statement seemed off. Like he was holding something back."

"Good catch," you reply, impressed despite yourself. "We should try to talk to him first. Maybe we can convince him to come clean."

"Agreed. I'll set up a meeting, make it look casual. We don't want to spook him."

As you continue planning, the sky outside begins to lighten. You glance at your watch, surprised to find it's nearly five am.

"We should probably call it a night," you say, stifling a yawn. "Or morning, I guess."

Andy looks up from the notes he's been scribbling, seeming equally surprised by the time. "You're right. We've made good progress, and we’ll need to be sharp for this."

You start gathering your things, your mind already racing with the day ahead. As you reach for your coat, Andy's hand brushes against yours. The touch sends an electric current through your body, and you freeze, suddenly hyper-aware of his proximity. You turn to face him, and the intensity in his eyes takes your breath away.

"I know this isn’t the right time," Andy starts, his voice low and husky, "but I can't ignore this anymore."

Before you can respond, he closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. For a moment, you're too stunned to react. But then, as if a dam has broken, you're kissing him back with equal fervor, years of unresolved tension pouring out.

Your hands find their way into his hair as he cups your face in his hands. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more desperate.

Andy breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as you both catch your breath. "We shouldn't," he whispers, but his actions betray his words as his hands roam your body.

"No, we shouldn't," you agree, even as you start unbutton his white shirt. You know you should leave, should maintain professional boundaries. But the pull is magnetic, undeniable.

His hands reach for your hips but slide up your waist, fingers slipping beneath your sweater, and your feel your skin light up at every point of contact.

"We were too busy hating each other back at law school, but I've thought about this for years," he murmurs. "About you."

“You hated me?” you ask.

“No,” he admits.

“Me either,” you say truthfully.

Before you can say anything more, his lips are on yours. This second kiss is tentative at first, a question. But when you respond, wrapping your arms around his neck, it quickly becomes heated, desperate. Years of competition, of unspoken attraction, of what-ifs, all pour into this moment.

Your back hits the cool glass of the window, and you gasp at the contrast with Andy's warm body pressing against you. His hands are everywhere, pushing your sweater up and off your shoulders, reaching for the button of your jeans.

Your fingers fumble with more of the buttons of Andy's shirt as he trails hot kisses down your neck. The cool glass against your back contrasts sharply with the heat of his body pressed against yours. Your head spins, overwhelmed by sensation and the surreal nature of the moment.

"Wait," you gasp, placing a hand on his chest. Andy freezes immediately, concern flashing in his eyes. "Are you sure about this?" you ask, searching his face. "There's no going back."

Andy cups your face in his hands, his gaze intense. "I'm sure," he says, his voice low and gravelly. "But I’ll stop if you want to me to stop—"

You silence him with a kiss, pouring all your pent-up desire into it. That's all the confirmation Andy needs.

Clothes are shed hastily, hands roaming newly exposed skin.

Andy spins you around, your bare skin pressing against the cool glass of the floor-to-ceiling window. The city sprawls out before you, bathed in the soft light of dawn. The sky is a canvas of pastel pinks and oranges, the sun just beginning to peek over the horizon.

His warm body molds against your back as his lips find the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder. You shiver, partly from the chill of the glass, partly from the heat of his touch. Your breath fogs the window as Andy's hands roam your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

The city below is beginning to stir, early risers starting their day, unaware of the passionate scene unfolding high above them. There's a thrill in being so exposed, yet so hidden.

Andy's fingers thread through yours, pressing your palm against the glass, his other hand guiding the head of his thick cock to your entrance as he enters you slowly. You gasp at the sensation, your eyes fluttering closed. He’s big, so big.

Andy's hand grips your hip, holding you steady as he starts to move. The slow, steady rhythm is almost agonizing, but you can feel every inch of him stretching and filling you. You moan, your head falling back against his shoulder as the pleasure builds.

His pace picks up gradually as he leans down to kiss your neck again, his teeth grazing over your skin. Your fingers curl against the glass, your body moving in sync with his.

It's like a symphony of sensations – the warmth of Andy's body against yours, the coolness of the glass on your skin, the sounds of pleasure mingled with the noises from outside. It’s been years since you were intimate with anyone, and you have forgotten how good it feels to have a man inside you instead of a toy.

You lose yourself in it all, chasing after that elusive release that seems just out of reach. But then Andy's hand slides between your body and the glass, his fingers finding their way to your sensitive bundle of nerves. He presses down just right and everything around you fades away as you come undone in his arms.

Andy follows soon after with a low groan, pulling out just before he spills his seed over your lower back and ass, his body shuddering against yours with pleasure. You collapse against the glass, and he presses against you, both breathing heavily and trying to catch your breaths.

As reality starts to creep back in, you realize how exposed you are – a naked couple pressed against a floor-to-ceiling window for anyone below to see. Panic sets in for a brief moment before being chased away by a warm contentment at being wrapped up in Andy's embrace.

"Good thing we’re seven floors up," he whispers into your ear, seeming to read your mind. He presses a kiss to your shoulder before pulling back slightly and reaching for tissues from a nearby table to clean his spend from your back.

You laugh softly as you start to look around for your clothes. "Definitely not something I ever thought I'd do. And never thought it would be with you."

"I'm glad we did though," Andy says with a smile that you feel against your neck as he presses in behind you, not letting you move away just yet.

The rising sun paints your bodies in a golden glow, highlighting the sheen of sweat on your skin. Andy's free hand traces the curve of your breast, and you sigh happily.

Gently, he turns you back to face him, and then in one fluid motion, Andy lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carries you to the bed, laying you down gently on the soft mattress.

Andy kneels above you for a moment, pausing, his eyes roaming your body with undisguised desire. He’s already taken you once, so it’s no surprise, but his gaze is overwhelmingly intense, almost reverent, as if he's committing every curve and freckle to memory.

"You're beautiful," he murmurs, leaning down to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

There's no rush, no desperate urgency. Andy takes his time, exploring your body with gentle hands and soft lips. He traces the curve of your neck, the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist. Each touch sends shivers through you, generating a slow, simmering heat.

You run your fingers through his hair, down his back, feeling the play of muscles under his skin. There's an intimacy to this moment that surprises you - it's not just about physical pleasure, but a connection that feels deeper, more meaningful. Unexplored potential from years before spilling into reality now.

Andy's lips trail lower, across your stomach, down to the inside of your thighs. Your breath hitches as he settles between your legs, his intent clear. The first swipe of his tongue has you arching off the bed, a gasp escaping your lips.

As Andy’s tongue expertly circles your sensitive clit, you can’t help but lose yourself in the sensation. His skillful fingers tease and caress your folds, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Your moans grow louder as he delves deeper, his lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to drive you wild. You lose all sense of time, only focused on the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

With each flick of his tongue, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your body tenses as you reach your peak, crying out in ecstasy as a powerful orgasm rocks through you.

Andy continues to pleasure you until your body finally relaxes, then he crawls back up to kiss you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

"Wow," is all you can manage to say, still catching your breath.

"Mmm," Andy hums against your lips. "You taste amazing."

His tongue dances with yours, exploring every corner of your mouth. The intensity builds as he presses his body against yours, one hand tangling in your hair while the other caresses your side.

The kiss seems to go on forever, stealing your breath away. Just when you think you might need to come up for air, Andy breaks away, only to trail kisses along your jaw and down your neck. His lips find that sensitive spot behind your ear, and you shiver with pleasure.

"Turn over," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You comply, rolling onto your stomach. Andy's weight shifts on the bed as he positions himself over you. His lips return to your skin, starting at the nape of your neck. He places soft, feather-light kisses down your spine, taking his time to savor every inch.

His hands glide along your sides as he moves lower, kneading the muscles of your back. You feel the tension melting away under his touch. Andy's lips follow the curve of your spine, his stubble lightly scratching your skin and sending tingles through your body.

As he reaches the small of your back, he pauses. You feel his breath, warm and heavy, against your skin. Then his tongue darts out, tracing a sensual line back up your spine. You arch into the touch, a soft moan escaping your lips.

Andy's hands knead the muscles of your shoulders, working out knots you didn't even realize were there. His touch is firm but gentle, alternating between deep pressure and feather-light caresses. You feel yourself melting into the mattress, tension draining from your body.

As his hands work their magic, Andy's lips continue their exploration. He places open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder blades, occasionally nipping at the sensitive skin. Each touch sends sparks of pleasure coursing through you.

His hands are firm yet gentle, eliciting soft sighs of pleasure from you. As they move lower, massaging down your back, you feel yourself melting into the mattress.

His lips follow the path of his hands, peppering kisses across your shoulder blades and down your spine. The combination of his strong hands and soft lips has you practically purring with contentment.

Andy doesn’t pause when reaches the curve of your lower back this time. His hands grip your hips, lifting them slightly. You understand his intent and rise up onto your knees, keeping your chest pressed to the bed.

Andy's hands caress your ass, kneading the flesh appreciatively. You feel exposed in this position, but the reverence in his touch chases away any self-consciousness. His thumb traces your folds, finding you still slick with arousal.

"God, you’re already so wet," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “Getting wetter and wetter for me.”

Andy's hands caress your thighs as he positions himself behind you. "I want to taste you again," he says, his voice low and husky. "You think you can take more?"

You nod eagerly, anticipation building as you feel his warm breath on your sensitive flesh.

"I dreamt of having you like this in the library our last semester," he confesses and you groan. "Spread your legs a little wider for me."

You comply eagerly, shifting your knees further apart on the soft sheets. Andy's thumbs gently part your folds, exposing your most intimate areas to his hungry gaze.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he coos, leaning in so you can feel his hot breath on your sex for a moment, and you fist the sheets.

Andy starts with gentle kisses along your inner thighs, working his way higher. When his tongue makes contact with your core, you gasp at the sensation.

"You taste so good," Andy murmurs against you. "I could do this for hours."

His tongue explores every fold and crevice, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on your most sensitive spots. You moan as he circles your clit, pleasure building with each pass.

"That's it, let me hear you," Andy encourages. "I love the sounds you make."

He slips a finger inside you, curling it to hit just the right spot as his tongue continues its ministrations. The dual stimulation has you writhing, pushing back against his face.

"So responsive," Andy says appreciatively. "So wet and ready for me. You're close, aren't you?"

You can only whimper in response as he increases the pressure. Andy's skilled tongue works over your sensitive flesh, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on your clit. His hands grip your hips firmly, holding you in place as you writhe with pleasure.

"More," you gasp, fisting the sheets. "Please, Andy, don't stop."

He obliges, redoubling his efforts. His tongue delves deeper, exploring every fold and crevice of your sex. You feel the familiar tension building, a tingling heat spreading through your core.

"That's it," Andy encourages, briefly pausing his ministrations. "I can feel you getting close. Your pussy's clenching, begging for release."

He slides a second finger inside you, curling them both to hit that perfect spot. Combined with the relentless attention of his tongue on your clit, you reach for the peak of a third release, but then he slows.

You whine and shift against him. He chuckles. “Oh, I want to torture you more while I enjoy your eager body.”

“Andy!”

“You love it,” he says, “and I have a feeling you can take so much more.”

Andy's hands caress your thighs as he shifts his position slightly. "I want to explore every inch of you," he murmurs, his breath warm against your sensitive skin.

Andy's hands gently part your cheeks, exposing you fully. You feel a moment of vulnerability, but it quickly gives way to arousal as his tongue traces a path higher. When it reaches your puckered entrance, you gasp at the new sensation.

"Is this okay?" Andy murmurs against your sensitive skin.

You nod, words failing you as he begins to explore this uncharted territory. His tongue circles your opening, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention. The feeling is unlike anything you've experienced before - strange at first, but quickly becoming intensely pleasurable.

Andy takes his time, his movements slow and deliberate. His hands knead your ass cheeks as his tongue works its magic, occasionally dipping lower to tease your dripping core before returning to its primary focus.

As you relax into the sensation, Andy becomes bolder. The tip of his tongue presses against your tight ring of muscle, not quite entering but applying delicious pressure. You moan, pushing back against him, silently begging for more.

"You like that, don't you?" Andy says, his voice husky with desire. "Your body's so responsive, so eager for my touch."

He resumes his ministrations.

"Relax," Andy soothes, his hands massaging your lower back. "Just feel."

His tongue circles your entrance, tracing lazy patterns that send tingles of pleasure through your body as he continues.

He alternates between broad strokes and more focused attention, occasionally dipping his tongue inside. The sensation is intense, making you moan and push back against his face.

"That's it," Andy encourages. "You're doing so well. Does it feel good?"

“Yes,” you whimper as he increases the pressure.

Your body trembles with pleasure as Andy continues his intimate exploration. His skilled tongue works you into a frenzy, alternating between your sensitive openings. Just when you think you can't take anymore, he slides two fingers into your dripping core while his tongue focuses on your puckered entrance.

The dual stimulation is overwhelming. You cry out, fisting the sheets as waves of pleasure crash over you. Andy doesn't let up, working you through your orgasm and beyond it.

When the aftershocks finally subside, Andy places a gentle kiss on your lower back before moving up to lie beside you. He gathers you into his arms, stroking your hair as you catch your breath.

"You're incredible," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You snuggle closer, basking in the afterglow. For a moment, you forget about the case, about the complications. You're just two people, connected in the most intimate way.

But reality starts to creep back in as your breathing returns to normal. You lift your head to look at Andy, finding his eyes already on you.

"We should talk about this," you say softly.

"Us? Two lawyers? Talk about something?”

You laugh softly at Andy's quip, but the seriousness in his eyes belies his light tone. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and brushes his thumb over your cheek.

"I know," he says, his voice low. "This complicates things."

You nod, acutely aware of the warmth of his body pressed against yours. "The case..."

"Is still our priority," Andy finishes for you. "We can't let this distract us from what's at stake."

You sit up slowly, the sheet pooling around your waist. Andy's eyes roam your body appreciatively before meeting your gaze again.

"But I don't regret it," he says firmly. "Do you?"

You consider for a moment, then shake your head. "No, I don't. But we need to be careful."

"Yes," Andy agrees. He sits up too, running a hand through his tousled hair. He looks at you another moment, and then his hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "I think we need to keep this separate from our work on the case. When we're working, we're colleagues. Nothing more."

You nod, leaning into his touch. "And when we're not working?"

A slow smile spreads across Andy's face. "When we're not working, we can explore... this." He gestures between you two.

A smile tugs at your lips. "I like the sound of that."

Andy leans in, his lips brushing yours in a gentle kiss. It’s slow, and there’s a sweetness in the depth of it that scares you a little, not expecting that.

But you kiss him back, savoring the moment before reluctantly pulling away. "We should probably get some sleep," you say, glancing at the clock. "It's almost 7 AM."

Andy nods, but his hand trails down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "Stay," he says, his voice low and husky. "We can grab a few hours of sleep here, then get started on the case."

You hesitate, knowing you should probably leave, maintain some distance. But the thought of curling up in Andy's arms is too appealing when he’s so willing.

Andy's warm body envelops you as he pulls you down to lie beside him. His arm securely wraps around your waist, offering comfort and warmth. You nestle closer, finding solace in the rise and fall of his chest beneath your head. The rhythmic beat of his heart lulls you into a peaceful state in the early morning hours, your eyelids finally surrendering to the heaviness of sleep. As the world fades away, you know what’s coming next will be one of the most difficult challenges of your life professionally and personally, but at least in this moment you will take solace in the tenuous safety of this connection.

I started this story months ago, was pretty disenchanted with at the time (thanks @biteofcherry for talking me through that), but now that it's had time to age, I went back in, did some rewriting, and I'm happy with where it has finally landed.

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