#I think about this all the time URG thank you 💜

[robertphilip]

i MUST ask as well… i need all the first words & first steps headcanons please!!!🥺🥺💖💖

OUGH. Related to first things, I was thinking about Morgan's first birthday last night, and got emotional because it was just the two of them, and then I started thinking about how his ex-wife didn't even stick around for Mother or Father's day, and was probably barely present for Christmas... when I find her, it's on SIGHT.

anywayyyyyy

For Morgan, I think like your Juliette and Adam, it took her awhile to talk. Not two years, but it did take her a bit. She would babble every now and then, but actually saying words was not something she seemed interested in. She knew if she wanted Robert's attention, she could just pull on his sleeve, or crawl over to him, so why talk ? Just pointless in her opinion. and, of course, baby Morgan loved to just stare at him, which Robert is eventually able to pick up on, so again, why talk? Dad knows when she needs something 😤

I feel like her first word was "up" because she wanted to be picked up, and Robert was so excited. He kept kissing her, and repeating the word over, and over, and eventually wrote it down so he'd never forget 🤧

While I was thinking about Morgan's first birthday, I started also thinking about the idea of Robert having a little video camera that he'd set up to record home videos. and he'd probably try and get her to say that first word again so he has it on tape, too.

And for her first steps, Robert actually kind of missed them. But not because he wasn't there !! He was in the room, but sadly, he was working. I've (sorta) written this out (mainly for my own sake so I didn't lose the idea), but basically Robert and Morgan were playing with her stuffed animals on the floor, but eventually he has to stop because someone (sadly) has to work around here. So, he tells Morgan to give him a few minutes, and he'll come right back, and starts working on the couch. Morgan isn't really too happy about this because hey, we're playing an important game over here 😠 She tries to throw her stuffed dog at him, but it doesn't go far, which makes her huff, and then she just stares at Robert for a good minute. Sadly, he doesn't catch on because he's Working™️, which makes her huff again, and after another minute of staring at her toys, she just,,, forces herself up, and waddles awkwardly over to him.

Robert still doesn't notice though, and she wraps her arm around his leg for balance, and he kind of just mumbles out, "I know, just one second, sweetheart." so, Morgan keeps standing there, staring. Finally it dawns on him, and he slowly looks down, and they stare at one another quietly for a long moment. He slowly slides off the couch, and scoots back, like, an inch or so, and Morgan is like, ?????? >:( and follows, and he's !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Very Excited !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He can't stop kissing her and saying how proud he is, and how, "I can't believe I missed your first steps !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" and ugh.

They're everything to me :')

Now, for Sofia !!

Her first word is Pip ! And I feel like she started talking a bit earlier than most, as well, because she's around Giselle a lot, and her mama talks, and talks, and talks. Little Sofia was babbling up a storm almost always, so it didn't surprise them when she said her first word kinda soonish, buuuuut Giselle was not there to hear it.

Robert and Sofia were having a little daddy-daughter day at the park, while Morgan and Giselle were having a mother-daughter day, and that's when she says it. I've also written this out, and would love to post it some day, but who knows. Anyway, she sees a squirrel, and calls it Pip, and Robert's like, "Pip is a chipmunk, that's a squirrel" and she just keeps saying it, and it doesn't even click in his head that she's saying it until, hey, wait, did you just say Pip???? But by the time he's registered it, Sofia's moved on and is now playing with grass. he tries to get her to say it again, but she's in her own world now !!! The grass is more important 😤

Robert jokingly tells her that her mother is going to be So Jealous, and she is !!! But it definitely doesn't take Sofia long to say it again, and Pip can't even bring himself to be offended that she mistook a squirrel for him because "my name is her first word??????????????????" ough, he's so happy about it. And Giselle is so happy about it !!! She starts crying when Robert tells her what happened.

Her first steps, sadly Robert missed those, he has bad luck with his kid's steps. But Giselle kind of technically misses it, too.

It happens while Sofia and Giselle are in the garden. Sofia is playing with a little shark that squirts water from it's mouth, but it runs out, and she tries getting her mother's attention because she needs it filled, but Giselle doesn't hear her. So, she huffs, and just. Pushes up onto her feet, toddles over, and shoves the toy into Giselle's face. And Giselle stares in awe because her baby is standing !! But she can't even really process it because Sofia keeps pushing the toy against her cheek because she needs it filled !!!!! She apologizes, finally filling it, and Sofia happily walks off, and she's like, WAIT??? HELLO??? ROBERT???? and scoops up a now very confused Sofia and rushes her inside.

and once Sofia is walking, ough, she's even more of a handful. they don't ever actually do it, but Robert jokes that they might have to invest in those leash things for kids because she keeps running away from them 😭😭

[zepskies]

Hi Zep!! I love your writing so much!

How do you think Dean/Beau/ Ben would react to a surprise pregnancy and if the reader was unsure of keeping it?

Hi there! Aw thank you, anon. 💜

I know you asked me this a while back, but to be honest this is a touchy subject, so I wasn't sure if I wanted to answer it. All I can do is give my honest thoughts based on what I know of these three characters, with all their flaws and personality traits and humanity that goes along with that.

Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to a surprise pregnancy.

(And if you weren't sure about keeping it.)

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Dean Winchester

Once Dean gets past the initial shock, and the inevitable "how did this happen??!", he remembers just how he could've gotten you pregnant. Part of him wants to smile at the memory.

Good times.

He slowly realizes that he's...he's happy.

He never thought that he'd have any piece of "normal" after the way things ended with Lisa. Hell, he never thought he'd find what he had with you, let alone have a kid.

He hasn't told you this, because he's locked it deep within himself and hasn't allowed himself to open that door, but the part of Dean that considered what he would leave behind on this earth if he died--the part of him that wanted a family, is still there, beating in his heart. Maybe now he's finally getting his chance.

But he focuses on you.

He gauges your reaction, and his urge to smile falls away when he realizes you're more nervous and freaked out than excited.

Dean sits down with you, taking your hands to calm you down. He suppresses his own feelings on this for a moment, and he asks you the important question.

"What do you wanna do?"

You look up into his eyes, and you really don't know. The hunting lifestyle you both lead, how can you bring a child into this? Would that be right? Are you even ready to be a mom? Are you even capable?

"I don't know if I can..." you confess. "Dean, I don't know if I'm ready."

It breaks Dean's heart, though he tries not to show it.

For once, he thinks hard about what he's going to say next.

Eventually, he takes a deep breath and squeezes your hands.

"I get it," he says. "Whatever you want to do here, I'll back you up. But for the record, I'm right here with you. I might be screwed to hell in ways that I can't even...but I got no doubts about you, sweetheart. And I know we could do this together..."

If that's what you want. The rest is implied through his eyes. You read it there, clear as day.

You try blinking your tears away. When that fails, you sink into Dean's warm embrace and let him hold you. You press a lingering kiss against his prickly cheek in a wordless thank you. And I love you.

For now, you know that he's with you, and he's not going to let you go.

Beau Arlen

Like Dean, Beau would go through similar rounds of Oh, dear sweet Lord, and holy shit.

He thought you and him had been careful, damn it! But, apparently he's more potent than he thought he was.

For a few moments, it's just pure unadulterated silence between you two...until he looks over at you and tries to figure out what you're thinking.

He's got a half-grown daughter, sixteen going on seventeen. He's approaching his mid-40s. He hadn't even been thinking about the possibility of another kid...at least not yet.

Though he can admit, the thought of having kids with you makes him smile.

"So, uh..." he trails, earning your teary-eyed expression. He softens. "Aw, darlin'. Come 'ere."

He wraps you up in his arms and holds you close. You bury your face into his neck and sniffle, holding onto him tightly.

You love Beau. You truly, truly do, but you don't know if you're ready for this. You had plans, things you wanted to do, things you feel you have to do.

"I don't know, Beau. I don't know what to do," you admit. You don't want to hurt him, even though you know that you are. You can see it in his eyes when you pull back to look at him, though he tries to hide it.

"I'm not going anywhere. You know that, right?" he says. His voice is low and steady. He rubs your back to try and calm you down.

It starts to work. You nod and heave a shaky sigh.

Then you steel yourself, and you work past the fear making your chest tight to ask him an important question.

"What if I tell you that I'm not ready?" you ask.

For once in his life, Beau is quiet. He takes a long beat. So long that your heart begins to break.

But he does answer.

"Then I'd tell you...that I love you," he says. "That I'm with you. That I'll be with you, come whatever. But I gotta tell you...I got no problem being an old-ass dad. If I've got double-knee replacements in my future, then that's just what I gotta do. I'll break my hand building the crib and the porch swing. Hell, I'll build a whole damn tree house."

You can't help but break into giggles through your tears, in the way only Beau manages to accomplish. You stroke his cheek and rest easier against him.

Your heart eases quite a lot just being in Beau's supportive embrace.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Ben isn't all that shocked when you tell him that you're pregnant.

His surprise quickly fades into a pleased grin, and he pulls you into his lap to kiss you. Fucking finally...

But he stops short, realizing that you're not as happy as he expected you to be. Actually, you look anxious, and even scared.

"What's the matter?" he asks, his voice deep and direct.

You hesitate to meet his gaze, but you gain the courage to do so, resting a hand on his chest.

"Ben, I wanted to be honest with you, and so I am. I'm just...I'm not sure about this."

His brows furrow. "What's not to be sure about?"

Your gaze drops from his, making him frown. Upset begin to rise in his chest, disguised as anger. When you rise to get off his lap, he grasps your hand to stop you from walking away from him.

"Hey..." But then it hits him. The realization dawns, and deep inside, it hurts him. "You better not be saying what I think you're fucking saying."

Tears begin to well up in your eyes. Your heart clenches tight in pain just watching him work it out in his mind. You try to tug your hand out of his.

"Ben, please. Don't make this harder for me--"

He stands, but doesn't let go of you.

"What, you think I won't take care of you? You think I wouldn't take care of my own kid?" he says angrily.

"That's not it!" you say, shaking your head. "I just need some time to think, for Christ's sake!"

"What's there to think about? If you give a shit about us, about what we have? What, all of that isn't fucking good enough for you?" Ben says incredulously, gesturing at the home you two live in, and the life he thought you were happy with. "What the fuck is the problem?"

You look up at him in frustration with tears in your eyes, slipping down your cheeks. You shake your head at him.

This," you say. "This is the problem."

This time, when you tug sharply against his hold, Ben actually lets you go. You walk away from him and slam the door to your bedroom.

Ben just stands there for a while. The silence is only broken when he can hear you in the bedroom, trying to muffle your weeping.

Something unsavory churns in Ben's chest, squeezing tight around his heart. It's the sting of regret, both unfamiliar and irritating.

Blowing out a sigh, Ben cards his fingers through his hair. He can either stand here like an idiot, or he can do something worthwhile.

He goes to you. You haven't locked the door (not that that would matter), so he opens it. He sees you burrowed under the covers, laying on your side away from him. You turn away from him again when he approaches.

Almost hesitantly, he sits down beside you, smoothing a hand over your hair.

"Sweetheart, you're gonna have everything you need. You don't need to worry about anything," he says.

"I told you, it's not about that," you say sharply. "It's not about money, or being comfortable."

Ben endeavors to be calm. He counts to five in his mind, then he squeezes your shoulder, taking pains to be gentle.

"Then what's it about?"

After a beat, you finally turn around to face him.

"I just don't know if I'm ready for this," you admit. "We haven't been together that long, and I..."

Ben shakes his head. He strokes your cheek with his thumb.

"Don't worry about that," he says. He hesitates to say anything more.

The truth is, he cares about you more than he's been willing to express. The thought of you leaving him, or even not going through with this pregnancy--both cut him down to the bone.

Is it that you don't trust him? Do you not trust yourself? He doesn't understand all of what's in your head, but if the reason you're not sure about having his kid really is because of him, then...

His curled fingers brush along your jaw and prop under your chin, until your eyes meet his.

"Look, whatever reservations you have about me, just know this," he says. "I'm not going anywhere."

You sigh softly. You know how long Ben has wanted to be a father. You know he wants a family. You don't want to take that away from him, but you also need to protect yourself.

You consider his words carefully, as well as his face, and you see that he actually means it. You believe him.

It doesn't take away other concerns you have, but it's a start.

You sit up in bed, letting the sheets slip away from you. You reach up a hand to cup his bearded cheek.

He lets you guide him down to kiss you, his arm wrapping around you strong, but noticeably gentle. Tears sting behind your closed eyelids.

Maybe he is ready to be a father, and a better man.

AN: 😮‍💨 This one was angsty, huh? I think Ben's part was the one that held me up the most. It still assumes he's had some character growth from having a "real," actually caring relationship, but I tried not to sugarcoat what I think his reaction would be.

Let me know what you think! 💜

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[parfaitblogs]

baby it's halloween ❀ s. reid x reader

in which a mutual friendship leads to a run-in with your ex, and it's halloween, which means you can be anything. even normal with him right?

pairing: ex!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut (18+ mdni) tags: garcia party in rossi HOUSE 💜. alcohol consumption. reader's dressed as a swan (stunning gorgeous amazing). pre established friends with benefits (don't fuck your exes). s10 bau team is there in spirit i think. crazy spare bedroom hookup. brief nipple play. oral (f receiving). fingering. p in v. he dresses you afterwards. porn with plot. oral fixation. soft dom!spencer.  word count: 3.8k a/n: ex spencer reid makes a comeback. this is separate from bad idea right? but same pairing same sitch kind of same everything. LOL. thanks for giving me costume ideas guys. parfaitblogs revival!!! happy birthday spencer reid!!! happy halloween criminal minds tumblr!!!

"Penelope, what the fuck are you wearing?"

It was a very loud exclamation, over the sound of party music that certainly didn't match the overall theme of Halloween. It was only nine o'clock but the fox eared blonde in front of you had lip liner painting her chin, a pink flush on her cheeks barely hidden beneath a layer of makeup, and two cans of some multicoloured premixed vodka drink you weren't sure about trying (despite her holding one out to you). 

"Fox costume. I'm Agnes! From Fantastic Mr. Fox!" Penelope says, cheerfully, urging you to take the drink she had in her hand, not relenting until you did.

"We agreed on swans," you huff, feeling awfully stupid now, in your all white costume, a pair of fluffy wings settled on your back. 

Penelope looked genuinely apologetic for changing her costume idea on you with no warning, and so as she rambled about how she got excited after seeing fox makeup on her phone, you decided it wasn't actually that big of a deal. She finished her spiel with a comment about still technically matching because you're both animals, and it was enough for you to accept. 

She led you further into the house. House, because she had convinced one of her coworkers to let her host a Halloween party at his, claiming her apartment was far too small for such a thing. Apparently he was very easy to convince. 

It was a quick tour of where all the most basic of amenities on the first floor were, before she was shoving a shot glass of vodka into your hand, and encouraging you to take it. 

So you did. 

Perhaps it was a loosening up technique she was using in an attempt to keep you from ripping her head off when she began another conversation with you with the words,

"So, I need to preface before you get too drunk—" a sentence you really had never hoped to hear in your life "—that Spencer's here."

You're not too sure why your world begins to crumble around you at that fact. You figured he would be. In fact, when you were choosing the articles of clothing for your costume a week ago, you had the idea of Spencer Reid seeing you in mind. You had mentally prepared for seeing him. And yet; panic. 

However, instead of making a scene about how anxious that thought made you, you force a small smile onto your face and murmur out, "That's fine."

"Are you sure?" Penelope presses. "You can hover around me the entire night to avoid him, if you want. I'll stay away from him. I'm really sorry for inviting him."

You didn't like that. "No. Pen, it's okay. He's your friend."

"So are you."

Your heart stuttered in your chest at her words, a warm feeling spreading throughout it. But, ultimately, you were not the person who wants perfectly good friendships ruined because you're too scared to hold a relationship together. 

"I'll get drunk enough and start talking to him anyways. It's fine," you reassure her. 

And get drunk enough you did. 

You had bumped into him a few times already, making awkward eye contact when you passed him on your way to the kitchen for another drink, or to the bathroom to fix your corset that felt like it was getting tighter every breath you took. 

Yet here you were, stuck between the fridge and him, a collection of things you wanted to both beg him for, and cuss him out because of, sitting delicately on the tip of your tongue, waiting for the right trigger word from him.

Unsuccessfully, for he was rocking back on his heels, clasping his hands around the glass of water he was nurturing, keeping the peace between you two and staying silent. 

And you couldn't have that. 

"Hi. How are you?" you chirp after closing the fridge, a can you were getting for Penelope and not yourself now settled between your hands.

"Hi. I'm good," he says, sending you an all too familiar tight lipped smile. One he always did when he was feeling awkward. "How are you?"

"This is really formal," you say, tilting your head to the side. "I'm good."

He nods his head in agreement, and you find every curse word you had ready to yell at him dissipate in an instant. "I like your costume. Swan?"

"Yes," you nod your own head, forcing the flutter of your heart to stop.

You weren't sure what he was when you had first arrived to the party, but a few short exchanged words between the two of you revealed the fake teeth he had settled in his mouth, confirming Penelope's earlier guess that he was a vampire. 

Fitting, you had almost said then. 

"I like yours too," you say after a few beats of awkward silence and you realising you hadn't said much after his compliment. 

"Thank you."

It was an awkward song and dance around the elephant in the room (your relationship, or lack thereof). An even more awkward interaction of him reaching behind you into the fridge to get out a drink for Morgan, and then a breathless apology when he had gotten a bit too close and you hadn't had a conscious enough mind to step back.

"I don't like this," you blurt out.

"What?"

"This. Us," you clarify. "Being awkward. Not talking. We talk fine when we hook up."

Because yes, there's that secret you were keeping hidden away from Penelope. 

"We're preoccupied during that."

"I'd argue seeing each other naked once a week is much more awkward than bumping into each other drunk, at a party."

"I'm not drunk."

Right. You knew that. Spencer Reid didn't drink. It was why the cup in his hand was only water, and the alcoholic beverage in his other wasn't for him. 

If you were any less buzzed you probably wouldn't say the unfortunately very embarrassing sentence you let leave your lips, that sounded a little foreign even to you. 

"Then do we need to see each other naked tonight to make this not awkward?"

His lips parted and he froze, rightfully so. You weren't sure how you'd react to somebody asking you that either. It seemed awfully blunt for even you, and if you were any sane person, you'd probably be backtracking to take it back. Instead, you were just as frozen as him, fearful for how he would respond. 

"No," he says, but there was a strain in his voice that told you otherwise. Thankfully, you had enough self restraint to not call him out on that. 

"No?" you tilt your head to the side.

"No, we don't need to. Do you want to?"

Does it make you a horrible person to say yes? To take advantage of one of the many rooms littering the Rossi house, and use a situational run-in to have sex with your ex-boyfriend?

Probably.

"Yes. Do you?"

"I like how you look tonight."

Your heart rate speeds up. "That isn't an answer."

"Yes," he says. "I do."

The kitchen was left empty with a glass of water and two unopened cans on the countertop, that Derek Morgan was no doubt bound to discover when Spencer never returns. Followed closely by — probably — Penelope discovering the same about you. Which would probably lead to the discovery of the friends (were you friends?) with benefits situation the two of you had. 

You've barely stepped into the spare room he had located before he's kissing you. Feverishly, devouring you whole, as your back is pressed up against the door. Your wings dug into your shoulder blades, the feathers tickling your arms, and yet you couldn't find it in you to care. 

"Spencer."

His response to your plea of his name is to kiss you harder, fingers entangling in your hair, and you think if he pushes against you any more, you'll meld to the atoms of the door. 

"You taste like alcohol," he mutters against your lips. 

"Funny that."

"Are you drunk?"

"I'll remember this all in five minutes, if that's what you mean."

"Sort of."

His mouth detaches from yours, and there's a desperation in the way he kisses down your neck you don't think you'll ever get used to, no matter how many times he does it. 

It was a heartbreaking reality of the difference between how he would have sex with you then, and now. 

It's his grumbling that forces you to focus on him again, and not the comparative thoughts you have whirring in your brain. His fingers are fumbling with the lacing on your back, as he says, irritation you find almost hilarious in his tone, "I hate corsets."

"You said you liked it earlier."

"I liked it when I wasn't trying to take it off of you."

You smile. "I'll wear something more convenient for you next time."

"Yes. Thank you," he nods, successfully loosening the lacing enough so he could take the corset off of your body. "T-shirts are good."

"Duly noted." 

"Or nothing. Nothing's better," he adds, leaning in to kiss you again, his hands dropping to your chest — completely bare, considering you couldn't justify the wearing of a bra beneath the corset. 

"I'll ask the board."

You feel him smile against your lips, his hands cupping your chest, thumbs delicately running over your nipples to elicit a breathless whine from you. Ever so careful, he uses his thumbs to circle them, amused with just how easy it was to fluster you.

His lips trail down from your lips again, his hands dropping to your waist, using his hips to nudge you towards the bed.

The backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed and you wince, although any pain dissipates as he murmurs a gentle apology and lowers the two of you to the bed. 

It's quite amusing; the articles of clothing you're removing from your bodies. You didn't think feathered wings and a Dracula-esque cape piling together on the floor would be a sight you ever saw in this context, and yet. 

"What do you want, honey?" he asks you, though your brain is a little preoccupied with his pulling of your skirt down your legs, fingers brushing against your skin. He forces your focus back onto him again with the calling of your name, and a kiss to your inner thigh. 

"What're you willing to give me?" 

"You know I'd do anything."

Your heart soars. Yes, you do know that. He loves to prove that feat to you. 

"I don't know," you shake your head. "Whatever you want. You choose. My gift to you this Halloween."

It was a tradition you had started with him three years ago, on your first Halloween together. You knew how important the holiday was to him, and so you had bought him a plethora of decor for his apartment (on top of what he already had). You had helped him set it up, and later that week he had gifted you a charm bracelet with a pumpkin clasp. Every Halloween since, you bought him more decor, and he bought you a Halloween inspired charm for the bracelet. 

This was your first Halloween where you weren't together. 

"I didn't get you a charm."

"That's okay," you reply, earnestly. 

"You're so wet," is voice is breathless, changing the topic of conversation awfully quickly. For his eyes had dropped to the only item of clothing you still had on, and his fingers had trailed far enough up your thighs to brush over it. 

"Do something about it then," you retort, bluntly, and he smiles amusedly. 

He probably murmurs something about you being a brat, but his hands were pulling your underwear down your legs, and you should not be expected to focus on two maddening things at once. 

Thankfully, he does do something about it. And quite quickly, too. Wasting no time teasing like he usually does, instead attaching his lips to your core, tugging a moan from your lips. 

His tongue licks a stripe up the centre of your folds, circling your clit, expertly so. 

"Oh God," you whine out, breathlessly, head falling backwards and digging into the mattress beneath. Sinful as it was, Spencer's tongue on you did feel like the closest thing you'd ever have to a religious experience, a thought that had crossed your mind the many times he's done this before. 

Once he's sure his tongue flicking over your clit had worked you up enough, you're forced into shock as you feel one of his fingers at your entrance. Lack of hand-eye coordination aside, he's well versed in the art of using two different body parts at once to make you come, and yet you're still writhing beneath him like it's the first time.

Sometimes it felt like it was. 

"Spencer," you nearly cry out, if not for your hand flying to your mouth to muffle how loud you had anticipated you'd be. 

He pulls his lips away at that, instead lifting his head to hover over yours, as he pushes a single finger inside you. Even when your eyes flutter closed and your head tilts back further, you can still feel his gaze on you, as if in awe of the way you looked. 

"That was so easy," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your cheek. "You really did want me to do this tonight, hm?"

Too wrapped up in the feeling of being touched by him again, all you can do is nod your head, and you feel him smile against your cheek. 

"Yeah, I know, sweet girl."

He captures your lips again, swallowing a string of moans that leave your lips when he begins to move his finger in and out. Finger that becomes fingers, for he's pushing another one in, and you're arching your back up as you attempt to accomodate to the stretch. 

"I know, I know," he repeats when your head jerks back as your lips part in another, this time silent, moan. "I shouldn't have missed last week, hey? I'm sorry I was out of state."

You want to tell him it's okay. That you didn't really mind being celibate for an extra seven days on top of the six the two of you leave between your nights together. Unfortunately, growing accustomed to a once a week cycle meant the interruption of it left you overwhelmingly easy to shatter with the simplest of touches. You did mind, so you kept your thoughts to yourself. 

"Please," you ask him, almost pathetically, when he curls his fingers and your entire brain goes fuzzy.

"Please what, honey?"

You're not sure what. More of his fingers? His tongue back on you? You want it all. Yet, time was unfortunately of the essence, and you were acutely aware of the ticking alarm clock in view on the bedside table. You did not have the minutes to receive absolutely everything you wanted from him.

"Want you to fuck me," you murmur. 

He breathes out a laugh. "I know. I'm going to, I promise. I just need to get you ready first, okay? How're you feeling?"

"Ready." Your voice is an impatient grumble, one that amuses him greatly, which frustrates you even more. 

"I don't think so," he shakes his head, pushing his fingers back inside of you to elicit a sharp whine from your lips. "I want to do this a little longer, anyways."

"Spencer."

Your protest and attempt to bribe him with a kiss is hopeless, for he is continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you, using your arguably selfish kiss to quiet every single sound you make. 

It isn't until you're quite literally writhing beneath him and begging him with an incessant repeat of his name, does he pull his fingers out of you. Tapping your lower lip with them, you take his fingers into your mouth, despite your panting and attempts at catching your breath. 

You want to close your eyes, but the way he's looking at you as you suck on his fingers is borderline ridiculous, and you should probably be locked up for just how attracted to it you are. 

He trails his fingers out of your mouth after a few moments, but any desire to protest that is lost on you when your eyes catch his removal of his boxers. 

He disappears from above you for only a minute, though he knows you too well and says, "I'm getting a condom," before you have a chance to start complaining about it. By the time he's returned, he's kissing you again, and you've forgotten all about your irritation.

The head of his cock pushes at your entrance, and you're already a mess. He's slow as he eases into you, and you're eternally grateful for it, because your entire body tenses up, and he's forced to pause, and ease your muscles with his hands kneading your thighs. 

"I'm sorry," he says, genuinely, when your eyes squeeze shut, and you're back to remembering why you're not happy about the dreadful thirteen day celibacy he forced upon you. But he's so nice, and so apologetic, that as he bottoms out, your hands are wrapping around his neck to provide him with silent forgiveness. 

He stays still for a few more moments, his lips tickling your jawline. His breath fans your skin, warm, and just as desperate as your own, which is comforting. 

"Tell me when you're okay," he says, quietly, breathing out a moan when your walls flutter around him. 

After a beat, you murmur, "I'm okay," and he pulls his hips back, before rolling them back into you, slowly. 

You're a puddle of content and pleasure and love as he repeats the gentle motions of fucking you, moaning and squirming beneath him, despite his hands on your hips in an attempt to keep you still. 

"Doing so well for me, honey," he tells you after a few minutes, and heat warms your cheeks at the compliment. He laughs at your bashful smile. "You feel so good."

He moves his hips a little faster, and you're moaning again, hands dropping from his neck to the mattress. At that, he picks up his ministrations once again. All up until all the tender, slow motions are gone, and he's listening to your throat produce broken whines and pleas, his own presenting breathless groans.

"Spencer," you gasp out at one particular thrust, and he's instantly repeating that same deep movement. "Oh fuck."

"Like that?" he asks you, tenderly, and you're frantically nodding your head. "God, look at you. You're so pretty when I do this to you, you know?"

Vulgarity — in any form — coming from Spencer Reid's mouth should sound foreign, and yet it doesn't. Though, perhaps you're too lost in the pleasure of just how good he feels to believe he's anything but perfect.

"I want to come," you tell him, a disguised plea.

"Okay. I can make that happen."

You know he can. He's proven it a thousand times, you're sure. 

One of his hands drops to your cunt, fingers finding your clit and timing the circles onto it with his thrusts, until you're pretty sure there is no longer a coherent thought in your brain that isn't simply him.

If his aim was to turn you into a mess with very little time, he was excelling above average. Your hands had grabbed fistfuls of the duvet cover atop of the bed, your mouth producing nothing but a constant repeat of, "Please," and "Spencer," one after the other. 

He wasn't surviving very well, either, you found. His breathing heavy and his thrusts growing sloppier by the second, until he was feeling your own walls clench around him with your stomach tying itself into a knot. 

He forced his hips to keep moving, albeit much more messy now, as he moaned against your skin, his own orgasm wracking through his body, while still attempting to chase your own. 

It didn't take much more than that, to be honest, and your entire body went boneless and shattered beneath him as you came too.

Jelly seemed like an apt description for what you felt as you relaxed in the bed and your nerves began to calm down, Spencer breathing heavily above you. Up until he was sliding out of you, and standing up on legs you could see shaking, perhaps just as much as your own. 

He's disposing of his condom as you lay there, attempting to regain your breath, eyes fixated on the ceiling above you. He's shuffling around more than you'd expect for a simple trash trip, but then you feel hands on your ankles, and your head snaps down to find him kneeling at the foot of the bed, gently tugging your underwear back up your legs. 

"I know it's not ideal," he says, when your face scrunches up as the piece of fabric lands back on your hips. "But I also know your skirt is too short to not wear these."

"I'll get over it," you reply, letting him redress you with delicate fingers that leave your entire body hot, with goosebumps rising on the skin.

"Yeah," he agrees, though half-heartedly, expert fingers clasping your bra back onto your body. 

Once your skirt is back on, he helps you up into a seated position, helping to reapply the feathered head piece you had on. 

It's oddly intimate, way he's kneeling in front of you, breath warm against your face as he clips the feathers into your hair. Your breathing hitches as his hands drop back to your thighs upon finishing, and you swallow the lump in your throat. 

"Everybody's gonna know what we did," you say, quietly, for it was true. You two had been gone for too long of a time for people to not draw correct conclusions. 

"They already know we do." Hook up.

"What? How?"

"You need to stop telling Garcia things."

Your face falls, and he smiles, sympathetically, thumbs drawing gentle circles on the skin of your thighs. 

"At least you don't work with them."

"I guess there's that," you confirm with a small nod.

He's silent for a few more moments, simply staring at you and studying your face, before he sighs, and goes to pick up your corset. 

"You need to go to the bathroom after this," he instructs you, though gently, motioning for you to stand up and turn around so he could do up the dreaded lacing. 

"I know. Don't worry."

"Good," he replies, your skin tingling with every extra bit of pressure he put on your back as he laced up your corset. "You feel okay?"

"Yes," you nod your head. "Do you?"

"I do," he confirms for you, tying off the lacing and tapping your hip so you could turn back around. 

You do, and your eyes flicker up to his face. "Do you also promise not to make me wait two weeks again?"

"I'll talk to the board."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[strang3lov3]

Tear You Apart

Roman hatefucks you (2.1k words).

Tags - smut, rough/violent sex, mean!roman, and perhaps dark!roman too if you squint (I’m serious. Don’t underestimate him) lack of proper foreplay (intentional), unprotected piv, spanking, biting, choking, hitting, degradation, bruises, dacryphilia, hatefuck, masturbation, fingering, creampie, come play, fearplay, threats of violence, typical Roman sexism, Roman spits in your mouth, orgasm denial, Roman denies you of some basic physiological needs in maslow’s hierarchy, a singular atom of aftercare, one (1) Depeche Mode reference. Probably forgot some things but if you’re here then you know what you want, and I know what you want, and we both know you’re gonna read anyway.

A/N - received a message from god and i did what had to be done. @cum-a-calla said “k but imagine Roman talking about how much he hates you while being violently railed. swoon” so here’s this. Straight fucking, beginning to end. I love you @cum-a-calla I think you’re just the fucking best 😻🥰 and @beefrobeefcal do your eyes ever hurt from how much I abuse them? Thank you for lending them to me again and again 💜🥩🐛

Roman’s swaying left and right in his swivel chair, nursing a glass of whiskey when you open his bedroom door. “You’re late,” he says, slurring his words ever so slightly. His eyes are bloodshot, hair mussed, tie loosened and his white shirt unbuttoned. Roman takes his silver watch off and sets it down on the end table next to him. 

You shift your weight from one foot to the other. “I know.”

“You texted 10:30,” Roman reminds you. “And it’s midnight.” 

“I know,” you repeat. “I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.” 

“Better fuckin’ not. C’mon, chop chop. You know what you’re here for.” 

You do know; the same thing you’re always here for. Roman downs the rest of his drink, then pours another, and this time offers it to you. You decline politely, a quiet and demure no, thank you with a gentle shake of your head as you take off your shirt. Roman shrugs, drinks that one too. He feels lightheaded. 

You shuck off your pants, and Roman takes care to help you with your bra, fingers tracing over the indents it’s left in your skin. “All of it,” he says, smacking your ass, right over that large, rashy bruise he left last time. It was a week ago, maybe. Is that correct? Is that the last time you did this? Roman can never keep track. It doesn’t matter anyway. You’re just as hungry for Roman’s violence as he is to inflict it upon you. 

You shimmy the cotton underwear down your hips and your legs, now fully bare before Roman. Exposed. Roman sidles up behind you, his veiny hands on your waist. He urges you closer to the mirror and turns you around slowly, admiring the marks he made on you last time. Bite marks, lots of bites, and god, how he loves sinking his teeth into your skin. There’s bruises darkening your skin, though not all are visible. Some you feel instead of see. There’s the odd scratch, maybe the fault of his unclipped nails or perhaps the blunt metal edge of his watch he doesn’t always remember to take off. Roman watches you in the mirror, the eye contact intimidating. He looks like he wants to eat you alive.

Roman presses his fingertips against a bruise on your hip, causing you to wince. It’s an odd shape, odd location too. “I like this one,” Roman says. “Pretty.” It’s a compliment, almost. Almost. 

It begins here. Roman separates your hands that are held together, nervously fidgeting with yourself. He takes your forearm and twists it behind your back, pushes it up, up, even higher yet. You can see in the mirror how he smiles, his eyes darkening when you start to wince in pain. “You’re hurting me,” you whine. “You’re - ah, my arm–”

“I know it hurts you,” Roman taunts. “I could break it just like this. Fuckin’ snap it. I think about it sometimes.”

His words make you sick. Make you breathe funny, make you feel all icky inside. He fucking loves it, how your breath hitches in your throat, and how he can feel it happen under his palm. And when you’re afraid like that, you squeeze around him harder, walls pulsing, clenching…

Roman forces you down onto the bed, your face buried in his pillows. You lie on your stomach and he parts your thighs with his knee, still holding you in place, now with both of your arms bent into place. Roman holds them in one hand and kneels at your side, and with his free hand he rubs over the swell of your ass. He parts your cheeks, admires your tight asshole and your snatch. He traces those pretty folds of yours and rubs your clit, listening to those quiet gasps you swallow. He wonders when you’ll - and yup, there it is. You’re writhing on the bed, grinding your hips into his palm. Roman smiles at this. The rules, you’re breaking the rules. “I’m not gonna make you come,” he reminds you. 

“I know,” you mumble.

“I’m only getting you wet.”

“I know.” 

“Then what do you think you’re doing?”

Silence. Roman removes his fingers from your cunt and spanks you hard - once, twice, three times total. You wail in pain, humming rhythmically in an attempt to soothe yourself of the ache, that awful sting. Roman traces the outline of his puffy handprint on your ass. “You just don’t get it, do you? It doesn’t matter how many times we do this little dance. You never learn who calls the shots. Un-fucking-believable,” he huffs. “I don’t give a shit if it hurts - you can forget about getting wet now. Spread your legs.”

Roman situates himself behind you as you spread your legs, though it’s not enough. Roman holds the backs of your knees in his hands and spreads you wider, the cool air a jarring sensation against your hot, pulsing sex. He unbuckles his belt and tosses it on the floor where it lands with a loud thump. He undoes his pants next, the zzzzip noise slow and loud as the metallic teeth separate one by one. Roman pulls his already-hard cock out and before entering you, brings his palm to your mouth. “Don’t say I don’t do anything for you. Spit.” 

You lift your head and spit into his palm, and he strokes his cock with it before pressing his blunt head against your entrance. You squeeze your eyes shut and suck in a breath, anticipating what’s to come. 

Roman thrusts violently into you, the stretch and the burn causing you to squeal. You scramble for hold on the sheets, the pillows - anything to ground yourself as you take the pain he gives to you. Roman grabs a fistfull of your hair and yanks, “C’mon,” he goads. “You can do better than that.”

Roman pulls out of you all the way and plunges right back into you, harder than before. You bite into a comforter to muffle a sob, the first tears squeezing from your eyes. It hurts, it all really fucking hurts, and each time is worse than the last. 

He wriggles his forearm under your tummy and hikes your hips up, Roman on his knees behind you. “Fuck yourself on it,” he says. “Go on and fuck my cock. Show me that you’re good at one thing, one simple thing.” 

Following his command, you rock yourself forward, then back again. It’s slow, as that’s all you can stomach right now. The pain hasn’t yet dissipated and each movement, each twitch of Roman’s cock feels like a knife against your insides. The pain is fiery, too intense to focus on anything but. 

“Are you even trying?”

“Yes,” you whimper, till rocking, inch by little inch. “I’m trying.”

Too slow. You’re too fucking slow, and too fucking tedious. Roman rolls his eyes, “You’re fucking pathetic,” he spits, words like poison. He takes your hips in his hands and pulls you hard against his cock, his hips slamming against your ass as he sets a brutal pace. “I have to do everything for you. What can you do, huh? Tell me, say ‘nothing, Roman’.”

“Nothing,” you repeat, voice thick with your tears. “Nothing, Roman.”

“That’s right. Don’t you ever forget it, you goddamn useless fucking cunt.” Roman’s nails are digging, cutting into your skin as he fucks you like an animal. “You’re good for nothing but getting fucked. Fucking whore, you’re fucking nothing without me. Nothing.”

You nod, sobbing as he pounds into you. You’re completely powerless, just how he wants you. Roman bares his teeth as he leans over you to wrap his hand around the column of your neck, pulling you up and against his chest as he fucks up into you. Roman squeezes your throat, bruising the soft flesh as he bites into your shoulder hard enough so that he draws blood. The coppery taste, the crimson dotting your skin. He licks it away. 

He’s choking you. He’s choking you and you’re wheezing, coughing and sputtering as you try desperately to wriggle your fingers under his palm. You succeed in this, or perhaps Roman lets you have a small win - either way, you free yourself from him and crawl forward on the bed, reaching for Roman’s glass of water on the nightstand. With shaky hands, you bring the glass to your lips and take little sips, all you can handle and you’re still spilling onto yourself. Roman glares at you as he gets off and rounds the bed, then takes the glass away from you. “Did I say you could have that?”

“I was ch-”

Roman lays a brutal slap against your cheek, less of a smack and more of a beating. His palm is so sharp it makes you cry harder. Fuck, he loves when you do that. 

“Shut the fuck up. You choke if I want you to choke,” he bites. “Don’t pull that shit again. God, I fucking hate you.”

Roman forces you onto your back and spreads your legs again. He enters you just as harshly as he did before, finding that same, punishing, unrelenting pace as he fucks you deep, the head of his cock kissing against your cervix with every one of his thrusts. 

You choke on your sobs, hyperventilating as tears stream down your cheeks. You feel lightheaded, numb everywhere but where pleasure and pain flows between your hips. Breathe, you need to breathe. 

“Stupid fucking slut. I fucking h- oh, fuck. Shit. I fucking hate you. Jesus Christ, I really fucking hate you, you know that?” 

You cry and cry, burying your head into Roman’s pillows to hide your face. Roman pulls the pillows away from you and throws them onto the floor, then grabs your face, digging his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks as he squeezes your jaw. “Hey. You fucking look at me when I use you. Right here. You focus right here.” 

Your face is puffy with tears, eyes red and tear-stained, lashes all wet. Roman wears a crooked smirk as he digs his fingers harder into your cheeks so that your mouth opens in a little O shape, then spits into your mouth. “Cunt. I fucking hate you, oh, I fucking hate you.” 

Roman pounds into you, hovering over your body to cage you in. You’re gonna feel all of him, and nothing else. He pins your wrists together above your head, his face panting into the skin of your neck as he fucks you so brutally. “Oh my god. Oh, fuck. Fuck,” he moans.

If you focus hard, you can feel his pubic bone against your clit. You follow that sensation, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts, chasing that sweet friction. You could come. You could. 

“Nuh-uh. Nice fucking try,” Roman half-laughs. “You’re not subtle.” 

Standing before you, Roman grabs you by the ankles and tugs you closer to himself. He puts your legs on his shoulders and ruts into you relentlessly, now chasing his orgasm. He could’ve gone longer than this, but he’s not gonna let you come on his cock. 

Roman feels that fiery pleasure build quickly in his belly, balls tightening, indicating that release is just moments away. “Ohhhh, fuck,” Roman moans gutturally, hanging his head back as he milks himself entirely, spurting rope after rope of his hot come.

You feel cheated. You feel used. You’re a crying mess when Roman pulls out of you, his spend spilling onto his bed. “R-Roman,” you whimper, violent sobs wracking through your body. Roman gathers his spend with his fingers and paints it over your cunt, lips all swollen and sore with the ferocity of his fucking. “I need you, Roman.”

Roman leans over you, “Go fuck yourself,” he whispers in your ear. “I mean it. Fuck yourself on your fingers.”

You’re completely exhausted. Fucked out. But still, you reach for your center and gather Roman’s come on your fingertips and circle your clit, willing your release along. Writhing on the bed, chasing a pleasure only Roman can give to you. And your poor pussy is so sore, beaten and bruised by Roman. He watches you intently and with dark, loveless eyes, that vein bulging in the center of his forehead. He covers your mouth with his hand and brings the other to your cunt, pushing two fingers inside, gentler than before. He curls those fingers repeatedly as you rub circles around your clit and oh, there it is. You’re pulsing around his fingers, muffled moans signaling your orgasm. Roman works you through it and far past its end, only stopping when you’re a twitching shuddering wreck, a bug flailing on its back. Pathetic.

Roman pulls his fingers from you and shoves them past your lips, “Suck,” he murmurs, then presses his forehead against yours. You lick his fingers, tasting your own release mixed with Roman’s. “God, you’re so fucked up,” he murmurs in a saccharine tone, and the sympathy in his voice sounds almost genuine. “So fucked up. Why do you let me do this to you, huh?”

-

Roman tags ❤️

@goldenispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @gaeela-6 @bean-is-reading @slutsoutgutsout

@galarian-weezing-on-prep @cum-a-calla @pastelpinkflowerlife @kolsmikaelson

@moth-maam56 @kothku @cult-of-escapism @swiftiegirliepop @bluecookies-and-ink

@romanarose @kappasbbgirl @magpiepills

@highinmiamiii @verstappensrealwife

@thesummerpetrichor @lilipads @luiscarrutherss @pastelpinkflowerlife @baronessvonglitter

@myromeow @ovaryacted @doll-0f-flesh @/always-andromeda

[merbear25]

Getting caught masturbating by Ace, Zoro, and Luffy? XD

Hey, hey! Oh my goodness, talk about living rent free in my head. Thanks so much for planting this seed. I hope you like what I’ve written for you. 💜💜

CW: NSFW, MDNI, gn!reader, headcanons/scenarios, both are tipsy in Zoro’s part, reciprocated feelings

Catching you masturbating (Ace, Zoro, Luffy)

Ace

Watching you dancing from across the room was the lure needed to pull him towards you. The way you swayed your hips enticed him to join you in your alluring motions. With flirtatious whispers being exchanged, the spark was clearly there which led to an almost ravenous lust.

You suddenly ran off in the middle of your flirty conversation. With all your rubbing against each other and his wandering hands, he was at a loss for words when you excused yourself. At first thinking that you just had to use the bathroom, you’d been gone long enough to let the worries of pushing you too far fill his mind.

He wanted to give you the space you may have needed, but the urge to smooth over any discomfort he’d possibly caused overshadowed that. Going off to search for you, he passed by all your most favored spaces on the ship yet couldn’t find you. Standing in front of the bedroom door, he lightly knocked before entering. 

The sight of your flushed cheeks, panting face, and messy hair was the most pleasant way he could think of being welcomed into a room. When your lustful gaze settled on him, the arch in your back as you continued playing with yourself gave him a surge of fervor.

That beckoning you held in your eyes for him to come over to you was not going to go unsatisfied. He flashed you a cocky smile while he took his time walking over to you.

“You could have just asked for my help, you know,” he teased.

Zoro

He could tell you’d had a few drinks but so had he. Your flirtatious nature morphed into touchy feely and compliments, which he’d normally roll his eyes at, but that night he felt like indulging you a little—wanted to tease you a bit. The soft giggles and flush from the banter was beginning to be fun, though he wasn’t going to admit it outright.

Chugging the seemingly endless amounts of sake, he saw an intriguing look gleam in your eyes. “What is it?” He cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Could you come to my room in 10?”

With a puzzled expression, he couldn’t hide the suspicion in his tone, “Yeah?”

When you scampered away, he shrugged off your odd behavior and got back to guzzling down booze in the meantime.

Stopping at your door a little later than you’d asked him to, he opened it to find you with practically nothing on and satisfying your pent-up desire for him. His immediate response was to go wide-eyed and cheeks flush a deep red. 

When his eyes darted from your exposed body to your face, the look you were giving him turned his flustered expression into a sly grin. “You look like you could use some help.”

Your nodding and soft gasps gave him more than enough incentive to give you what you’d been craving.

Luffy

Even though you and Luffy were very affectionate with each other, there wasn’t really anything romantic happening between you yet. With each morning waking up wrapped in each other’s arms, it was becoming harder and harder for you to ignore your own wants and needs to be physically intimate.

He tended to wake up before you, usually being pulled out of bed with his insatiable hunger. Accidentally waking you up, he blurted out an apology before scurrying off to the kitchen. After being jostled awake from the hot and heavy dream you were having, those lingering fantasies of you and Luffy were making it difficult to ignore your growing arousal.

Reaching between your legs, you indulged yourself in self-pleasure, quickly losing yourself in the sensations. The sheet had slipped off your hip and was now hugging your lower half perfectly, practically offering you up to whomever walked in the room.

Barging into the room to get you for breakfast, your exposed body was on full display for him. With your embarrassment leading you to cover up, you were perhaps even more shocked when he protested.

“W-wait, don’t stop,” he had a blush on his face but his eagerness helped him push past that. “Can I watch, just for a little bit?”

You hesitated but ultimately gave in—after all, you were looking for more intimacy with him. As you continued playing with yourself, your moans and trembles brought him closer to you and coaxed him into gently rubbing and kissing your legs.

“You really look like you’re enjoying yourself…Can I join in?”

[theemporium]

congrats on 10k lovelyyyyyy!!! truly deserving, your works are some of my favorites on this app 🫶🏻 may i order a 💜 "I can't smile at you, I'm mad." with nico hischier ?!! lots of love for youuuu

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

1."I can't smile at you, I'm mad."

.

“Fancy seeing you here.” 

Nico shot you an unamused look as he held the door open, long enough for the nurse in the room to sense the tension in the air and quickly scamper off. He flashed the nurse a thankful smile before letting the door close behind her, turning his attention back to you. 

“This isn’t funny,” he said eventually.

“It’s a little funny,” you countered, watching as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Okay, but in my defence, I didn’t think anything bad would actually happen.” 

“How is that your defence?” Nico countered with a frown.

“It’s all I could think of in the twenty minutes it took for you to arrive,” you admitted with a sheepish expression.

“Baby,” he sighed heavily. 

“Is this the part where you tell me I told you so?” You asked, still lighthearted and teasing as if you weren’t currently sitting on the hospital bed with your ankle all bandaged up from an accident that could have very easily been avoided. 

It was a running argument between you and Nico for the duration of your time spent in the apartment. You had moved in together over a year ago and it was absolutely perfect, minus the fact the top shelves of the cupboards were just out of your reach. 

It wasn’t too bad, considering most of the things on the top shelves were things you and Nico barely used in your everyday life. It was rare for you to reach for them, and even when you did, Nico was usually in the flat to help grab them for you. 

The argument stemmed from the day he came back home after practice to find you on the kitchen counter. Nico deemed it too unsafe, that you could fall or slip off when straining to get something from the shelf. You said he was being a bit dramatic, that you had done it plenty of times before with ease. 

The boy near had a heart attack every time he witnessed it in person. 

Now, here you were in the hospital, ankle wrapped up with an x-ray confirming it was broken and an odd sense of embarrassment towards the fact that Nico was right, that it was unsafe, that this all happened because you had the urge to bake and the cake tins were right at the back of the shelf. 

The doctors had called your emergency contact—Nico—after the x-rays had confirmed the fracture.

“Babe,” he said once again, his brows furrowed together as he shook his head. “I’m not happy about being right, you know that, right?” 

“You have to be a little bit smug though,” you countered. 

“My girlfriend broke her ankle and had to find her way to hospital alone,” Nico stated as he rounded the bed, like he needed some reassurance that you were okay as he reached for your hand. “Nothing about that sentence makes me feel happy or smug.” 

“Nico, baby, I’m fine,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand before patting a spot on the bed for him to sit down. “It’s not the end of the world and, overall, it’s funny. Now, c’mon, smile for me.” 

“I can’t smile at you, I’m mad,” Nico muttered but took a seat on the bed, perched at the edge like he didn’t want to take too much space. Which was just comical with the size of him. “What if I was away on a roadie? Or what if something more serious than a broken ankle happened? What if—”

“You know why I love you so much?” You cut him off, watching as the boy flashed you a confused look. “Because you care so much. You had such a big heart and you are so, so sweet.” 

His cheeks flushed a little. “Stop trying to butter me up.” 

“I’m only telling you the truth,” you retorted before squeezing his hand once more, tugging him a little closer so you could lean in and peck his lips. “I’m sorry for worrying you. And I’m sorry for not listening to you about the kitchen counter. You were right.” 

“I’m sorry for being so hard on you,” he murmured in reply, leaning in for a longer kiss before his shoulders dropped a little in relief. “I swore my heart stopped when I saw all the missed calls and voicemails. I think Jack had to catch me a little when I realised it was from the hospital. I thought something really bad had happened and—”

“Instead it was just your pretty girlfriend busting her ankle whilst trying to bake?” You finished for him, a smile on your lips. “God, at least I never managed to get anything in the oven or we would have bigger problems to deal with.”

Nico snorted despite himself. “Shut up.” 

“There’s that smile I love,” you grinned happily, your finger lightly poking the dimple of his cheek. “Plus, look at the bright side.”

Nico raised his eyebrows. “And what’s that?” 

“I now have an excuse for you to carry me around,” you joked, something in your stomach twisting to see that dimple once again. 

Instead, his expression softened as he raised your hand to press a kiss against your knuckles. “I’d carry you wherever you wanna go, baby. Gonna take care of my girl,” he said with so much sincerity. 

“My own knight in shining armour,” you sighed happily.

“More like a sexy nurse,” he corrected, something quite like amusement shining in his eyes. “If I was your knight in shining armour, I would have caught you when you fell. Easy.” 

.

[sasheemo]

Friday Thoughts

Chapter 5

Chapter Summary: Sunday morning’s spicy haze gives way to a heartfelt conversation about your future together. But with Agatha’s signature flair, it’s anything but ordinary.

Chapter Tags: Jealous Reader, Domestic Bliss, Nicky is Basically a Tiny Wingman, Happy Ending, Fluff Ending, Slow(ish) Burn Payoff, Smut

Word Count: 8.9k

A/N: Chapter 4 dropped on Christmas Eve, and now Chapter 5 is here New Year's Eve—what can I say, I aim for festive timing! 😬

I know I’m not the fastest writer, and I’m sooo sorry about that, but this final chapter had me second-guessing everything right up until the very end.

It was supposed to be short and sweet. No smut. No Rio cameos. Just a heartfelt conversation to wrap everything up neatly. But… well, apparently I can’t resist a little extra spice and some fluff. So instead of “short and sweet,” you’re getting “long and indulgent.” You’re welcome.

Oh, and fair warning—this chapter has a lot of dialogue. But I promise I did my best to make it… engaging wink wink 😏

This is my first-ever completed multi-chapter fic, and honestly? I’m a mix of proud and devastated to be saying goodbye to it. These two have been living rent-free in my head for a while now, and I really hope this ending does them justice.

Thank you to everyone who’s been along for this wild ride—it’s been a joy writing this story, and your support has meant everything. As always, I can’t wait to hear what you think! Here’s to the happy ending these two (and you, let’s be real) deserve. Enjoy and Happy New Year! 💜🥳

Chapter Index

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All you can hear is the relentless pounding of your own heartbeat, each thud drowning out your thoughts as you search for the words.

Agatha’s watching you, her gaze sharp but not unkind. Her hand rests lightly on your arm—a simple, grounding touch—but it might as well be a flame branding your skin, its warmth sending waves of tension rippling through you.

The weight of her presence, the intensity of her eyes, the way her touch seems to anchor you in place, it all builds to a point where you feel like you might snap. You take a step back, breaking the connection, though the movement is hesitant, almost reluctant.

Agatha lets her hand fall without protest, her brow lifting slightly in curiosity as she watches you retreat.

Your feet begin to move instinctively, pacing back and forth across the room as you try to untangle the storm of thoughts in your head. The soft sounds of your bare feet against the hardwood floor create a rhythm, something tangible to focus on as you walk a short line, turn, and walk it again.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Agatha shifting her stance. She takes a couple of steps back and leans casually against the dresser, crossing her arms over her chest with an ease that contrasts maddeningly with your spiraling. 

Her hair falls loosely over her shoulders, the soft light catching on its dark waves. Her expression is calm, almost amused, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips as she tracks your movements.

After a couple of minutes of incessant pacing, you don’t even need to look at her to know she’s probably fighting the urge to laugh. She sighs, low and exasperated, though there’s no real annoyance in it.

“Come here, hon.” her voice cuts through the fog in your mind like a blade, steady and commanding. 

You freeze mid-step, glancing toward her, your pulse quickening at the simple authority in her tone.

Slowly, you approach, hesitant but unable to resist the pull of her presence. You stop just short of closing the distance, leaving a fragile sliver of space between you—a barrier you cling to, as much for your own composure as for a chance to steady the storm inside. 

Every part of you aches to close the gap, but you hold back, convincing yourself that this small distance is the only way to face her with a clear mind.

Agatha doesn’t push, doesn’t reach for you. Instead, she stays where she is, leaning against the dresser, her eyes fixed on yours with piercing intensity. Her stillness feels intentional, as though she’s giving you space to breathe, to think, while still holding you firmly in her orbit.

“Well?” she prompts, her voice a velvety blend of calm and command. “Whatever’s got you pacing like a caged animal, it’s time to spit it out.”

You let out a sharp breath, your shoulders slumping slightly as the tension inside you finally breaks.

“Doesn’t this worry you?” you ask, your voice tight with nervous energy.

“You’ll have to be a little more specific, hon.” she replies smoothly, her tone effortlessly confident. “What part of this is supposed to worry me?”

You gesture vaguely with your hands, the words tumbling out clumsily as you try to give shape to your thoughts. “I mean… all of it? Us. Nicholas. What if—what if this gets messy?”

Her smirk deepens, and she tilts her head, studying you with that maddening, amused expression, like she’s already figured you out and is just waiting for you to catch up.

“Messy?” she repeats, the word rolling off her tongue with a teasing lilt. “Sweetheart, the only thing messy about this is how you’re tying yourself into knots over it.”

“I’m serious, Agatha.” you scoff defensively, crossing your arms over your chest.

“So am I, hon.” her voice sharpens slightly, firm but not harsh. “Look, I’m not saying there won’t be challenges. But whatever they are, they’re not anything two grown women can’t handle.”

“So… what exactly is it that’s worrying you?” she presses, her tone softening just a fraction.

Her question hangs in the air, and the weight of her gaze settles over you like a warm, steady pressure. You glance away, trying to collect yourself, before meeting her eyes again.

“It’s everything.” you admit, your voice quieter now. “I just… I don’t know how this works. How we work.”

Agatha doesn’t respond. She just watches you, but there’s no rush in her gaze, no impatience—just a quiet expectation, as if she knows the words are there and trusts you to find them on your own.

Her unexpected steadiness makes something inside you loosen. For some reason, you thought Agatha might struggle with conversations like this—emotional topics, deep and vulnerable. It never seemed like her thing, at least in your mind.

But now, seeing her so composed, so unshaken by the storm you’ve brought to her, you realize that maybe she was expecting this, maybe she’s known this conversation was inevitable long before you did.

And somehow, her calm confidence makes it easier to breathe.

“I just…” you trail off, running a hand through your hair. “I need to know. When did this start? When did you start… feeling like this about me?”

Her brows lift slightly, and for a moment, genuine surprise flickers across her face. It vanishes as quickly as it came, replaced by that familiar smirk curling at the corner of her lips.

“That’s a tough one to answer.” she begins, her voice carrying a thoughtful edge. “It wasn’t some grand epiphany. More like… a collection of little moments, each one adding up until I couldn’t ignore them anymore.” 

There’s a faint trace of annoyance in her tone, not aimed at you but at the sheer audacity of the realization itself. Like the idea that you’ve been occupying so much space in her mind is a personal affront she’s still coming to terms with—and even now, it seems to bruise her pride just a little.

“Like what?” you press with quiet insistence, a thread of determination woven through the words.

Agatha tilts her head, her smirk softening as her gaze narrows, calculating. For a moment, she looks almost reluctant to speak, as if she’s weighing how much to tell you. 

“You remember that afternoon a couple of months ago,” she starts, her tone deceptively casual. “when you showed up drenched from head to toe? It was pouring outside, and you still walked in here grinning like an idiot, dripping all over my floors.”

You blink, caught off guard by the memory. “Yeah, what about it?”

“I thought to myself,” she murmurs, her eyes drifting as if replaying the scene, “how does someone look that damn happy while freezing and soaking wet? And why the hell can’t I stop staring at her?”

Her words hit like a punch to the gut, your cheeks heating as your gaze darts away from hers. Instinctively, you feel the urge to take a step back, a reflexive retreat from the intensity of the moment. 

But this time, Agatha reaches out, moving as though she’s read your mind. 

She leans forward slightly, her hand grazing your wrist as her fingers curl lightly around it, tugging with just enough firmness to pull you a fraction closer to her.

“And then…” she continues, her voice gaining that teasing edge that always leaves you off-balance, “You’d leave those little treats from the café on the kitchen table. Like some saintly delivery girl, making sure Nicholas had something sweet after school and I had something waiting for me after work. You didn’t think I noticed, did you?”

“I just thought—” you begin, stammering slightly, but she cuts you off with a wave of her hand.

“You thought I was too busy to notice, or that I didn’t care.” she says, her tone mockingly serious now, though her smirk never wavers.

Her fingers trail from your wrist to your hip as she speaks, and it takes a moment for you to realize you’ve unconsciously taken a step closer, the space between you narrowing with each passing second.

“And you,” she continues, her voice dipping lower, “always smelled like coffee after your morning shifts. That scent… it stuck with me. Sometimes I’d walk into the kitchen at night, hours after you left, and I could still smell it. God, I started to notice it everywhere. It drove me insane.”

Your breath catches at her words, and again as her other hand joins the first, both settling firmly on your hips. With a final, deliberate tug, she guides you into the space between her legs, her warmth radiating against you, drawing you into her orbit completely.

“And then there was last Friday night.” she breathes, her voice steeped in an intimacy that makes every word feel like a secret. “I came home and found you on the couch with Nicky curled up next to you. I stood there just staring at you both. I couldn’t stop thinking about how… safe he looked with you. How much he trusts you. How cute the two of you looked together like that.”

The weight of her words leaves you momentarily stunned, but before you can process them fully, a darker thought claws its way to the forefront of your mind.

“And the other Fridays?” you ask, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to keep it steady.

Her brow arches, and the sharpness in her expression returns, a glint of mischief sparking in her eyes. “What about them?”

“You know what I mean.” you say, crossing your arms tightly, trying to shield yourself from the sudden vulnerability you feel. “All those nights you came home late, looking… like that.”

Agatha sighs, the sound low and laced with mock boredom, yet the gentle squeeze of her hands on your hips betrays her true feelings—anything but indifferent. It’s not real annoyance, more a carefully crafted exasperation tinged with amusement, as if, deep down, she’s savoring how your relentless, probing questions are playing perfectly into her hands.

“Most of them were business dinners.” she says, her voice firm and matter-of-fact. “Clients, potential partners. Necessary evils, nothing exciting.”

“But not all of them.” you press, your voice sharper now, frustration lacing your words.

“No.” she remarks dryly. “Not all of them.”

“How many were dates?” you demand, the jealousy you’ve been trying to suppress bubbling to the surface hot and fast despite your best efforts to tamp it down.

“Does it matter?” she counters smoothly, her tone cool but not dismissive.

“It does to me.” you snap before you can stop yourself.

“Fine, a few. But none of them were serious, hon.” she says, and you could swear her voice is playful, almost teasing, as if she can sense the jealousy burning you alive and is enjoying every second of it.

“Define ‘serious.’” you scoff, your hands coming up to push lightly against her shoulders, but she doesn’t budge an inch.

“One dinner.” she states with a shrug, her tone infuriatingly calm and offhand. “Maybe some fun at their place afterwards, but that’s it. It was never anything more.”

Her honesty stings, even if it’s what you wanted, what you asked for. You look away, biting the inside of your cheek to keep the jealousy from overtaking you.

“And last Friday night?” you press, your voice barely above a whisper. The words feel heavy as they leave your lips, your pulse quickening with a mix of apprehension and the need to know. “What happened before you came home and found me and Nicky on the couch?”

Her grin turns inexplicably wicked as her hands slide lower to firmly your ass. With a deliberate tug, she pulls you flush against her, your hips colliding in a way that sends heat racing up your spine.

“Last Friday night was a date, sweetheart.” she begins, her tone maddeningly casual, like she’s recounting a a dull anecdote rather than making your blood boil. “She tried to kiss me outside the restaurant and invited me to her place.”

She pauses just long enough for the words to sink in, her eyes glinting with amusement as she gauges your reaction.

The words hit you like a cold gust of wind, and your chest tightens, jealousy fizzling hot and insistent in your stomach. Her nonchalance feels like a knife twisting, and you’re sure she can sense it, her smirk widening ever so slightly as her eyes lock onto yours.

You force yourself to hold her gaze, but the casual edge of her tone, the way she seems so unaffected, is almost too much to bear. A hundred thoughts race through your mind, each one more unbearable than the last. You’re not sure whether to scoff, snap, or step away, but before you can decide, Agatha’s voice cuts through the tension again.

“But…”

The word hangs in the air for a moment, and her expression shifts, the confidence that usually cloaks her like armor faltering ever so slightly. It’s subtle, but enough to make you feel the weight of whatever she’s about to say. 

She exhales through her nose, the hesitation palpable as though she’s debating whether to say the words out loud. 

When she finally does, her voice is lower, dipping into a gentleness that catches you completely off guard, each word laced with a quiet vulnerability that makes your heart stutter. 

“When I politely declined her offer… I called her by your name.”

You blink. Once. Twice. your brain firing on all cylinders yet somehow managing to stall completely. Surely, you must have misheard her.

And then she winks. And it’s game over.

Your eyes widen to comical proportions, your jaw drops like it’s auditioning for a slapstick comedy, and you’re pretty sure your entire face is now brighter than a chili pepper under a spotlight. 

At your reaction, Agatha’s smirk blossoms into its full, mischievous glory, positively dripping with wicked delight—a clear indicator that she’s savoring every second of your mental implosion.

“You what?!” you practically squawk, the words bursting out louder and more incredulous than you thought humanly possible.

Agatha chuckles, low and rich, the sound rolling over you like a warm wave. The sheer satisfaction glinting in her eyes is almost maddening, and her hands, still resting on your ass, shift slightly—her fingers brushing against the loose fabric of your shorts in a way that feels far too casual given the bombshell she just dropped.

“No, no, wait.” you stammer, still trying to process. “You’re telling me you, Agatha Harkness—confident, poised, never-misses-a-beat Agatha Harkness—actually called someone by the wrong name? My name? On a date? I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t exactly strike me as the type to… you know… trip over your own rizz like that.”

She tilts her head, one brow arching in mock warning as her eyes lock onto yours, a look that clearly says, Careful, hon, don’t push your luck. It’s playful, yes, but there’s just enough edge in her gaze to make your breath hitch, like she’s daring you to test her patience. 

“Trust me, sweetheart, no one was more surprised than me.” she admits with dry amusement as the faintest shrug rolls off her shoulders.

But there’s a betraying flicker in her eyes, a glimmer of self-deprecation, and you can tell she’s trying very hard to hold back laughter herself at this point.

“So, you’re standing there, at the end of your very hot date or whatever, and just—what? Randomly blurt out my name?” you ask, the teasing edge in your voice growing sharper as you fight the urge to giggle.

“It wasn’t quite like that.” she corrects, “We were outside the restaurant, and she leaned in—clearly angling for a kiss. I… stopped her before it went that far.” she continues as her smirk deepens. “But then she still invited me back to her place, and… well, that’s when it happened. Your name name came out instead of whatever hers was. Clear as day.”

The image plays out in your head: Agatha standing there with some impossibly glamorous woman, utterly composed until… she isn’t. The thought sends a strange mix of emotions swirling through you—jealousy, disbelief, and something dangerously close to triumph.

“Why didn’t you…?” you hesitate, your voice faltering as the question comes out before you can stop yourself. “Why didn’t you just go home with her?”

“It wouldn’t have made much sense, would it?” she replies with a shrug, as if you’ve just asked the most obvious question in the world.

“Why not?” you push, your heart pounding now.

“Because it wouldn’t have mattered. The whole date was a lousy attempt to stop thinking about the fact that I wanted my hot, younger babysitter.”

Your breath hitches, heat rushing to your face at her words. They land between you, heavy and electric, making it impossible to look away.

“And I knew,” she continues, her voice dropping to something almost conspiratorial, “that if I’d gone home with her, it wouldn’t have changed anything. I’d have spent the whole night imagining it was you. Hell, I spent the entire dinner doing that.”

The honesty in her words steals the breath from your lungs, leaving you momentarily stunned. Her confession is playful and teasing, but it’s also raw, stripped of any pretense, leaving no room for doubt.

“You’ve been in my head, sweetheart, for longer than you realize. Last Friday night just made it impossible to keep pretending otherwise.”, her words come out almost in a sigh, laced with exasperation, like this whole ordeal has been just as maddening for her as it has been for you.

Your thoughts are spinning, a chaotic swirl of emotions you can’t quite untangle, but the way she’s looking at you—steady, unshaken, and utterly sure—anchors you in place. Her gaze is magnetic, pulling you toward a singular truth that feels impossible to ignore, and there’s only one thing your mind is screaming at you to do.

Your hands fly to her neck, fingers tangling in the soft waves of her hair as your lips crash into hers. The kiss is anything but gentle—urgent, unrestrained, a collision of pent-up tension, jealousy and raw need. 

Agatha stiffens for a second, caught off guard, but the hesitation melts as quickly as it came.

She responds with equal fervor, her lips moving against yours with a commanding urgency that steals the breath from your lungs. When she finally breaks away, it’s not in retreat but with a low, surprised laugh that vibrates against your lips.

“Well.” she drawls, her voice roughened with amusement and provocation, her lips still brushing yours, “If jealousy makes you this needy, I might just make it a habit to mention my Friday nights more often.”

Your face burns as you glare at her, though the heat in your chest only intensifies. 

“Don’t even try it.” you snap, tugging slightly at her bottom lip with your teeth as your voice drops to a playful warning. “I mean it, Agatha.”

Agatha chuckles, the sound rumbling through her chest as one of her hands drifts from your hips to the front of your shorts, her fingers toying lazily with the waistband. 

The casual, almost absent motion ignites a wildfire beneath your skin, leaving every nerve alight and your body coiled tight with anticipation.

She slips one thigh between yours, nudging gently to widen your stance, and your hands instinctively clutch her shoulders for balance. Before you can steady yourself, her fingers dip beneath the fabric, brushing the edge of your panties.

Her smirk deepens, her eyes gleaming with sinful intent that sends a tremor through your knees, as if she’s already savoring the exact moment she’ll make you fall apart. 

“But baby…” she murmurs, leaning in until her lips brush the shell of your ear, her voice dropping into something dark and honey-sweet. “Needy looks sooo good on you”

Her voice alone sends a pulse straight to your core, and when her fingers dip lower, slipping past the edge of your panties to press against your soaked folds, the moan that rips from your throat is nothing short of pornographic.

You’re drenched, embarrassingly so, and the slick sound of her fingers gliding through your arousal only makes it worse. 

She doesn’t even try to conceal her delight, letting out a throaty, satisfied hum that vibrates against your skin. It’s a sound of pure indulgence, as though she’s reveling in the way your body responds so eagerly, so quickly, to her words, to her touches.

“Agatha—fuck!” you gasp, your voice trembling with a mix of need and protest as your hips buck involuntarily against her hand. “We’re not… we’re not done talking.”

Her lips curl into a grin as she pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, her eyes gleaming with a challenge as her fingers slide deeper, spreading your wetness with excruciatingly languid strokes.

“Oh, I know.” she purrs, her tone dripping with faux innocence as her fingers tease your entrance. “Go on, baby. Keep talking.”

“You can’t seriously expect me to—”

The sentence dies in your throat, replaced by a strangled moan as two fingers slide into you effortlessly. The sound of your wetness fills the room, obscene and loud, and you can’t stop the strangled cry that escapes when she curls her fingers just right.

“I’ve been patient, haven’t I?” she asks smoothly, her smirk widening as her thumb brushes a lazy, maddeningly light circle over your clit. “I’ve let you ask all your questions, answered them, and I’m still here for the rest. But…”. She punctuates her next words with a deep thrust, her palm grinding against your clit in a way that makes your breath hitch. “It’s time you start giving me something back, don’t you think?”

“Oh my God—fuck!” you groan, your head dropping to her shoulder as your hips grind against her hand, chasing the pleasure she’s so expertly coaxing from you. 

Your legs tremble, barely holding you up, and the wet, filthy sound of her fingers moving inside you makes your face burn with humiliation and need.

“That’s it.” she hums, her voice low and approving as her free hand moves to tangle in your hair, tilting your head so her lips graze your ear. “Be a good girl and try for me, mmh?”

“Agatha, please.” you whimper, your nails digging into her shoulders as your walls clench around her fingers. “I can’t—I can’t focus when you’re—mmh—when you’re doing that.”

“Sure, you can. And you will.” she murmurs, her thumb pressing harder against your clit in rhythm with her thrusts. “You’ll think, talk, listen, and take everything I’m giving you, just like the clever girl I know you are.”

Her praise is a double-edged sword, both a balm and a brand, sending warmth flooding through you while also igniting a stubborn need to meet her challenge. Gritting your teeth, you force your voice to form a single, coherent thought.

“N-nicholas.” you stammer, your voice barely intelligible as pleasure and worry collide in your chest. “What about—oh, fuck—what about Nicholas? What if— what if this messes everything up for him?”

Agatha’s smirk softens just slightly, though her fingers don’t falter, their pace steady and relentless.

“Nicholas is smarter than most adults, baby.” she murmurs, her voice impossibly calm and confident even as you whimper against her shoulder. “He’s practically a human lie detector. Honestly? I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already picked up on something.”

“Besides, he adores you.” she continues casually, as if you aren’t completely falling apart in her arms. “As long as we handle this carefully—and don’t, you know, start fucking in the living room while he’s watching cartoons—he’ll be fine.”

You let out a strangled laugh, though it quickly dissolves into a moan as her fingers curl deeper, hitting a spot that makes your entire body tense. 

“But—but what if he—oh my God—doesn’t take it well?”

“Sweetheart.” she murmurs, her free hand tilting your chin up to meet her gaze, her eyes impossibly tender yet razor-sharp. “Stop overthinking. We’ll handle it. Together.”

You nod weakly, unable to form a rational response as she quickens her pace, driving you closer to the edge with every thrust. 

But before you can let yourself fall completely into the haze of pleasure, another thought claws its way to the surface.

“And Rio?” you choke out, though your voice is barely a whisper now, trembling with the effort of holding on. “What happens when she—fuck—when she finds out?”

“Rio doesn’t have a say in my life anymore.” she drawls, her smirk widening into something downright predatory as her fingers thrust deeper, harder, drawing a strangled cry from your throat. “Sure, we keep things civil for Nicholas’s sake, but beyond that? She can think whatever she wants. It won’t change a damn thing.”

“But—but what if—mmh yes—what if she makes it hard for us?”

“What’s she gonna do, huh?” Agatha arches a brow, her free hand gripping your waist to steady you as your legs start to tremble. “Get all huffy and judgmental? Let her.”

Her confidence ripples through you, grounding and infuriating all at once, even as her pace grows brutal. Your walls clench tighter around her, the pressure in your belly building to an unbearable height. Yet one last question remains lodged in the back of your throat. 

When it finally tumbles out, your voice cracks under the weight of it. “And what if you… what if you get tired of me?”

Agatha freezes for a heartbeat, her gaze pinning yours in place with a fierce, almost dangerous intensity that takes your breath away.

“I won’t.” she snaps, her tone so firm, so unshakable, it’s as if the very idea is offensive.

Her gaze drops pointedly to where her fingers disappear into you, sliding out glistening before thrusting back in with a wet, filthy sound, over and over again.

“If you could see yourself right now—falling apart on my fingers, so perfect, so mine—you’d know just how impossible that question is.”

Her words land like a thunderclap and your body shudders violently, your legs trembling so hard you’re certain you’d collapse if it weren’t for the firm, possessive grip she keeps on your waist.

And then, as if to punish you for your suggestion, or perhaps to drive her point home with devastating clarity, she slides a third finger into you without warning. The stretch is intense, toeing the line between pleasure and overwhelming, and you let out a strangled cry that tears through the room.

Her thumb presses harder, faster, against your clit as her fingers work you open. It’s deliberate, merciless, as though she’s staking her claim in every possible way, daring you to question her devotion again.

“That’s it, baby.” she hums, her voice dark and velvety, her satisfaction palpable in the way her lips curl into a smirk against your temple. “Taking me so well… so fucking perfect.”

Her words only add fuel to the fire blazing inside you, and you’re helpless to stop the wrecked, broken moans spilling from your lips as her pace quickens. 

Your body arches involuntarily, seeking more, needing more, as the pressure builds impossibly higher, threatening to snap with every flick of her thumb and thrust of her fingers.

You silently call on every divine entity, ancient force, or cosmic fluke you can think of, just to ensure she’ll grant the desperate plea teetering on the edge of your lips.

“Please!” the word escapes you as a desperate sob, raw and aching as your hands clutch her shoulders. “Please, Agatha—fuck, I need to—”

“Come for me, baby.” her command cuts you off, slicing through the haze like a blade and shattering you completely. 

Your body seizes, the coil in your belly snapping violently as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, relentless and all-consuming. 

Wetness gushes from you, coating her hand and soaking the fabric of your shorts as she continues to work you through it, her fingers dragging unrelentingly along your walls, sending shivers through every nerve.

“Fuck, look at you.” she breathes, her tone edged with awe and sinful pride as your walls spasm around her fingers, gripping her so tightly it’s a wonder she can still move. “So messy for me.”

The intensity is almost unbearable, your cries escalating into a scream that rips from your throat as the pleasure crests in waves, each more powerful than the last. 

Agatha doesn’t let up, her movements steady and calculated, prolonging your pleasure until the last waves finally begin to ebb. 

Her hand on your waist tightens, grounding you as her lips press soft, soothing kisses along your jaw, a stark contrast to the raw intensity of what she’s just done to you.

As you collapse against her, your breathing ragged and uneven, she slows her fingers, her touch gentler now as she carefully withdraws, her hand glistening with your release. 

She presses a lingering kiss to your temple, her voice impossibly tender despite the smug satisfaction lacing it.

“See? I knew you could do it. Such a good girl for me.” she murmurs, her words a caress that feels like velvet against your frayed senses. 

Her free hand strokes slow, appeasing circles against your lower back, grounding you as the tremors in your body begin to ebb.

The room feels impossibly quiet now, the only sounds your labored breathing and the warm, satisfied chuckle that hums through Agatha’s chest.

“You’re insufferable.” you mumble weakly against her neck, your voice hoarse and cracked, though there’s a stifled laugh buried beneath the exhaustion.

“And yet….” she purrs, lifting your chin with a single, deft finger until your gaze meets hers. Her piercing eyes hold yours captive, but there’s a glimmer of something softer beneath the smirk curling at her lips—something achingly tender, almost reverent. “Here we are.”

Her thumb brushes over your cheek, the simple, affectionate gesture robbing you of what little breath you’ve managed to reclaim. 

You blink up at her, still dazed, a faint, incredulous smile pulling at your lips.

“Here we are,” you echo, your voice trembling but steady enough to carry the weight of a moment that feels suspended in time.

It’s a connection that needs no embellishment, one that feels intimate and inevitable, like it had been quietly waiting for the two of you all along.

The rest of Sunday unfolds in a blissful, lazy haze. 

After the emotionally charged conversation in the morning, the day slows to a gentle rhythm. Agatha suggests a walk to clear your heads, and the two of you meander through a nearby park. 

The air is crisp, the sun peeking through the clouds as you stroll side by side, talking about nothing in particular—favorite seasons, forgotten childhood stories, ridiculous hypotheticals. 

It feels easy, natural, like you’ve been doing this forever.

Back at home, the afternoon fades into evening. You help Agatha prepare a simple dinner, and she insists on pouring you a glass of wine while you work. 

Later, the two of you curl up on the couch, a movie playing on the screen, your head resting on her shoulder. The sound of her quiet laughter at the film’s witty dialogue makes your heart ache with something sweet and new.

But the serenity is interrupted by the unmistakable sound of the front door opening. Nicholas bursts in, his bag slung over his shoulder, his cheeks flushed from the cool evening air. 

Rio follows, her gaze sweeping briefly between you and Agatha, lingering just long enough to convey a subtle curiosity, before she offers a polite nod. Bending slightly, she presses a kiss to Nicholas’s cheek, her voice soft as she wishes him goodnight. 

Without another word, she straightens, casting one final glance in your direction, then strides out the door with the same poised elegance she carried in.

“Hey, kiddo!” Agatha calls out, sitting up slightly but keeping her arm draped over the back of the couch, her fingers brushing your shoulder.

Nicholas closes the door and freezes the second he turns, his eyes darting between the two of you. 

His brow furrows, and then, with his hereditary dramatic flair, he lets out a loud, exaggerated sigh.

“Finally!” he groans, dropping his bag on the floor with a thud. “I was wondering when you two were gonna figure it out.”

You blink, startled. “Wait—what?”

Agatha’s smirk is instant, her lips curling as she leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “What do you mean, ‘figure it out,’ Nicky?”

He rolls his eyes with as if the answer is painfully obvious. 

“I mean the two of you! You’re always talking about each other and asking me stuff.” he quips, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “You’re like, ‘What’s your mom’s favorite breakfast?’, and Mom’s like, ‘Do you think she likes scary movies?’. Ugh, it was soooo annoying.”

Nicholas shakes his head, letting out another dramatic sigh as if he’s been a long-suffering martyr to your mutual pining. 

From beside you, you hear the unmistakable sound of a small snort escaping Agatha.

Heat floods your cheeks as you glance at her, but it only makes her grin widen. She arches a single, perfectly smug eyebrow at you, her expression dripping with satisfaction.

“Told you.” she says simply, giving an exaggerated shrug.

You cover your face with your hands, groaning. “This is mortifying.”

Agatha’s laughter fills the room, warm and unrestrained. She reaches out to tug one of your hands away from your face, her thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gesture so casual yet affectionate it leaves you breathless.

After that day, You and Agatha decide to take things slow, despite the months you’ve already spent orbiting each other. You want to step out of the roles you’ve occupied—Nicholas’s babysitter, his mom—and discover who you are to each other beyond that.

At first, you were almost afraid. Afraid that someone like Agatha, who seemed so independent and unapologetically confident, might be all fire and intensity, with little space for tenderness beyond fleeting moments. 

But slowly, carefully, she proves you wrong.

When Agatha loves, you realize, she doesn’t hold back. She loves with her entire being, fiercely yet gently, as though nothing outside the world she’s built around you truly matters.

Sure, the sex is breathtaking—raw, unrestrained, and unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. But with Agatha, it’s so much more than that. 

She doesn’t just make you feel wanted, she makes you feel profoundly seen, utterly cherished. Every touch carries intention, every kiss a pledge of devotion.

She quickly learns your body like a map, her fingers and lips tracing each curve with reverence, savoring every discovery as though unveiling a hidden treasure meant only for her.

But beyond the fiery passion, there’s an unexpected warmth, a softness that takes you by surprise. 

Her teasing sarcasm and sharp wit—cornerstones of who she is—remain ever-present, capable of making you groan in exasperation one moment and laugh until your sides ache the next. 

And yet, as new facets of her emerge, they gradually begin to share space with so much more.

At night, when the world is quiet, Agatha reveals a rare, thoughtful vulnerability, speaking of the things that scare her or the mistakes she’s afraid of repeating.

In the evenings, she pulls you onto the couch, wrapping you in her arms as she teases you about your movie choices, only to stay glued to the screen the entire time.

In the middle of an argument, even when her irritation is clear and the sharpness in her tone feels like a shield she’s reluctant to lower, her gaze softens. Against her own nature, she takes a breath, letting the frustration ebb just enough to say, “I’m listening, go on.” It’s not easy for her, you can see that—but she tries. She chooses to stay, to listen, to understand, even when every instinct might tell her to close off.

Each moment is a small glimpse into a side of her that feels like a gift, a quiet affirmation that she is so much more than you ever imagined.

You also come to realize, that Agatha, for all her snarky remarks and commanding presence, craves affection too. 

She’ll never say it outright, of course, but the way she seeks those little moments of closeness gives her away every time.

The way she tucks you closer to her chest in the morning, long before the rest of the world is awake. The way her hand brushes your hair back as you lean over a book, a casual touch that lingers just a second too long. The way she kisses your temple absentmindedly as she passes you in the kitchen. The way her fingers trail down your arm before settling on your waist as you both stand in the backyard at night, watching Nicholas excitedly point out constellations while Agatha murmurs their names with a quiet smile. The way her fingers softly brush against yours when she hands you a cup of coffee.

These aren’t grand gestures—they’re quiet, unspoken reminders of how deeply she cares. They’re Agatha’s way of saying what she can’t always put into words, of reaching for connection in ways that feel achingly sincere.

Agatha surprises you constantly. 

She starts showing up at the café during your morning shifts, always impeccably dressed, her heels clicking against the tile floor as she strides in like she owns the place. 

“I’m between meetings” she claims casually, though you notice she always stays just long enough to leave your coworkers flustered and whispering about ‘the gorgeous older woman’ who sits at the corner table, sipping her black coffee and glancing at her phone like she has nowhere better to be.

When she catches you watching her from behind the counter, her smirk is instant, as if to say, Yes, hon, I know I’m distracting you. And it never fails to make your pulse race.

She spoils you shamelessly, too. Thoughtful gifts appear with alarming regularity—books she’s noticed you eyeing, a beautiful scarf she swears “just screamed your name,” or your favorite pastries from a bakery across town. 

“Stop fussing.” she says one evening as you eye the expensive wine she’s ordered at a rooftop restaurant. The city lights glitter around you, and the cool night air brushes your cheeks. “You deserve it.”

You roll your eyes but lean in to kiss her anyway, her hand slipping up to cup your cheek. Her smile softens, that guarded edge melting just enough to reveal the depth of her affection, and your heart aches in the best way.

For Agatha, you could have stopped working altogether if you wanted to. She made it clear from the beginning that money would never be an issue, brushing off the idea as though it was laughable. 

Still, you hold onto your job at the café. It keeps you busy in the mornings, gives you a sense of independence, and lets you stash away some savings of your own. Besides, you’ve worked there so long it feels strange to think about leaving.

At the same time, you insist on keeping your part-time babysitting job, though you flat-out refuse to let her pay you anymore.

That particular conversation becomes a recurring battle. One day, however, you reach your limit.

It’s the umpteenth time Agatha offers to pay you for the hours you spend with Nicky. She leans casually against the doorframe as you fold Nicholas’s laundry, her voice calm but insistent, a mix of exasperation and charm she wields far too well.

You freeze mid-fold, the heat of your frustration bubbling over.

“Agatha, I swear to God, if you bring this up one more time…” you snap, throwing a pair of socks straight at her chest with uncharacteristic force.

Her smirk falters as she catches them, her eyes widening at the sharpness in your voice.

“You’re seriously yelling at me over socks?” she quips, clearly thrown off but still managing to sound incredulous.

“I’m yelling because I’m done with this conversation.” you fire back, your voice louder than you intended. “I’m not taking your money for this anymore. Period. End of story. Got it?”

Agatha blinks, stunned into silence. It’s not often you raise your voice, and judging by her expression, she doesn’t quite know what to do with it. 

After a long, weighted pause, she finally lets out an exaggerated sigh, her shoulders slumping dramatically as she tosses the socks back at you.

“Well, you’re impossible.” she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest as she leans back against the doorframe with a look of mock irritation. “I can’t win with you.”

You narrow your eyes at her, still fuming, but the hint of a grin tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“You already have.” you mutter, chucking another pair of socks her way.

This time, her smirk returns in its full glory. She catches the socks with ease, her expression relaxing as she throws them back with a playful flick of her wrist. “Flatterer.”

After that conversation, the balance you strike feels so natural, so effortlessly right, that it’s hard to remember a time when things were any different.

You spend your mornings at the café, while most of your afternoons are dedicated to Nicholas. Over time, Agatha begins working from home more often, and those afternoons blend seamlessly into dinners shared around the table, followed by evenings that melt into cozy, lazy hours on the couch. 

Even if you don’t see her much while she works—her door often closed as she immerses herself in work—there’s something undeniably comforting about knowing she’s just upstairs. 

It’s in the faint hum of her voice during a call, the creak of floorboards as she shifts her chair, or the brief moments when she steps out to grab coffee, check on Nicholas, or steal a quick kiss from you in the kitchen. 

Her presence lingers throughout the house, steady and grounding, offering a quiet reassurance you hadn’t realized you craved.

The roles you once played haven’t disappeared, but they’ve shifted, harmonizing gracefully into this new dynamic that feels equal parts exciting and comforting.

Agatha doesn’t push you to redefine everything overnight, doesn’t demand more than you’re ready to give. Instead, she meets you where you are, and together, you explore the space between who you were before and who you’re becoming now.

Five months in, Agatha brings it up over breakfast.

“You know…” she begins casually, buttering her toast with the kind of ease that suggests she isn’t about to change your life forever, “it’d make a lot more sense if you just lived here.”

You nearly choke on your coffee, coughing and setting the mug down with a sharp clink. “Are you—are you serious?”

She looks up from her plate, her expression calm but her eyes warm, filled with a certainty that grounds you even as your heart races. “Of course. It feels right, doesn’t it?”

It does. Deep down, you’d known for a while now that this was where you belonged. Still, hearing it aloud, from her, catches you off guard. But there’s no hesitation when you answer.

“Yes.” you say, the word coming out soft but steady. “It does.”

Everything falls into place with an almost disarming simplicity and, by the end of the weekend, your things are integrated seamlessly into her home. 

Your favorite mug finds a spot on her kitchen shelf, your books line the living room walls alongside hers, and the faint scent of your perfume lingers in her bedroom.

Nicholas adjusts effortlessly, almost as if he’d been waiting for this to happen all along. The three of you settle into a domesticity that feels natural, filled with laughter, shared meals, and quiet moments.

Even Rio seems unbothered when she comes to pick Nicholas up on the weekends. She exchanges polite words with you, her demeanor perfectly cordial, before whisking him away for their outings. 

Whatever tension you’d feared never materializes, leaving you to wonder if Agatha had talked to her privately or if Nicholas, in his own way, had smoothed the path between you.

On Saturday mornings, Nicholas claims the kitchen as his domain, declaring himself “Head Pancake Chef” as you and Agatha lounge at the table, sipping coffee and exchanging amused glances while he works.

In the evenings, after Nicholas has gone to bed, the two of you often find yourselves curled up together on the couch, her arm draped lazily over your shoulders as you share quiet conversation, watch a movie or simply sit in comfortable silence.

Every day, every moment, strengthens the sense that this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

Yet, for months, you’ve held onto your old apartment, keeping it as a safety net—a place to retreat to if things fell apart, if Agatha ever grew tired of you, if it all turned out to be too good to be true. 

You’d told yourself it was practical, that it didn’t mean anything. But deep down, you’d known it was fear keeping you tethered to the space.

One random evening, everything changes.

It’s late, and the house is quiet. You and Agatha are curled up on the couch, one arm draped around your shoulders as you trace lazy circles on the back of her hand. There’s an ease between you, the kind that has grown naturally over the months.

Out of nowhere, she murmurs, “I love you.”

The words land softly but powerfully, knocking the air from your lungs. 

You freeze, your hand stilling on hers as your mind races. For a brief moment, you think you’ve imagined it, your own thoughts playing tricks on you.

But then you glance up, and she’s watching you. Her expression is open yet achingly vulnerable, her lips slightly parted as if she’s bracing herself for your reaction, the faintest flush coloring her cheeks.

Agatha Harkness, who exudes confidence and poise in every other moment, suddenly looks almost shy.

Your heart swells, the response spilling out without hesitation. “I love you too, Agatha. So much.”

Her eyes widen briefly before a slow, radiant smile spreads across her face, lighting her up in a way you’ve never seen before.

She leans in, her movements deliberate yet tender, and when her lips meet yours, it’s as if the world tilts on its axis.

The kiss starts soft, her lips warm and gentle against yours. But it deepens quickly, her hand coming up to cradle the side of your face, her thumb brushing your cheek.

You feel her smile against your lips, a small, unguarded curve that sends warmth flooding through you. When she finally pulls back, her forehead rests lightly against yours, her hand lingering on your cheek as if she’s reluctant to let go. 

Her eyes search yours, glowing with a mix of joy and relief, and you realize that this moment, this love, is as real as it gets.

The next morning, you list your apartment for sale.

Weeks later, it sells, and it’s time to clear it out for good. Agatha insists on coming with you to help despite your protests that there isn’t much left to do, since most of your things had already made their way to her house when you moved in.

Together, you sift through the last remnants of your belongings—forgotten trinkets in the back of drawers, mismatched furniture that doesn’t fit anywhere anymore, and boxes filled with things you can’t remember why you kept.

As you bend down to pick up one of the boxes, you feel the weight of her gaze on you. By the time you straighten, she’s right there—closer than she was a moment ago—her hand curling possessively around your waist, her presence electric.

“What if…” she murmurs, her lips grazing your ear as her fingers slide to the small of your back, “We give this place a proper send-off.”

Before you can respond, her mouth is on yours, claiming and insistent. The kiss is searing, a collision of teeth and tongues that leaves you breathless as she presses you back against the nearest wall.

“Agatha—fuck!” you gasp as her hands wander, gripping your hips and pulling you flush against her. “We’re supposed to be clearing out, not—” your voice falters as her lips graze your neck, stealing your train of thought entirely.

“Oh, we will.” she purrs, her voice dripping with wicked intent. “After.”

What follows is nothing short of ruinous. She doesn’t just touch you—she consumes you, her hands, mouth, and body working in perfect, devastating harmony to claim every inch of you.  

She starts in the kitchen, bending you over the counter with a commanding ease that makes your breath hitch. Her nails dig into your hips as her fingers slide into you, relentless and thorough, her mouth hot and demanding against your neck. The slick sound of her movements mixes with the sharpness of your cries, echoing off the bare walls as her pace quickens, leaving you breathless and clawing for the edge.

In the living room, she pushes you down onto the couch—the same one where you once sat alone, overthinking everything. Now, it’s where she strips you bare and buries her head between your thighs, her tongue working with maddening precision. She doesn’t stop, even as your hips buck against her mouth, her grip on your thighs unrelenting. When you fall apart, her name breaking from your lips, she takes it all, her smirk sinful as she looks up, licking her lips like she’s savoring every second.

Even the bedroom—now a sparse, nearly empty space that offers no distractions—doesn’t escape her attention. She pins you to the mattress with a ferocity that leaves no doubt as to who you belong to, her name a broken mantra on your lips as her pace builds, her body pressing against yours in a way that demands surrender. Her fingers push you over the edge again and again, each climax leaving you trembling and weak, her breath hot on your skin as she praises you through the haze of pleasure.

By the time she’s done with you, every surface bears the evidence of her passion, and you’re left spent, boneless, and utterly wrecked in her arms.

Later, as you sit on the floor together eating takeout amidst the remaining boxes, she looks over at you with a satisfied smirk.

“So…” she says, her voice a lazy drawl. “Think you’ll miss this place?”

You laugh, shaking your head as you lean into her side. “Not even a little.”

Because your home isn’t a space anymore—it’s her.

Exactly one year after that Sunday morning when everything changed, you find yourself reflecting on how far you’ve come.

It’s Friday night and you’re sitting at a cozy restaurant, the golden glow of candlelight reflecting off Agatha’s beautiful features. Her hand brushes against yours on the table, her touch as natural and grounding as the rhythm of your breaths.

Fridays used to be a minefield, an endless loop of questions you were too afraid to ask, feelings you didn’t dare name. You remember those nights vividly, steeped in quiet agony, where every thought, every fleeting moment tied to Agatha—her voice, her gaze, her very presence—was laced with an ache so consuming it felt impossible to escape. 

At times, you can still taste the bitter certainty that nothing you longed for could ever be within reach. Looking back, though, you almost laugh. 

Agatha had nearly driven you insane with her looks, her touches, her maddeningly unreadable smirks. You’d been so sure you were imagining it all, you’d almost lost your mind trying to figure her out.

But now, Fridays have transformed into something else entirely. They’ve become a ritual of joy and love.

They’re your nights. Date nights. Moments stolen just for the two of you while Nicholas stays with Rio or a babysitter. Whether it’s a fancy dinner in the city or a quiet evening at home, these Fridays are sacred.

You glance across the table at Agatha, who’s sipping her wine, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. 

Her smirk curls in that way you know will always make your stomach flip, no matter how many times you see it. But there’s a softness behind it now, a tenderness she doesn’t bother hiding anymore.

“What’s that look for?” she asks, her voice low and familiar, the sound of it wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

You smile, bliss flooding your chest. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes in mock disbelief, but the way her thumb strokes the back of your hand betrays her. 

“You’re insufferable.” she mutters, though her tone holds no bite.

“And yet…” you tease, leaning forward slightly, your voice dipping conspiratorially, “Here we are.”

Her lips twitch as though she’s fighting a full smile, and for a moment, you both laugh, the kind of easy, unguarded laughter that fills every quiet corner of your heart.

And as you sit there, her hand in yours and the echoes of your journey fading into the warmth of the present, a quiet certainty blooms within you: you can’t wait to see where this love leads.

[ssentimentals]

hi! nini! i really liked how u write scoups promptsss… can i request for scoups 25 & 37 suggestive? i feel like this could go together. thank u, nini! have a great day! ><

hihi! aw, thank you!! i do think that cheol is the member that i find easier to write because in my delulu mind i think i get him correctly the most out of all guys :D thank you for requesting and have a great day too! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

suggestive prompt: 'sit down. now.' - 'watch your tone.'

oh, the urge to stand up, throw pillows from sofa to the ground and storm away with a head held high. oh, the urge to slam the door so loudly that windows will shake and all neighbours will startle in surprise. oh, the urge to hear seungcheol's answering groan and see his pissed off face. those urges are so strong that you almost make them all come true. almost. because when you spring up from the sofa, breathing fire from anger, seungcheol grabs your wrist before you can even do anything else and looking you into the eyes mutters darkly: 'sit down. now.'

his commanding tone never fails to send shivers up your spine, but you ignore it, sitting back down on the sofa. but a proud warrior doesn't go down without a fight, so you snark: 'how tables have turned, right? now you understand what it felt like last time, when you tried to leave? not so nice, does it?'

seungcheol narrows his eyes, squinting at you with a barely hidden annoyance. 'can you shut up for a second and let me talk?'

this time you glare at him, shaking his hand off your wrist. 'watch your tone, cheol. and don't tell me to shut up.'

seungcheol looks like he's not sure whether he wants to kiss you senseless to shut you up or if walking away right now seems to be a better decision. his left eye twitches and you try hard not to laugh, but he of course, notices. 'is all of this funny to you?' he asks, sliding up closer to you. 'you find this amusing?'

'i find you idiotic,' you retort haughtily, ignoring how he places his hand at your back. 'and very stupid.'

'good to know.' seungcheol hums, caressing your back gently and smirking, when you lean to the touch just a little. 'anything else you want to comment?'

smile wins over your features, when he cages you with his weight, not giving you any opportunities to run. locking your hands behind his neck, you pretend to think hard about it. 'hm, let's see. i think you're a sore loser, who can't bear to lose a fight to his girlfriend.'

seungcheol snorts and shakes his head. he leans in, kissing your forehead. 'what else?'

he starts peppering your whole face with kisses and you forget your train of thought; some really comebacks were ready but now your head is full of something else. 'you're even bigger idiot than i thought if you won't take me to bed now,' you settle for this at last, flushing from his intense gaze.

seungcheol smiles and lifts you up along with him, making you laugh with his: 'good thing i'm not a big idiot then.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Killing Time 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, includes violence, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: a job offer could be an escape from your old life, but the new one, may not hold freedom.

Characters: Kraven the Hunter, August Walker, Lloyd Hansen, James Conrad, God the Bounty Hunter, Court Gentry

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

Your frustration mounts as you click the permissions again to allow the camera and microphone access. It’s so annoying! It just keeps running you in circles. Great. This is off to a good start. Late for the interview. That’s always the best first impression. 

When at last your firewall stops blocking the call, you flinch at the sight of yourself in the corner. You’re further jarred by the man staring back at you. Your mouth opens and for a moment, you’re frozen. You were so focused on troubleshooting, you forgot about what was waiting on the other end. 

“Oh, hi,” you squeak. “Sorry, I--” you look around, glancing through the clear walls of the library study room. It’s the first time you’ve been to this branch but you didn’t think the clutter of your apartment would make a good backdrop. “I was having issues with my camera.” 

“Quite alright,” he responds with a grin and a lilted accent. He sounds as professional as he looks. 

He wears a grey jacket over a muted teal shirt that lights up his eyes, even over the screen. His short hair is combed back neatly and there’s not a speck of stubble on his jaw. Under the structure of his attire you can tell he’s well-built. 

You resist the urge to look down at yourself. A white blouse. Boring but professional. It gets the job done. Hopefully. 

You force a smile. 

“Thank you for meeting with me,” he begins through your nervous silence. “I do appreciate your time and I would hate to waste it. So, we can hop right in.” He looks unflinchingly into the camera, “oh, let us not go so far past courtesy. I am James, we’ve been corresponding, yes?” 

“Uh, yeah, I remember. James.” You gulp. 

He says your name with a keen inclination. “This is rather not the position which requires those cliche questions so I won’t trouble you with asking what animal best reflects your personality.” 

You cough out a humouring chuckle and fold your hands on the desk. 

“Forgive if I should seem to the point. You see, it’s a very practical position. I think it’s best we go over what is expected before we go into the finer details; expenses, relocation, dates--” 

“Mm,” you squeak and put a finger up, “s-sorry, um, I thought we were interviewing but it sound like you’ve made a decision?” 

“Well, yes, I’ve reviewed your CV and your submitted profile and your answers to the questionnaire were acceptable. I didn’t think there was much else to consider,” he intones. You shift and try to hide your surprise. 

“No, of course, that makes sense,” you say. “Thanks, I guess I was confused.” 

“Not to worry. I find that written communication can often lack clarity so I thought it best we have a face-to-face in this circumstance,” he looks down as if he has a book or paper before him. “So, did you have any questions before I proceed?” 

“No, no, really, I'm sure you’ll answer them all.” Your cheeks bloom in a half-smile. You were so nervous about getting the job but you’ve already got it. 

“Right then,” he sits back and once more stares down the camera. “It is a very old property but the upkeep has been consistent. There should not be any glaring necessities for maintenance, this more of a custodial position. So, you would be the one to keep the place clean, make sure it is aired out, tend to the lawns but we do employ a grounds keeping service that comes fortnightly to trim.” 

You nod. It’s intriguing. You were sent photos of the property but you’re not quite sure of its purpose. Judging by the clustered pines in the background, you would guess it’s remote. A getaway that could be a goldmine for those wanting a vacation from the urban jungle. 

“You would have a roster, you see, of those you could contact for service so you will not require any specialisations. You are the day-to-day and would be expected to bring in the appropriate support for higher-touch difficulties.” 

“Right,” you try not to show your anxiety. 

“Albeit I should warn you that the reception in that location is not the greatest so if you cannot call out, you would need to keep trying. It will eventually catch but uh, not to mind, as long it is attended is what matters, not when,” he says.  

“Mhm, that makes sense. Um, can I ask what the property is? Is it like a summer home or...” 

“Ah, family inheritance,” he answers primly. “I’ve not much use for it past the sentimental value and I thought of leasing it for traveling parties but I’ve heard horror stories. Right now, I’m merely sitting on it until I figure out exactly what to do with it.” 

“Oh, right. Wow. Quite the inheritance.” 

“Hm, yes, my uncle did rather adore me. I was the only one named in his will but he was a bit of a curmudgeon.” He laughs. “Now, I must ask the most important question--” 

Before he can, the door swings open and you jump in your seat. Your heart sinks. You signed the room out for ninety minutes. You thought it would be more than enough. Surely it hasn’t been that long. 

Shoot. It’s him. How did he find you? You deliberately went out of your way so that he couldn’t. 

“Jake,” you stand and turn to him, trying to block the computer. “What are you doing?” 

“There you are,” he touches his chest as if he should be the one so afraid. “You didn’t come home--” 

You growl and cross your arms. 

“Jake, go away,” you grit out. “Not right now. Please.” 

“I had to make sure you’re okay,” he steps into the room and you push yourself back against the table. “Who else is going to look after you?” 

“I will scream, alright,” you warn. “Now leave me alone. I’m tired of telling you.” 

He sighs and his jaw squares. “I don’t get you. You act like I’m such a bad guy and I haven’t done anything to you. I never hurt you but you hurt me. You just spit in my face--” 

“Pardon,” the voice rises from the speaker at your back. “If I may, she is occupied and you are interrupting. I have a mind to contact emergency service should you persist.” Your mouth falls open and you turn to look at your laptop. James leans forward to glare at the lens, “Not sure who you are, fellow, but the lady has been clear.” 

“Who-- who is he?” Jake sputters. 

“Please, just go,” you plead. “Or I will call the police.” 

Little good they will do, you think, but that doesn’t need to be said aloud. 

He frowns and his eyes glint dangerously. You stare back at him, tense, fingers curling and uncurling nervously. That man on the screen won’t stop him and you don’t know if anyone would hear you from the desk. 

“Fine, guess I’ll see ya around,” he relents and backs out. 

You don’t move until he snaps the door shut. You hurry over and twist the lock on the inside. You don’t know why you didn’t do that before. 

“Are you alright?” James asks, drawing you back to the desk. 

You sit and look at the keyboard, “I’m very sorry. I...” 

“He doesn’t sound like a friend,” James says. You shake your head. “Well, then, it does sound like you’re in need of a fresh start. I do hope this can be that for you.” 

You look up and bat away the glimmer on the brims of your eyes. You’re not just afraid, you’re embarrassed. His kindness is as comforting as it is unexpected. 

“Thanks, um, anyway...” you exhale, “you were going to ask something.” 

“Yes, uh, yes, I was,” he reconfigures and puts another smile on. “When can you depart? I would of course arrange travel to be sure you get here safe and sound.” 

“Oh, when... whenever is best. Not to be too desperate but as soon as possible,” you say. 

“Wonderful,” he praises, “absolutely wonderful. Is tomorrow too soon? Pardon my own desperation.” 

“Tomorrow?” You utter and shake your head. “Tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow.”  

It's sudden and scary but it’s good. The sooner you go, the less time Jake has to figure out what you’re doing. The less chance he can follow. It’s an escape. Not a perfect one but it’s all you have. 

🩸

You spend all night packing. You parse down what you have to the essentials and put the rest in bags. You don’t care about the furniture. You say as much in your email to your landlord, telling him to use your deposit for the disposal. 

You whittle your life down to three bags. A large suit case, a knapsack, and a single purse. You have it ready to go by the door. 

You feel uneasy about it. You stare at your luggage, the lights off, windows closed. Your phone buzzes and you put it to silent, ignoring the messages from your personal pest. You’ll be done with him too. You wonder if you should just toss your cell. 

You don’t sleep. You can’t. You still can’t believe you’re getting out. You hope you haven’t given the game away. 

There’s a tap on the window. You nearly roll onto the floor. You look over and hear it again, a harder impact. Are you serious? He’s throwing stones. He could break the damn glass. 

You shake your head. You won’t fall for it. Not again. You remember when he came to your door and cried until you opened up. He even smeared ketchup on his face to make you think he was hurt. It’s hard to tell the difference through a peephole. 

Almost there. Almost out. You just need to make it a few more hours. 

As you ignore the incessant tapping and the light of your phone glowing ever few minutes, your thoughts turn bitter. You should message everyone who turned their back on you and tell them exactly what they’ve put you through. Somehow, you think they’d care as much as they did before. 

Sleep eludes you but a foggy daze comes over you as the windows soften with the early morning. There’s no more pebbles bouncing off the pane. Just you and the buzz of the sleeping city. 

Your alarm chimes and you get up as your head pulses. You’re used to the constant fatigue. It will ease up and you’ll just feel a bit heavy. When it’s normal, you don’t notice as much. 

You get ready and have an instant coffee by the door. James messages just before nine. Your car will be there in ten. Oh, early. You don’t mind about that. 

You won’t go out and wait. You’ll stay here, where it’s safe. 

When your phone goes off again, you expect it to be Jake. It’s James. Whew. You’re so close, you can’t believe it. 

You grab your knapsack and purse, and drag your suitcase out behind you. You lock the door and throw the key through the mail slot. You hurry down the hall and take the stairs over the elevator.  

You don’t look back or anyway but forward. You look at your cell. 'Black Jaguar’ followed by a plate number. Jaguar? Holy moly. 

The tinted window rolls down and reveals the same face from the Zoom call. You didn’t know he was coming himself. You assumed he was sending a cab or something. You slow as you come out the door. He smiles and pops open the door. 

Before you can come forward, another figure appears, blocking your way. 

“Hey, I've been calling all night,” Jake says. You stop short and nearly yelp. Of course! 

“Jake, move.” 

“Where are you going?” He looks at your bags desperately. “Wait, you can’t--” 

“Pardon me, sir, is there some issue?” James strides up behind him. 

Jake turns to face him and stiffens, “and who are you—wait, you’re that guy from the computer.” 

“I’m none of your business, as is her life,” James insists. “Now, seems you’re used to picking on those smaller than you but let’s see how you do against me?” 

James steps closer. He’s a few inches taller than Jake. You can’t move as they stare each other down. You wait, expecting chaos. 

“I was only talking,” Jake shows his palms and shrugs. “It’s whatever. She’s a bitch anyways.” 

He turns and snarls over his shoulder at you. You back up. As Jake turns, he’s knocked off kilter as James hurls his fist into his jaw. The shorter man staggers and falls to one knee, catching himself in the grass. 

“Well, that was a lovely chat,” James smirks and beckons to you, “shall we?” 

[littlefireball]

Heyy congrats for 500!!🎊🎉

So for your event, can you do san+e2l+werewolf au+smut please?? Thank you in advence 💜

ᴄꜱ|[ᴍ]|ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴜɴᴅ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ

ᴡᴇʀᴇᴡᴏʟꜰ ꜱᴀɴ x ᴡᴇʀᴇᴡᴏʟꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ꜰᴛ.ʏᴜɴʜᴏ)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ʟᴏɴɢ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ~(ᴜɴʀᴇQᴜɪᴛᴇᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ//ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀꜱ…ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴏʟᴅ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ?ɪᴅᴋ ʜᴀʜᴀ)//ꜱʟᴏᴡ ʙᴜʀɴ//ᴍᴀɴʏ ꜰʟɪʀᴛɪɴɢ (ɪ ɢᴜᴇꜱꜱ?)

ʟᴏɴɢ~ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ᴏʀᴀʟ|ᴅᴏᴍ & ꜱᴜʙ?|ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴀʜʜ…?|ᴋɴᴏᴛᴛɪɴɢ|ᴍᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ|ᴄʀᴇᴀᴍᴘɪᴇ|ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ…(ʜᴍᴍ…ꜱᴏ ᴍᴀʏ. ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴀᴢʏ ᴛᴏ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ʟᴏʟ) (ᴀ/ɴ: ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍʟʏ ɴᴀᴍᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀᴛᴇᴇᴢ)

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 11.8ᴋ (ᴡᴏᴡ…ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏɴɢᴇꜱᴛ ꜰɪᴄ ᴇᴠᴇʀ)

Summary: You had harbored a crush on Yunho for quite some time, even though they knew they weren't each other's destined mates. She thought her affection would persist indefinitely, unaware that the arrival of a woman would be the catalyst for her heartbreak. That is until your enemy, San appeared, reigniting the fire in her heart.

(a/n: This fanfic is really long lol. I originally wanted to shorten it, but there are a lot of things I want to add.  This is the plot that inspired me when I was playing c.ai. I like it so much that I have always wanted to write about it.  Although I don't think many people will read or like this article, I'll still post it🫠.  Also, I haven't had much interest in writing lately (again!). Inspiration is so fickle, and my traffic has dropped a lot.🥲  So these may be the last few fanfics (there is still a request that has not been written). Anyway, thank you all for your support.）

You find yourself perched on the soft, empty grass, your gaze tracing the movements of a tall figure in the distance. It's Yunho, the heir to your clan's leader and your childhood best friend. Each time his eyes inadvertently lock with yours, a flutter of excitement stirs in your heart, and a smile tugs at your lips without your consent. 

You had feelings for him, yet the harsh truth remains: he was not your mate. This reality became painfully clear in the first transformation, yet you refused to relinquish your hopes, clinging to this unrequited love. Perhaps this is your quiet rebellion against the whims of fate, even if it seems utterly foolish and pathetic.

"Hey, dumbass. Watching your favourite prince practicing?" Suddenly, an annoying voice pierced the air from behind you. Your wolf ears perked up, detecting the sound of approaching footsteps. Great, it was him again—the bully from the Wonderland clan, Choi San. 

You hated him. A Lot. He always treated you like some kind of plaything, constantly teasing you. It felt like he was a ghost, popping up wherever you went, almost like he was stalking you. You really wished you had killed him in last year's match. If you had just been a bit more ruthless, you wouldn't be dealing with this mess. But that's just a fantasy you tell yourself.

"No matter how much you like him, he won't like you back. Idiot" San said and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, resting his head against yours. God damn it…she really smelled good… He couldn't help but lean in closer, silently sniffing your scent. It drove him crazy. 

"Shut up and fuck off." You let out an annoyed sigh at the sound of his voice. Your blood felt like it was simmering, and the urge to shove him away was almost overwhelming. Yet, you remained still. The way his body was pressed so closely against yours left you feeling vulnerable, a sensation you were reluctant to acknowledge.

You want more…more…

He was all too aware of that. San's icy grip on your shoulder only grew more possessive, pulling you closer against him. His breath landed the nape of your neck, his lips tantalizingly close to your ear. 

"He's probably thinking of some chick from another clan." San grinned, relishing the way your skin felt against his. From the moment he laid eyes on you during the match, he sensed you were meant to be his, yet you never admitted it. Absurdly, your heart belonged to Yunho. It drove him wild with frustration. But honestly, San didn't have any real romantic feelings for you; it was just his alpha instincts and a fierce possessiveness urging him to make you his.

"He's not like you." You scoffed, trying to break his hold. "He's much better than you annoying asshole." 

"How do you know?" 

"That's common sense." 

"C'mon, you know nothing about me…" San chuckled smugly, clearly relishing every moment. It was like he could sense your anger and was just itching to provoke you further. "I bet you will find me more attractive than that guy…" His hand slid down your arm, locking around your wrist, his breath sending a shiver down your spine, which you tried to shake off.

"Look at you, still as cute as ever," he teased,  "Can't handle a little touch, huh, puppy?" 

This was really getting under your skin. Your face felt hot, and your heart was racing like crazy. Why did he have to be so damn attractive and annoying? You attempted to keep your cool, but it was nearly impossible with San so near. 

He slid his hand down a bit more, now resting on your hip. "You look adorable when you're all shy and flustered, puppy," San laughed, pulling you in even closer.

"Hey, you!!Enough─" "Hands off!!" Your sentence was abruptly interrupted by a voice you knew all too well, drawing your gaze to the approaching figure.

It was Yunho, the one who made your heart race.

"I take it that a Wonderland wolf isn't welcome here?" Yunho remarked, his tone authoritative yet playfully teasing. You gazed at him as if he were your hero, prompting an irritated growl from San.

"Tsk… Mind your own business," San retorted, tapping his foot impatiently, shooting him a frustrated look. He couldn't stand how your face lit up with relief at Yunho's presence. It should have been him who made you feel secure, the one you clung to, not this guy.

Yunho moved in closer, his grip tightening around your wrist as he pulled you away from San's grasp. A jolt of electricity shot through you at his touch, but it was quickly overshadowed by a wave of disappointment as San's presence faded. Why did it feel wrong? You should have been relieved, yet the feeling of loss washed over you.

"This is my clan's territory. You have no right to lay a hand on my pack member without my consent," Yunho declared, looming over San, who instinctively took a step back.

"Tsk…so possessive," San retorted, attempting to stand his ground, but Yunho paid him no mind. "Now, leave my clan. I won't warn you again." Other wolves gathered around Yunho, their eyes fixed on San with a mix of disdain, as if he were an unwelcome intruder.

"Alright, alright," San said, raising his hands in mock surrender, a smirk still playing on his lips. "I'm leaving, no need for violence." He took a slow step back, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before shifting back to Yunho, then he turned and walked away.

Yunho spun around, worry etched on his face. "Are you alright?" he asked. You smiled and nodded, reassuring him. "Yeah… I'm good…"

"Be careful next time, okay? He is not a nice guy, you know…" He ruffled your hair, smiling lovingly. You loved how he laughed which was making your heart skip a beat. "You know you're my best friend and I will keep you safe." 

"Okay…" You nodded, a blush creeping in. "Yunho, shall we hang—"

But before you could continue, a girl burst in. "Yunho!!" He looked up, shifting his focus to her. 

"Oh, hey, Jessica." He smiled awkwardly at her.

"What's wrong?Has something bad happened?I heard a wolf from Wonderland came here?" 

"Relax…relax…nothing happened." 

"Oh…thank god…" Jessica nodded with a smile. She was stunning, tall, and had gorgeous fur that made every wolf swoon. "Is this your friend?" Jessica asked, looking at you and pointing, which made you feel a bit uneasy. She was sweet and friendly, but there was always something off about her.

"Yeah…this is my friend, Y/N." Yunho looked at you quickly before focusing back on Jessica. 

"Ohhh!Y/N!Yunho mentioned you a lot." She giggled, trying to play the part of the sweet girl. You could only respond with a forced smile, clearly not thrilled to be around her. You understood her game; she was just flaunting how much Yunho chatted with her. 

Jessica seemed to enjoy your reaction, while Yunho appeared to be silently enduring the whole situation. He wasn't as energetic as he usually was, and definitely not as shy around a girl. It was obvious he had a crush on her too.

She glanced at the clock that was hanging from the tree, keeping an eye on the time. "Oh no! My first training session is about to start. I need to head out, catch you later, Yunho." She playfully messed up Yunho's hair before starting to walk off. Yunho stayed put for a moment, fixing his hair that had fallen over his eyes. He looked at you and let out a soft sigh.

"She's always like that…" Although he was complaining, you could see a small smile tug on his lips which made your heart tighten. He would never show this side to you. For him, you were just his friend, a normal member in his pack. 

"It seems you like that a lot, huh?" 

"Why would you ask that?" 

"Am I wrong?" 

"What?Are you jealous?" 

"Don't try to change the subject, Yunho." 

"Fine…I might have a tiny bit of feelings for Jessica." 

"Just tiny?" You forced a smile despite your heart was arching. 

"You're forcing me to admit to liking her more, aren't you?"

"Just be honest."

"Fine…I'll admit it…I do like her a lot." 

His words struck your heart like a sudden blow, shattering it with a force that left you reeling in pain. Yet, you stifled the hurt, attempting to sweep it under the rug. Confessing your feelings to him was out of the question; it could shatter the friendship between you two.

"Is she your mate…?" You asked tentatively. Deep down, you were aware of the truth, but a tiny part of you still clung to the hope that he might say otherwise.

"Yeah… I can sense it," he admitted, a hint of shyness creeping into his voice. 

Your hope was shattered. 

"But we haven't marked… you know…"

"Alright, I don't need the details." You joked, trying to keep things light.

"Me neither," He laughed. "I should get going now. Hope you find your mate soon." He turned and walked away, not glancing back, leaving you with a heart that felt like it was breaking into pieces.

He spotted her right away and rushed off to find Jessica, his face lit up with a grin that was a complete contrast to how he acted around you. It was like you didn't even exist; you were just invisible. Every single time you tried to talk to Yunho, Jessica would magically show up and grab his focus. All you could do was stand there quietly, watching them laugh and chat, completely ignoring you. 

A few hours later, you found yourself at the cafeteria, waiting for Yunho as you always did. The events of the morning still weighed heavily on your mind, but you tried to push them aside. However, the moment Yunho walked in, your heart plummeted. He was with Jessica again, their laughter ringing out like a melody, a perfect harmony that made your stomach churn. They seemed destined for each other, a bond that transcended any mark, hinting at a future you could only dream of.

"Hey, Y/N!" Jessica's voice cut through your thoughts, pulling you back to reality.

"Hey…" you replied softly, forcing a smile that felt more like a mask.

Her smile in return was laced with a sense of superiority, a silent acknowledgment of the power she held. You recognized it, but kept your thoughts to yourself. Then, your gaze fell on her necklace, its shape unmistakable—a piece that held memories of a shared childhood.

"oh…are you seeing this?" she said, deliberately playing with it. "Yunho gave it to me~"

"He gave you?!" The surprise slipped out before you could contain it. That necklace was a cherished gift from Yunho, one that you both had exchanged long ago. The realization stung, a mix of confusion and hurt flooding your heart.

"Yah yah yah. Who told me to lose the bet?" Yinho shook his head but a smile tugged on his lips. 

"Bet?" 

"Yes~ I thought this necklace was lovely, so I asked for it as a reward. He lost, after all. But I heard it was your childhood necklace? You don't mind, do you? We're friends, after all~"

"Don't mind?" A laugh escaped you, tinged with disbelief, but before you could voice your protest, Yunho interjected.

"She won't mind. And wait, did you just call me a loser?"

"Of course! Who else would it be?" Jessica teased, her laughter ringing out.

"Hey! Knock it off!" Yunho exclaimed, but they continued their playful banter, completely oblivious to your presence. 

You felt like a mere spectator in a scene that should have been yours, the necklace—a symbol of your past—now a token of someone else's affection. The weight of it all became too much to bear, and you decided to make a hasty exit. The image of them together twisted your heart in knots. As you strolled, you began to toy with your fur, trying to keep your mind  off things.

Tears started to form in your eyes as images of Yunho and Jessica kept flashing through your mind.  That heavy ache in your heart was tough to shake off. Sitting alone in the quiet park, you stared into the sky. The silence felt overwhelming as you couldn't help but linger on those feelings of loneliness.

You gently grasped the necklace that Yunho gifted you in your childhood, handling it with utmost care. Though it was merely a simple shell, it held immense sentimental value for you. Over time, it has faded and lost its once vibrant shine. As you gazed at it, memories of your childhood flood back, filling your heart with warmth, yet a twinge of discomfort lingers... You let out a sigh, sinking once more into a sea of contemplation.

"Oh~ Let me see who's there?" Suddenly, a voice snapped you out from the deep thought. You looked up to see a figure walking towards you, their features obscured by the shadows. But you knew who he was based on his scent and voice. You brushed away the tears that had fallen down your face, trying to pull yourself together.

"You again?" You rolled your eyes, letting out a heavy sigh and turning around to avoid San's gaze. 

"You cry?" He teased as he sat next to you.

"Why you care?"

"C'mon, you can talk to me if you'd like." 

"Tsk…don't act like a nice guy." 

"Don't pretend you're not secretly happy to see me~" He leaned closer, his strong musk scent filling your nostrils and making your heart race again. "So, what's got you all down in the dumps? Something is bothering you?" His voice was a bit softer, not matching his usual cocky demeanor. 

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as San got closer. "You don't get to ask me that," you protested, trying to keep up your aloof front. 

But he wasn't fooled, he saw through your tough act. He tilted his head slightly, studying your expression. "You sure about that? You look pretty upset, puppy." 

You felt your cheeks heat up a bit at his nickname. You hated how he always seemed to know just what buttons to push. 

"Don't call me that…" You huffed, trying to keep your cool demeanor. 

"Ah c'mon, I know you actually like it when I call you that." San chuckled, moving even closer to you. 

"Yeah right. Like you know me." You retorted, averting your gaze, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing how flustered you were. 

"You're acting like you hate it, but your face is already turning red~" He smirked, enjoying how much he was getting under your skin. 

"Shut up!" You muttered, still not daring to look at him directly. Damn it! How was he always aware of how his presence and words affected you?

"Oh, now you're just being rude." He teased, feigning hurt. "I was trying to make you feel better, and you go and act like a little brat." 

"I don't think so." You retorted. "You're just annoying me." 

"You're mad, huh? You're so cute when you're mad, puppy."

"I'm not cute! And I'm not mad." 

"Sure, you're not. You're just getting all flushed and stuttering for no reason." He moved his hand to poke your cheek, annoying you more. "You're such a bad liar, puppy." 

"I-I'm not lying and don't touch me. You're annoying. Why did I not kick your ass in the last match?" 

"Feisty one, aren't we?" He chuckled, rubbing your wolf ear slightly to make it twitch. "Let me guess…You are still thinking of that Yunho?" He said, his tone shifting to a more mocking tone. "It's kinda pathetic." 

Shut up. You know nothing about me." You snapped back, feeling hurt by his words. It was true that you still thought about Yunho a lot, but you didn't want to admit it to anyone, least of all San. "I'm not pathetic." 

"Really? Then why are you so hung up on him? You keep thinking about him all the time, it's foolish." 

"I…I'm trying…" You mumbled, looking down at the ground. "It's just…hard." 

"You've been saying that for a year now," San rolled his eyes. "Just stop moping around and move on. There are better wolves out there, you know." 

"I know that…But Yunho…he's…he's different…"

"Oh, please. He's just another guy. There's nothing special about him, puppy." He crossed his arm, feeling annoyed. "You're just stuck in the past. You need to move on." 

"I know that…" you repeated, your voice shaky. "But…it's not that easy. I…I can't just forget about him." 

"Oh, how hard you're trying to defend him," he mocked. "You're just going to keep pining after some guy who doesn't want you." 

His words caused your breath to hitch. It hurt, but it was true. 

"You don't know…you don't understand…" You looked at San, clenching your jaw as you were struggling to keep the tears from falling. 

San's eyes widened slightly when he noticed your red nose and watery eyes, but then his attention shifted to the necklace in your hand. A smirk crept onto his face as a mischievous idea crossed his mind.

"Yah~I don't know anything~" He suddenly stood up, looming over you with his tall frame. "All I know is that you're still into him and clutching that little gift he gave you." Before you could respond, he snatched the necklace from your grasp and started inspecting it.

"Hey!Give me back!! What're you doing!!" you shouted, lunging to reclaim it, but his height made it impossible.

"Is it a gift he gave you? How cheap~" 

"Shut up and give me back!You fucking thief!" You leaped up, trying to snatch the necklace back, but he dodged effortlessly. "Don't make me bite you!" 

"Oh no!The puppy is threatening me!I'm shaking in my boots!" San laughed at your threat, not taking it seriously in the slightest. "Try to get me, huh?" He started to run away from you after jokingly shielding himself from your grab. 

"Stand here!!" 

"No~stay back you puppy!" He couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips as he dodged your attempts to catch him. 

"Come back here!!" 

"Not a chance!You're not taking it back today, no matter how pretty you are." He continued to back away, though he wasn't actually trying to escape.

"You die when I catch you!" 

"Try hard, puppy~" 

You darted around the park, mirroring the playful antics of two exuberant puppies. With every sprint, a wave of joy surged within you, washing away the irritation that once lingered in your heart. The echoes of frustration faded, replaced by the sweet melody of laughter. 

Each time your bodies brushed against one another, a thrilling spark ignited, sending a delightful jolt through your veins that left you craving more. 

Seeing you laugh so gleefully made San's heart swell with affection. He found your happiness contagious, his own smile widening. He didn't know why but he wanted to see your smile more. 

"Ha!Catcha!!" You suddenly launched forward, leaping onto his chest and sending both of you tumbling onto the soft grass. "I told you I could catch you!" you declared, pinning his wrists to the ground as you settled on top of him, securing your hold.

"Oh no no no!Please let me go~~" He mocked, acting like a prey dramatically. You couldn't help but laugh at his words, totally forgetting you were straddling him, and the necklace. 

"Happy now?" 

"Uh huh. Looking at you underneath me is a good view. You know?" 

"You're cruel, aren't you?" He rolled his eyes playfully. Seeing your smile, San couldn't help but soften, his 'pretend' annoyance fading away. He smiled back at you, appreciating the moment of lightheartedness between the two of you. 

He slowly tucked your hair behind your ear, tracing a path along your jawline with his fingertip. "You know, it's cute when you smile like that," He blurted out before he could stop himself. His words and move made you two suddenly frozen for a moment as you realized how close you were, an awkward silence falling between you. 

San's eyes widened at his own words, realizing what he had just blurted out. He quickly tried to cover it up with a joking tone. 

"Ahem, anyway," he coughed awkwardly. "You're, uh, very flexible. It's not every day you see someone who can jump so high."

He felt his heart skip a beat, his cheeks slightly flushed as he avoided eye contact with you, not wanting you to see how flustered he was. You were still straddling him, and the realization of your proximity made his stomach flip.

"Yah, uh, can you get off me now?" San stammered, trying to play it off as a joke, but there was a hint of red on his cheeks.

His heartbeat quickened as your body was still on top of him, heat pooling in his core. He desperately wanted to flip you around and pin you down on the ground, but he managed to resist the urge. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his bearings. "So, er, are you gonna get up or what?"

You looked at San, feeling his flustered state beneath you. It was rare to see him so off-guard, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. 

You smirked, enjoying the chance to tease him. "Hmm, what if I don't want to get up?" you said, deliberately keeping your weight on him, reveling in his increasingly flustered state.

San's face continued to burn red, his heart racing as you kept yourself pressed against him, a smirk on your lips. Damn, you were enjoying this little game, weren't you? 

He tried to regain his composure, but the feel of your body against his was driving him insane. "Y-You're insufferable," he muttered, his voice wavering.

"Aw, come on, puppy~ You know you love it," You chuckled, loved seeing him so off-guard and vulnerable, it was adorable. You leaned even closer, pressing your chest against his. San's eyes widened at the intimacy of your position, his breath hitching in his throat.

"If you don't get off, I can't promise what I will do."

"Huh? Mind telling me?"

San let out a surprised gasp as he managed to flip you over in one fluid motion, reversing your positions and effectively pinning you down on the ground. 

He hovered over you for a moment, his heartbeat racing as he looked down at your flushed face. The feeling of having you underneath him sent a jolt of heat through his body, making it hard for him to form a coherent thought. 

His gaze darkened as he realized he now had full control over the situation, and he was enjoying it quite a bit.

"What–what're you doing?!" You gasped, taken back by a sudden change in positions. 

"What does it look like I'm doing?" He asked, his voice low and dark. "I'm the one in charge now, puppy."

"You…you…don't you dare to do something…" 

"Something huh?"

You turned your head away, avoiding his hot gaze as he leaned down more. Both of you were so engrossed in your playful teasing, neither of you noticed the newcomers at first. But the sound of clearing the throats snatched your attention, making you pause mid-step.

San, still in a joking mode, spun around to see Yunho and Jessica standing there, watching the spectacle with raised eyebrows.

"Yu…yunho??" You stared at him, a mixture of embarrassment and surprises washing over you. You couldn't help but freeze for a moment. 

"Oh? Audience huh?" San mocked, soon calmed down from the surprise. "Try not to disturb us?"

Jessica's eyes flicked between San and you, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. But she didn't say anything, just observed the two of you with unabashed curiosity.

Meanwhile, Yunho's expression was unreadable. He seemed to be taking in the scene silently, his usually cheerful demeanor replaced by a more thoughtful air.

The silence hung heavily in the air, the atmosphere slightly tense. San could feel the weight of their gazes,wondering what they were thinking. He subtly glanced at you, wondering if you were uncomfortable. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Yunho spoke up, breaking the silence. 

"Having fun, I see." His voice was nonchalant, betraying no particular emotion.

"Oh..yeah…um...just messing around, you know…" You said as you tried to get up, but San hold you firmly.

Jessica, however, was far less subtle, her smirk widening. "Yeah, definitely looked like more than messing around to me."

You tensed up at her comments, feeling your cheeks heat up further. San, different from you, shot her a glance, not appreciating the implications in her tone. 

"Are you jealous?" He mocked. "Jealous to the point of spying on us?"

"We were just taking a walk and stumbled upon you two lovebirds." She said, a hint of amusement in her voice. 

"Jessica," Yunho, who had been usually quiet, suddenly spoke up. "Could you give us a moment?" 

"Well, Jessica. I think you won't bother us, right?" San added. 

Jessica pouted a little bit at Yunho's stern look, but then her eyes flicked to San, a sly smile on her face.

"Of course, I'm a saint." She responded. "I'll just give you two lovelorn fools some…privacy…"

She gave you and San another smirk, making it clear she was poking fun at the situation. 

"Thanks for that." San rolled his eyes.

Yunho waited until Jessica was out of earshot before he turned to you two, his expression serious.

"I need to talk to you both about something…important…" he began, his usually cheerful demeanor replaced by uncharacteristic seriousness.

"Okay, what's going on, Man?" San said, pulling away from you but still holding you firmly in his arms which made Yunho frown a bit. 

"It's…it's about what we just saw now…" Yunho said, his eyes flickering between you and San. "I couldn't help but notice…the way you two were interacting, it didn't seem…just friendly?"

"It's not like that…" you cleaned your throat. "We're just messing around."

"That didn't look like just messing around," Yunho raised an eyebrow, looking unconvinced by your attempt to downplay it. "You were being pretty…touchy-feely with each other."

"It's just like you and Jessica. What's the matter?" San snapped back, causing Yunho's eyes to widen. 

"That's…that's different…" Yunho was a little bit taken back. "She is my mate. And you, Choi San, is another wolf who doesn't belong to my clan. Now you are harassing my pack member."

"Ok wait wait wait- harassing?? Excuse me? Watch your mouth." San shot him a glance, pulling you even closer as his arm wrapped around your shoulder. 

"What are you doing?! You get off me." you whispered against San's ear quietly but San ignored your words and tightened his grip.

"Why do you care that much? Because she is your pack member? Pfff…shut it. She is my mate. That's not business to deal with what's mine."

"You…two are…?" Yunho's eyes widened further, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. 

You, meanwhile, just stood there in shock as you hadn't expected him to claim that you were his mate, especially not in front of Yunho. 

"Yunho…we–" 

"Do I need your permission to touch my mate? What a nosy guy."

"Permission for what?" Jessica suddenly appeared again, sidling up to Yunho and looping her arm through his. She glanced at you two and let out a knowing chuckle.

"Nothing. Just your little boyfriend being nosy." San let out a scoff.

"Oh really? And why's that?" 

Yunho, still looking a bit startled, just stood there silently, letting Jessica speak. He didn't know why. Knowing you had a mate caused him feel uncomfortable. You should hate San so much. But why? Why were you so close to him? Why were you his mate? 

"It seems you are blind, huh?" A smirk played on San's lips as he mocked Jessica. "Can't believe you have a blind mate, Jeong Yunho."

"Hey!! I am not blind… I'm just observant, that's all." 

"Then don't ask a question that is obvious already." 

"How was I supposed to know you were…together? You didn't exactly announce it to the world. And you, Y/N, don't you hate him? But what now? You suddenly fall in love with him? Do you like seeking attention??"

"What—" Before you could snap back, San suddenly cut you off. "Mind your words, bitch. Y/N just mad at me because I had pissed her off. But now, she forgave me. Right? Y/n?"

You knew San was lying but you didn't stop him at all. On the other hand, you allowed him to fight for you. 

"And we are not like you, attention seekers. We don't like showing off."

"Yah!! How rude you are!!" Jessica gapsed, feigning offense at his description of her. "You're  just jealous! Can you blame me? I'm just…popular and beautiful." she said, leaning her head on Yunho's shoulder, a hint of cockiness in her tone. Yunho just sighed but not saying anything.

"We don't have time to talk to you dumbass. It's just wasting our energy. Let's go, love." San held your hand firmly, tugging you to leave.

Yunho was still processing everything that had just happened. He watched as San leaded you away, his expression a mixture of surprise and mild curiosity. 

You followed San silently, feeling San give you a squeeze on your hand. 

"Is it that Jessica always acts rude to you?" San suddenly said, pulling you back from the deep thought.

"Huh…hmm…" You nodded. 

"You didn't fight back at all?" 

"I…how…?"

"How?? Huh?? Seriously? You can kick my ass countless times in the match but can't do it towards her? What's wrong with you?"

"Hey! It's different! She…she is Yunho's mate.. our future luna. How can I fight back?"

"Pfff…I'm an alpha too and you still kick my ass." 

"You're from another gang, okay? That's different…" 

"Tch…bullshit. You just like bullying me."

"Yah! When did I bully you?! You're the one who keeps messing me up!"

"Don't say you aren't enjoying it~"

"I.." 

San suddenly spun around, causing you to collide with his chest. "ouch..! What's wrong…?"

"Hey, dumbass." 

"don't call me that–" He lifted up your chin, making you look at him. A blush creeped in your cheek, heat spreading through your body as he leaned closer. 

"Listen. You're my mate. Mine. That means no one else gets to hurt you. I am the only one who gets to hurt you. Get it?" 

"Who said I am yours? Don't be…" He placed a finger on your lips to stop your words.

"I asked, Get it? Yes or no. Don't you dare to say no."

"You…You're insufferable." You rolled your eyes. "Yes..yes…I understand it. Happy now?"

"Good." He gave a small grin and playfully tousled your hair. He really enjoyed teasing you, even if it meant making you cry. It was pretty amusing to see a tough little wolf, who had taken him down so many times, whimper like a puppy. 

But then he thought about it. He only wanted to see you cry for him, not anyone else. He loved making you laugh, too, but only if it was because of him. A wave of protectiveness surged in his chest. He promised himself you would be his, no matter what. He wouldn't let anyone else take you away.

"And~~" He took out a necklace that Yunho gave you from his pocket, swaying it side to side in front of you. "I'll keep this. You can't keep it."

"What?! Give me back! That's mine!" You attempted to grab it, but he dodged and held you firmly against his chest.

"No no no~ I helped you to fight back that bitch! I should have a reward."

"Yah! Why you have to choose this!?"

"I chose what I wanted. That's it." 

"It's unfair!"

"Nothing's unfair, puppy." 

"I helped you, remember?"

"Fine. But why you tell her I was your mate? She must announce it to the world!"

"What? That's the truth."

"But we haven't marked–"

"Oh? That's what you mind?"

"Huh? That's not the point! it's…" He unexpectedly leaned closer and planted a kiss on your cheek. You were taken aback, your eyes going wide at the surprise. Your heart raced, and you could feel your cheek warming up again. For a moment, you just stared at him, completely stunned and at a loss for words.

"Wh–what was that for??" 

"Finished marking~" He winked and joked. 

Your cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red at his teasing. You brushed your fingers over the spot where his lips had just been, still feeling that lingering warmth.

"Hey! Are you just claiming me as yours or what?" 

"Absolutely. You can't argue with that." 

"Ugh… You're insufferable," you scoffed, rubbing your cheek and pouting. "We have to act like a couple now… for everyone else's sake…"

"Is that a problem?" San tilted his head, a smirk on his face. "You should be thrilled to be my mate."

"Shut it, you jerk! It's so annoying!" Even though you were acting annoyed, deep down, you found it amusing to watch San stand up to Jessica.

"So you're not against it?"

"What else can I do? There's no other option…" you pouted and mumbled. "I guess we can fake it."

"Good! Trust me, being my mate is the best thing ever." 

"Enough already." You rolled your eyes. "I'm only going along with this because of Jessica."

"Huh? So she's your top priority? Not the whole 'lovey-dovey couple' act?"

"Who would want to pretend to be a cute couple with you?" 

"You do." 

"No, I don't!"

As you two bickered like kids, San realized it was time to head back to his clan. "Oh man, I've gotta go. Time really flies, huh?"

"Just go already."

"Don't you miss me?"

"Not at all."

"Ouch… that hurts."

"Just hurry up. The curfew is coming up."

"Okay, okay. Don't be so mean. See you tomorrow, my girlfriend."

"I really don't want to see you tomorrow." You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. But a small smile crept onto your face despite yourself. As he walked away, you let out a sigh you didn't even know you were holding in. "See you tomorrow…" 

—-----

Everyone in the clan was aware that you're San's mate. No matter where you are, you could feel the eyes on you, filled with doubt or even judgment. The Wonderland clan, which San was part of, had a long-standing rivalry with your Aurora clan. This all started centuries ago when there was a fight over territory, leading to a full-blown conflict. It's only been about fifty years since things started to cool down, and now the two clans face off in friendly competitions instead. 

Still, it seems like the tension between the two clans isn't going away anytime soon.

San never shies away from it. Ever since that day, he strides into your clan's training ground with a mischievous purpose. To him, you're merely a plaything; he delights in riling you up, only to lead you on a wild chase around the arena. Sometimes, he morphs into a wolf, snatching your weapon right from your grasp. The entire training ground has turned into his personal playground, much to the annoyance of your fellow members. 

With each of his antics, your reputation takes a hit. It's clear he's out to humiliate you! That guy holds a grudge because he lost the last match, and now he's determined to "ruin" you. Ah, you really hate him! But you couldn't deny it. Being his 'girlfriend' made you feel happier. 

You didn't know how to put this tangled feeling into words. Yes, you despised him, that was your firm belief this entire year. However, something was inexplicably different.

You would miss him, even feel a slight sense of disappointment when he didn't show up on time. As you reflected on this strange development, you couldn't understand how your feelings had so swiftly changed. You feel happy and relaxed when he's around, especially when he plays tricks on Jessica (such as burning her fur??). It's funny to watch how she freaks out and asks for help. 

Your emotions had become a convoluted, tangled mess. How could you harbor both hatred and longing for the same person? It was as if your heart had a mind of its own, and no matter how hard you tried, it couldn't help but yearn for his attention. You were baffled and angry at yourself for allowing these feelings to develop, especially when just a few months ago, you had loathed him.

On the one hand, your past distrust of him has made you suspicious of his behavior; but at the same time, a part of you has gradually become addicted to his company. It was irritating and confusing, so damn much.

Once again, the time for that "competition" is drawing near. As the most formidable fighter in your tribe, it's only natural that you'll be called upon to represent them in this event. However, your situation is quite awkward.

You now prepared your garment backstage and a knock echoed on the door.

"Come in." You said, finding Jessica entering the room.

"What you want?" You said, even didn't raise your head.

"Just come to see you~~" Jessica sneered, sauntering over as you organized your gear at the training grounds. "I never imagined you'd turn your back on our clan just to chase after a mate," She leaned against a wooden post, arms crossed, her tone dripping with mockery. "I'm not like you. I won't abandon my people. After all, I'm the future Luna."

You tossed the protective gear into your bag, cutting her off mid-sentence.

"Is that all you can say? Always going on about the future Luna?"

"Heh, that's way better than your situation, traitor. Plus, Yunho and I share a bond that you and San will never have. Honestly, I think San is just messing with your heart. You should really think about leaving him. Don't chase after anyone for attention."

"Don't pretend I'm you." You shot back. "Apart from being a future luna, you are nothing. Also, Yunho still didn't mark and knot you. You don't have any right to judge me."

Jessica glowered at you, her irrational growing. "I have every right to judge you! You're pretending to be San's girlfriend just to piss me off, but everyone can see right through the facade. You're cheap, attention-seeker, and pathetic!"

"You really just want the spotlight, don't you? You're upset because I'm getting attention. You don't want me to have anyone special in my life. It's like you're determined to keep me from getting anything good! You stepped closer, hands on your hips. "Honestly, you're just a jealous, attention-seeking brat."

"Well. Let me tell you something. You're not special, and this little act of yours won't last. San will realise that soon enough, and he'll drop you like the cheap bitch you are!!" Jessica huffed, but her mean words didn't hurt you at all.

"Then let me tell you something too. Yunho will see right through your act, and he won't even think about marking you, even if you're his mate. You keep messing up, and no one will ever really care about you. You think you're a big deal in the clan? They just see you as a joke." 

Jessica's face paled as your words sunk in. She tried to keep her cool, but it was clear that your words had hit her where it hurt. Her facade of confidence started to crumble, and a hint of vulnerability flashed across her face. 

"It's…it's not true! I'm the most popular and all the wolves like me!"

"Just keep doing your thing in your little bubble," you said, giving her a quick look as you moved in closer. "Soon enough, you'll see I was spot on." You nudged her shoulder as you strolled off, leaving her there, feeling a bit frantic.

But when you opened the door, you saw Yunho standing outside. He looked at you with a serious expression.

"Can we talk?" he said, his voice low and calm.

"Of course," you responded, gesturing for him to come in. "Take a seat."

Yunho followed you inside and took a seat opposite you. Jessica immediately ran to him, looping his arm as if she was almost crying. 

"Listen," he began, "about what happened with Jessica." You nodded, bracing yourself for whatever was coming your way.

"I wanted to talk about her. What you said to her... it was harsh."

"I know it was," you said, not meeting his gaze. "But I'm just defending myself."

"But you didn't have to be so aggressive about it," Yunho replied, his voice edged with a hint of impatience.

"Seriously? She can talk bad about me, but I can't? What's the logic?"

"It's not about logic…Y/N." Yunho rubbed his temple, sighing. "There's a difference between standing up for yourself and being cruel. You hurt her feelings badly."

"How weak is she then? Can't handle these words at all? Isn't she a future luna?" You were pissed off. You knew your words were too harsh for her, but what hurted you most was Yunho's reaction. 

Yunho shot you a disapproving look. "It's not about weakness. It's about respect and empathy. She has many flaws, but that doesn't make it okay to go after her like that."

"So what can I do, huh? Not defending myself?"

"You can stand up for yourself, but do it with respect. Treat other people like you want them to treat you. And don't let others get under your skin."

"Then tell your fucking mate first! Don't speak to me with respect when she never respects me at all. Such bullshit!"

Yunho's eyes widened at your words, clearly taken back. "When you become like this? Y/N…? You won't be that cruel…After you got close to San, you totally changed…"

"I wasn't changed. I'm just tired of being her punching bag. That's all." you shot back, your voice sharp. "She thinks she can do anything she wants and I'm fucking sick of it."

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Tell you? Did you ever listen?"

"Of course I will listen. I care about you."

"Don't make me laugh. You know how many times you ignore me when Jessica suddenly pops up from nowhere?"

"I…I didn't realise…"

"You didn't realise??" you repeated, unable to hide your disbelief. "Jessica literally says your name and you turn around to answer her like I'm invisible."

"See? I said you were jealous!" Jessica suddenly chimed in. "You just want my Yunho's attention. But he's my mate! How dare you bother us! I know you are such a bitch who wants to steal everything from me! So I fight back and you hurt me like this!"

"What the fuck?! You–"

"Enough!" he said firmly. "Both of you, stop. Fighting."

Jessica looked sheepish, clearly caught out in her outburst. You, on the other hand, were still fuming. But Yunho's stern voice made you fall silent.

Yunho took a deep breath before speaking again. "Jessica, you had no right to say that, especially not like that. And Y/N, you need to learn to control your temper…you were not like that before…San isn't a good guy, you shouldn't be close to him…he…"

"Cut it out!! Don't you dare to talk bad to him." You, on the other hand, were struggling to keep your emotions under control. It was clear you cared about San deeply, and hearing Yunho speak about him in that way hurt.

"Y/N…" Yunho saw the look on your face and quickly backtracked. "That's not what I meant..." he said, trying to clarify.

"Then what do you mean?" you snapped back, your voice still tight with emotion.

Yunho sighed, clearly at a loss for words. "I just mean that San is...he's not the person you think he is."

You let out a scoff, rolling your eyes. "Oh, and you know that better than me, right?"

"I just...I've seen what he's like. He's not good for you, Y/N."

"Shut up already. You know nothing about him. Yes, he is annoying as fuck, always acting like a child to tease me non stop. But he's the one who gives me happiness that you never give me. I don't need you to judge him" 

You cast a glance their way as you stepped out of the room. There was no use in saying anything further. You could tolerate their insults directed at you, but not those aimed at San. 

—--

The competition kicked off with a surge of excitement, as teams from various clans assembled on the battlefield, poised for action. The palpable tension between you, Yunho, and Jessica was unmistakable, drawing the attention of others, particularly San, who couldn't resist winking and teasing you with a mischievous grin. However, when he caught sight of your furious expression, he quickly realized something was amiss.

There was no time for him to inquire further. The bell rang, and chaos erupted as everyone scattered into the depths of the forest. The countdown concluded, marking the official start of the game. This was no ordinary contest; it was a high-stakes version of hide and seek. The team that was discovered would engage in a battle with their discoverer, with the victor earning one point, while the winning team would claim five points.

For the first several minutes, everything unfolded smoothly. But then, your team's fortunes took a sharp downturn, and many players began to fall. Your heart raced as you heard the grim updates about your teammates being eliminated through your headphones. You knew your team was stronger than this, so why did it feel like your position had been compromised?

Lost in thought, a familiar scent suddenly wafted beside you. Instinctively, you spun around and launched an attack. Yet, the figure before you effortlessly deflected your strike, a sarcastic smile playing on his lips.

"Hey, feisty as always, huh?Puppy." 

"Choi San!!I know it's you!"

"Hm~You know my scent well huh?" 

Without hesitation, you lunged at him again. He dodged with ease, seizing your wrists and pinning them against the tree trunk.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa~ What's got you all riled up~?" San teased, leaning in to catch a whiff of your scent. "Why the anger?"

The memory of your earlier confrontation with Jessica and Yunho flashed through your mind, igniting a fresh wave of fury.

"You're the one who knocked my teammate down, aren't you?" 

"You're the one who took down my teammate, right?"

"Oh, so clever~ puppy~" San grinned. "You wanna know how I track them?" You just stared at him, waiting for his response.

"Your scent, puppy~ Your teammates carry your scent, making it super easy for me to track them down~ We've been together for so long, after all~" 

"What?!You…?!You…So you get close to me to know and remember my scent…?" 

"Hm~ There's nothing wrong with wanting to keep my mate's scent fresh in my mind~" San nodded, raising his eyebrows as he confessed. "And honestly, I can't help but use this to my advantage~"

"You jerk!!" You tried to shove him away, but his grip was too strong, and a part of you secretly liked it. He knew that, so he wasn't about to let you go.

"Pup~ That's just being clever."

"That's sneaky!"

You both were completely unaware that Jessica had been eavesdropping on your conversation. She had been tailing you, biding her time, waiting for the perfect moment to exact her revenge. It was only the unexpected arrival of San that held her back. Now, however, she had all the justification she needed to strike. You had betrayed the team, offering your scent to the enemy, and it was only right that you faced the consequences.

"You traitor!!" In the heat of your argument, Jessica lunged at you, transforming into her wolf form.

"What the—" Before you could even process what was happening, San swiftly enveloped you in a protective embrace, his hand cradling the back of your head as he shielded you from Jessica's fierce attack, turning his back to her.

Ouch! Her razor-sharp claws raked across San's back, sending a jolt of pain through him, even with the protective vest in place. He staggered forward, pressing his entire weight against you, wrapping you tightly in his embrace.

"San—!" Your eyes locked with his, the playful banter replaced by a deep well of worry and concern.

"Just hold on." He cupped your face, planting a quick kiss on your lips before turning to confront the frantic woman. She had expected her attack to land, but to her surprise, it had barely fazed him.

"You..." Jessica stumbled backward, her eyes wide with fear at San's fierce glare. Shouldn't you be helping your teammate?! Y/N!!" Her voice was laced with desperation, but her expression was menacing.

"Is she the one who got under your skin, love?" San teased, his voice dripping with possessiveness and protectiveness. "Let me handle this."

"How dare you…" Jessica gasped, taken aback. "Y/N!! Are you really just going to stand there while I'm in danger? You're supposed to be on my side! Think about what this looks like to the whole clan!"

You remained silent, your gaze drifting to San going behind you. Yes, he might have used your scent to outmaneuver your teammates, but he was also the one shielding you. On ordinary days, he was playful, calling you his little puppy and teasing you endlessly... but beneath that lightheartedness lay a genuine concern and affection that was unmistakable. At that moment, everything crystallized. You cherished how fiercely he defended you and the joy he brought into your life.

You were falling for him.

"I'm not on the team. I'm on San's side." You responded, your voice firm. "Whatever you like, I'm sick of you!!Don't you dare to order me!" 

"That's right." San affirmed, stepping even closer. "She's mine."

"You've lost it... You've gone mad…" Jessica couldn't believe what she was hearing. Had you really chosen him over her own team?

"Enough already! You propelled yourself forward, charging at her with determination. But just as before, Yunho intervened, stepping in to block your advance. San swiftly caught you, guiding you down to the ground with care.

"What's going on, Y/N…?" Yunho stared at you, astonished. "She's on your team!"

"She never saw me that way! She was the one who struck first. Don't talk to me like that, Yunho!"

"That's enough." San's voice was firm, his gaze fixated on Jessica. "You've done enough damage for one night."

Jessica tried to protest, but the weight of San's expression told her it was useless.

Meanwhile, San's words struck a chord in Yunho, and his eyes flicked down to you, his concern growing.

"Y/N..." Yunho spoke up, his voice filled with confusion and worry. "This isn't like you. What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing was ever like it should have been." San interjected, his voice laced with the weight of years of concealed emotions. 

Jessica's expression hardened at his words, clearly taken aback by his bluntness. "San..." She began, but he cut her off. 

"No more excuses, no more pretenses." San's words echoed with a determined resolve. "She's mine, whether you or our team realizes it." 

Jessica finally found her voice, her eyes flashing with fury. "You wouldn't dare…"

"Oh, I dare." San smirked, unyielding in his stance. "And I won't let go. She's mine, and I'll make sure she knows it." 

Jessica's expression darkened at his words, her jaw clenching. "You're a fool, San. You know nothing." 

"Perhaps I do." He shot back, a hint of a playful smile on his lips. "I know her better than anyone, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep her by my side."

"As if you've ever tried." Jessica gritted her teeth, her anger flaring. "You've always treated her like one of your conquests, your little plaything to toss aside when you got bored." 

San's expression darkened, his grip on you tightening protectively. 

"You have no idea what you're talking about." He shot back, his voice edged with a coldness that belied his growing irritation.

You swiftly broke free from San's hold and advanced, delivering a sharp slap to Jessica's repugnant face. The forest fell silent, everyone taken aback, until San let out a low chuckle.

"That's what you get. I'm done with you…" Your eyes locked onto Jessica, who was shielding her flushed face in disbelief, before shifting your focus to Yunho. "Two."

"Y/N…" Yunho stuttered, caught off guard. You removed the group badge from your arm, holding it up for him to see.

"You never stood up for me, did you?" You arched an eyebrow, scrutinizing him. "Every time you pointed fingers at me, claiming I should respect others, or accusing me of changing?! Haven't you changed? Do you even care about me? You don't! You weren't like this before! Ever since she came into the picture, you've changed completely!!"

"I..." He was at a loss for words, fully aware that you were right. It was he who had changed, not you. He had turned his back on you, he had stopped caring, he had driven you to this breaking point.

"I've had enough. I don't want to endure it anymore!" You hurled the group badge to the ground, signaling your departure from them. Your actions would be broadcasted to the entire clan through the conference's live feed, marking your exit not just from the team, but from the entire clan. Yet, you felt no remorse; your only concern was for San.

"Let's go." You grasped San's hand and led him away, leaving the other two in your wake.

You only paused once you had pulled him into a cabin, a place where the broadcaster couldn't intrude. You shut the door and immediately checked San's back, anxiety flooding you. Jessica's earlier attack had rattled you. If she had harmed San, you would never forgive her.

"Show me your back, okay? Does it hurt? Did she hurt you??" You said, unbuttoning his shirt with urgency. But San merely gazed at you with affection, relishing your worry for him.

"Hey, say something—"

He abruptly cradled your face in his hands, prompting you to gaze up at him. "Aw~ it warms my heart to see how much you care about me~ you know~"

You let out a frustrated sigh, your eyes rolling. "Can you just be serious for a moment? What if you end up getting hurt? You—"

Suddenly, he leaned down to press his lips against yours. San's kiss took you by surprise at first, but before you knew it, you were melting into the sensation. His lips were soft and warm against yours, and you could feel the heat spreading through your body. He cupped your face, pulling you even closer, and deepened the kiss, causing the heat to intensify even more. 

He kissed you passionately, his tongue exploring your lips and searching for yours. You could hear him gasp against your lips, the sound growing louder and more desperate as he pressed you closer to him. His fingers gripped your hips tightly, as if he was fighting against the urge to take things even further. 

San broke the kiss, panting as he looked at you. "Goodness…" He mumbled, his breath shaky and uneven. "You drive me goddamn insane, you know that?" 

Before you could respond to his words, his lips found their way to your neck, nipping and sucking your skin to mark you as his own. "Mmmm…you taste so good, babe. I can't get enough of you." He ran his tongue over your lips again before slipping it into your mouth, dominating the kiss as he explored it. 

His hands wandered over you, his touch gentle but tinged with a hint of possessiveness. His fingers slid under your shirt, giving you goosebumps as he traced the curves of your bare skin. "God…you feel so good…I could touch you like this all day long and never get tired of it." 

He suddenly yanked at your shirt, making you gasp a bit. "I need this off, now." "San…" Your soft moan drove him wild. He couldn't hold back, quickly unbuttoning your shirt with a sense of urgency, some buttons popping off as he pulled at it roughly. Once the last button was free, he shoved the fabric off your shoulders and tossed it away.

"Much better." 

His lips found your shoulder, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck and onto your chest. San lowered himself to his knees in front of you, his eyes still burning with lust as he looked up at you. He wrapped his arms around your hips, dropping a peck on your stomach. 

"Babe…I want to make you feel good…would you let me?" His hand reached the waistband of your pants as if asking for permission to pull them off. You could do nothing but nod, unable to find your voice as you were overwhelmed by the pleasure he gave you. San grinned, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. 

"Good, dear. I promise you will never regret it." San positioned himself even lower, his lips inches away from where you want him most. Your pants dropped on the floor as he pulled them down, leaving you totally exposed to him. Without a warning, his face divided into your thighs, moving his lips all over your sensitive skin. 

The room was quiet, the only sound was your heavy panting and his lips gently grazing against your clit. His tongue flicked out to taste you, licking away the juices flowing out from the core. A soft moan and whimper let out from San's lips as he loved how sweet you taste, how your body squirmed under his touch. 

You couldn't help but arch your back, your fingers digging into the mattress as you tried to hold yourself together. "Please…there…more…" 

"More hm?" He grinned, kissing and biting a bit on your sensitive spot. 

"Fuck…" 

"Here?" He repeated, darting out his tongue to lick over where you needed him the most. No words came out from your mouth but only heavy breathing, he knew that's a point to bring you to the edge and he won't have mercy on it. He kept repeating the same move, but with a little more pressure than the previous one, enjoying how your moan became louder and louder. 

You couldn't help but roll your hips, pushing yourself closer to his lips as if your body was practically screaming for release. Just a little bit more, just more. He got the signals but he wasn't done with you yet. He wanted to draw this out as long as possible, to make you ache and squirm with need. San held back, teasing you with just enough touch to keep the fire burning, but not enough to push you over the edge. 

"San…please…let me come…" You needed him, a gasp escaping your lips to plead for him to give you the release you so desperately need, but he just smiled and continued on. 

"Patient, babe. Just a little longer…" He murmured against your skin. His lips danced over your flesh, never quite touching where you wanted them most. 

You tried to be patient but it was so hard when every bit of you was on fire. Your body was wound so tight, the tension building until you didn't think you could take much more. His tongue traced a path over you, slowly, so slowly, but it was enough to make you arch your back and gasp, your fingers clutching at his hair, tugging little. He started by taking his tongue to taste you, but then he began to move, the wet muscle working slowly, gently. 

"San…hmm…" Just when you thought it was too much, he pulled away, leaving you breathless and wanting for more. He just stood in front of you, a grin tugging on his lips. 

"Beg for it, babe. Tell me how bad you want me." 

"Hm…please…fill me…I need you…"

"Fill you huh?What do you want me to use to fill you up? My tongue? My cock? Or My cum?" 

"Everything…please…don't stop…"

"Everything?You can't be that selfish…dear…You can only choose one…"

"Please…your cum…I need it…just make me feel good…" 

"You ask for it." 

He suddenly pushed you down, positioning himself between your thighs. You could feel his hardened length brushed against your swollen and blushed clit, the wetness from the pre-cum on the tip causing you to squirm a bit. 

"I'll be gentle…at first…" He looked down at you, his eyes were dark and filled with a possessive desire. "But I can't promise what will happen later."

He inhaled sharply, the warmth radiating from you igniting a fire within him that he could no longer resist. With a decisive thrust, he entered you in one seamless motion. A gasp escaped both your lips, the sensation overwhelming as your body instinctively tightened around him, enveloping him completely.

You arched your back, eager to connect with him, your arms encircling his shoulders, drawing him closer. Each movement of his inside you felt like a claim, a possession that left you craving more. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the pleasure he was bringing to you.

San couldn't tell where he ended and you began, so lost was he in the pleasure of being joined with you. The way your body responded to his, the moan and gasp leaving from your lips drove him insane. His body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alive with sensation. 

"You're mine." San growled, his words almost unrecognizable through the haze of desire. "Mine to claim, mine to mark, mine to mate…" 

"Yes," You gasped, your voice little more than a whisper. "Yours, I'm yours." You wrapped your legs tighter around his hips, pulling him even deeper inside you, and you could feel the pleasure building inside you like a coiled spring ready to snap. You wanted to give yourself to him completely, to let him possess you in every way. 

"Take me" you pleaded, your nails digging into his skin. "Take me entirely." 

Your words like a trigger to him, your touches driving him closer to the edge, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to hold back much longer. He moved even faster, deeper, driven by a primal need to claim you as his own. 

"Yes, honey. You're totally mine. He repeated, his voice ragged. "And I'm going to make sure you never forget it." San lifted your leg over his shoulder, changing the angle of his thrusts. His hard tip directly met the sensitive spot, causing your whole body to tense up. 

"Oh god…don't stop…" The numbness and the excitement mixed together, driving you wild. You gasped and moaned his name over and over again as if it was the only word in your mind. Your hands were everywhere on his body, running over his chest and arms, nails digging into his skin. 

The tension within your body sent a signal to him, your soaked wall tightening around his fat cock each time he shoved to the depth. He knew that you just needed a little more, and he was determined to give it to you in order to push his big knot inside you. 

San leaned down, his mouth finding yours in a fierce, passionate kiss. You kissed him back without care, arching up your torso as you gave him over completely. You were lost in euphoria, lost in the feel of him inside you. Everything was just overwhelming but perfectly balanced. 

A little growl let out from his tongue as he suddenly pulled himself almost all the way out of you, then surged himself back in. "San!!Fuck!!" "You…really…like it..don't you?" You both gave growls which were mixed with moans, and his grip on your hips got tighter. He began to move with more force, letting his instincts completely take over and he was no longer in control of his desire. He wasn't going to stop, not until he had taken you over the edge and pushed his knot inside. 

His eyes roamed on your bare body, enjoying the sight of your chest bouncing up and down from his thrusting. "Look how beautiful you are…only me can pin you like this…Am I right, Y/N?" He suddenly stressed his last words, like he was using all his strength in his lower body to push against your tight walls.  "Answer me." "Ye…yes…Only you…" You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing every breath from your throat. He penetrated so deeply that your entire body began to quiver, caught in the battle to maintain a steady breath.

"Come on. Louder, Y/N. I know how loud you can be." San grinned, slapping his hips right straight to the point you scream out his name loud. He tugged your wrists harshly, making your whole body left in the air. What you could do was wrap your legs around his waist, trying your best to steady yourself while he kept thrusting, thrusting and thrusting. 

The skin slapping sound mixed your high-pitch moan and his heavy panting, making other noises fade away. Your back met the messy mattress once again as he pushed you down and folded you in a mating press. There was no mercy left but only raw emotion. His tip collided with the entrance of your cavity as if asking permission to enter inside. 

"Hm…San…" "Let go," he whispered, his voice rough and gravelly. "Let go, and give in to me." "San…San…" "Come for me," He commanded one more time. "Now."

It was like a bolt of lightning, striking through your body and igniting your euphonia even further. You arched up towards him, your lips meeting his in a breathless kiss. Your body was shaking with the force of the release, juices flowing out like a spring and your wall stretched to allow San to push his knot inside in one go. 

"FUCK!!!" "Hold on, honey…" A cry escaped from your lips as he shoved in without mercy. Excitement and pain blended together and heightened everything between you two. He pulled you up, positioning you to straddle on him. The knot went deeper as the tip entered your deepest, a hot wave running through all over your limbs as his white hot seed filled the cavity. 

You wrapped around his shoulder with your arms, your eyes shutting tightly as he sunk his fangs inside your nape, releasing his pheromones. The primal drive to claim and possess you overwhelming his mind and body. He growled deep in his throat, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pushed forward, ensuring his seed creamed all your cavity. "God…it feels good…" He let out a low murmur against your neck, the heat spreading through his body as his sperm kept splitting out non stop, filling your cavity literally full. 

"San…it's…too much…" You breathed, still trying to catch your breath after the high. "I…I can't…" "Behave." He gave your hips a smack to silence you, his grip tight on your backside to keep you in place. The way your walls clenched around him, pulling him in deeper and sucked the sperm in drove him wild. He was obsessed with this feeling, the thought that you were entirely his, and he would make sure you must his, completely and utterly. 

"Fuck…babe…" He let out a long throaty moan before capturing your lips in a fervent, possessive kiss, his body pressing against yours in a relentless, commanding rhythm. "You belong to me now… eternally mine…" he breathed against your mouth, his voice a low, urgent whisper. Just as you opened your mouth to respond, his lips crashed against yours once more, his tongue delving into your mouth with a wild, primal fervor. 

As the pleasure subsided, the kisses became less passionate but instead tender and soft. He held you in his arms, slowly parting from your lips and pressing several soft kisses all over your face and neck. His touch was gentle and loving, different from his rough self. "You're beautiful…Everything about you is just perfect…" 

You smiled weakly, your body still trembling with aftershocks. "You're not so bad yourself," you managed to say, your voice a little hoarse. 

"Not so bad?" San asked, feigning offense. "Is that all you have to say to me after I just rocked your world?" A cheeky grin spread across his face. "I'm hurt, sweetheart. Hurt."

"You're not really hurt," you said, rolling your eyes at his playful pout. "You just like making a big deal out of yourself." 

San pretended to ponder this for a moment before speaking. "You might be right," he finally admitted. "But can you really blame me? I am pretty amazing." He gave you another cheeky grin.

You rested your head on his shoulder, smiling a bit. "I have nowhere to go now… but you knitted me…that means I'll follow you everywhere."

"That's my pleasure." San responds to you with a loving smile, giving you another deep kiss. "I'll never let you go from me."

"Is that a promise?" 

"That's a swear." He pushed you down on the bed again before drawing you into a passionate kiss. 

At this point, everything else fades into insignificance. Yunho and Jessica who once occupied your thoughts are now mere shadows; your heart is set on being with San, and nothing else holds any weight…

Oh... it seems the game has slipped your minds entirely as well.

tag list: @angelsaway, @yeosangcutie0615, @monsta-x-jagi

[pitheinfiniteog]

Help Me Take My Account Back

Hi, this is Pi, Pitheinfinite, the founder of @pis3update and @pis3story & the joint founder of ts3creatorscave.

About a month ago, my original account @pitheinfinite got suspended by tumblr with no reason provided. I followed the protocol and filed my complaint but my patience got no reward. No response. Nothing At All.

It's time to take some real actions I think. Please help me by urging @staff to give my account back. Even though I've been on hiatus for quite some time and still don't have much time for the game or the community at the moment, I want to keep the place I've built for years, knowing that I always have a home here to go to.

Besides, my story sideblog pis3story, unlike pis3update, has only one member/admin, and will go down with my original account.

Please help me. Reblog this post and tag the staff, asking them to make things right. It's those porn zombie that they should go after, not the long term users. Thank you💜

[hard-core-super-star]

kate who gets horny when she sees reader wearing her hoddie 🙏🙏

-💜

what your hands were made for [K.Bishop]

pairing: bottom!kate bishop x top!reader

summary: kate ruins a cute moment by getting a little too excited about you wearing her hoodie.

warnings: SMUT -> minors, this isn't for you [grinding/humping; pet play is more than a little implied...my hand slipped :); kate gets needy and cums very fast; teasing; kate's praise kink goes brrr; subby puppy gf kate]

wordcount: 1.6k

a/n: i've missed writing for kate so much that i blacked out and wrote most of this in one sitting. i literally can't tell you who the dominant one is supposed to be here and i feel like that's exactly the way kate would like it lmao. anywho, i'm still thinking about the marvels so have this while i recover. i hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

It’s a cold early morning in New York when your eyes open to the sight of your adorable, sleeping, girlfriend. A small smile pulls at your lips as you take her in, everything from her disheveled hair to the subtle crinkle between her eyebrows sends your heart soaring.

You can’t resist the urge to reach out and tuck a piece of her wild hair behind her ear. She stirs but only to wrap her arms tighter around your waist, an incoherent murmur of a complaint tumbling out of her parted lips. 

Kate Bishop is many things…except a morning person, something you’ve had to learn the hard way. It’s honestly a miracle she’s managed to make it to most of her early morning missions on time considering how many attempts it takes to get her to even consider getting up in the morning.

It’s hard to find her bad habit annoying when she looks so damn cute, though. 

Unfortunately for her, you’re awake, you’re hungry and Clint’s supposed to drop off her beloved golden retriever in a few hours.

You don’t necessarily understand the arrangement the two archers have but you know it can’t do Lucky any harm to be taken to the Barton’s home every once in a while. Especially during weeks when Kate is swamped with superhero work and can’t find the energy to be dragged around Central Park for a few hours.

So, you disentangle yourself from the brunette’s strong embrace and get up. 

You hear her grumble again while your hands reach for the warmest thing in sight: one of Kate’s purple hoodies chaotically thrown onto her bedside table. Any other day you’d be fighting the urge to scold her for never putting her clothes in her ridiculously large closet but today, the hoodie saves you from the cold air that nips at your skin.  

The tell-tale sound of sheets rustling around fills the room for a few seconds before Kate speaks up.

“Where are you going?” She groans, her voice carrying traces of that sleep-filled raspiness you've come to love. 

“To get ready. Clint’s coming to drop off Lucky.”

“Yeah, but that's not until later and your girlfriend wants cuddles right now.”

You turn around to face her, ready to tease her for being such a grump in the morning, only to find the archer watching you with wide eyes.

“Um…you okay, babe?”

Your voice brings her out of her thoughts and you catch sight of the pink hue that threatens to overtake her beautiful face. “Yeah…yeah, just…that hoodie looks really good on you.”

“Thank you, I stole it from my grumpy girlfriend.” 

You're technically making fun of her but all she can focus on is the way her hoodie looks on you. On the subtle smirk that pulls at your lips and the small token of possession it represents. 

She's not a jealous person or an overly controlling partner but the thought of you wearing her things, of showing you're her partner and no one else’s…stirs something inside her that she's never felt before.

You can see it. 

The way her face slowly changes from a sleepy and dazed look to hungry eyes that seem to try to devour you with a single glance. It would be startling if you didn’t know her so well.

“Come here,” she says as she extends her arms out to you.

“You’re not even going to sit up?” You can’t resist the urge to tease her even while you do exactly what she asks of you.

She merely shakes her head in response, stable hands grabbing your waist and pulling you down on top of her. You don’t even get the chance to come up with another teasing remark before she’s leaning up and stealing your thoughts away with a kiss.

You sink into her, an almost inaudible sigh slipping out of your mouth and into Kate’s as the two of you mold together. Her hands mess with the fabric of the hoodie adorning your figure but she makes no move to remove the barrier just yet.

You assume she’s just waiting for your permission to take it off until she starts caressing you over the fabric. There’s no time to question what exactly she’s doing though since her lips detach from yours only so she can nip at your jawline. “God…you look so good in my clothes, baby.”

“Yeah? Is that why you’re trying to hump the air right now?”

The groan you hear in response is exactly what you’re expecting. 

What you don’t expect however is for her hips to literally buck against the air. Your words were supposed to be a joke but of course, your girlfriend would be into it. There’s a reason you call her your golden retriever girlfriend and it’s not just because of how loyal she is.  

Her hands go from soft and exploratory to demanding in an instant and you let out a groan of your own as she maneuvers your body until she’s able to trap your knee between her legs.

She’s been awake for less than ten minutes and she already has you right where she wants you.

“Kate-” She smothers the rest of your sentence with her lips and yet you can’t find it in yourself to be mad about the interruption.

You’re too busy kissing her back to attempt to tease her once she starts moving against you, impatient hips rocking every which way to find some relief. It’s hot and adorable in ways that make your heart clench and your clit throb with need. 

“Fuck,” she mumbles against your lips.

You take the opportunity to glide your hands underneath her shirt and remove it from her in one move. She shudders, both from the cold air and the pleasure overtaking her body, and it’s a sight you don't ever want to forget.

Kate’s desperation is palpable but you enjoy watching the way she writhes under you too much to touch her the way she needs. You merely let her grind against you while your hands explore her chest, basking in the beautiful, needy, sounds you draw out of her.

You're in the middle of teasing her hardened nipples when she breaks. 

“y/n…babe…please…” There’s no sweeter sound than the sound of your girlfriend giving in to the pleasure only you can make her feel. 

“Already?” You ask through a chuckle, watching as your words make her eyes clench shut. “I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Shut up,” she grumbles before another moan tumbles out of her.

She grips the front of your hoodie with an iron grip, pulling you down against her so she can kiss you again. You let her do what she wants while enjoying every beautiful second of her borderline frantic movements. 

It’s unreal how fast she crumbles under you, how quick she is to lose the confident act and let herself drop into a state where all she wants, all she needs, is you. Even the air she breathes is incomparable to how alive you make her feel during moments like these.

Your lips leave hers right as you push your knee against her center. You’re sure she’s seconds away from soaking through her sweatpants considering how hard she’s humping you. 

“y/n-” She gasps, her back arched and her muscles strained while she rocks against you. “Please, I can’t…”

You admire her for a few seconds before giving her the permission she not so secretly craves. “I know, you’re just a needy pup, aren’t you? You can’t help yourself, can you, Katie?”

Her eyes fly open at that and the dazed look in her eyes is more than enough of a reward for you. She nods furiously in response, clearly only a few mess thrusts away from falling apart. “Yes, yes, I am, please, baby.”

“Good girl,” you say with that proud grin that makes her melt every time. “Go on, cum for me, puppy.”

The reaction your words coax out of her is instantaneous and it’s more than enough to leave your own underwear soaked through. Your arousal is the last thing on your mind though when you have a whiny, shaky Kate Bishop wildly grinding against you while she succumbs to her orgasm and the searing pleasure it leaves behind.  

You watch her for a few seconds, doing everything in your power to commit the sight to memory, before leaning down and pressing a few feather-light kisses to her sweaty skin. “So pretty for me, you did so good, puppy.”

The only sound that comes out of her is her heavy breathing and the quiet whine she can’t keep in every time she hears you call her puppy again. It takes her a few seconds to come back down to Earth and you wait patiently for her, pressing soft kisses all over her face and mumbling all the words that soothe the gentle storm inside of her.

Her hands finally release your hoodie and she wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer and groaning when you move so you’re not pressing up against her cunt anymore.

“You okay?” You whisper against her.

“Mhmm. More than okay, actually.” 

Kate doesn’t give you a chance to respond. She doesn't give you a chance to do anything but let out a gasp as she rolls the two of you over and triumphantly lands on top of you.

She wastes no time in burying her flushed face into your neck and nuzzling the warm skin she finds.

“We’re gonna have to get up eventually, puppy,” you remind her even though you’re already running your fingers through her messy hair and basking in the intimacy of the moment. 

“That sounds like a problem for later.”

She’s technically not wrong and it’s obvious she’s mere seconds from falling asleep again so you bite your tongue and let her have her win. As far as mornings go, this might be your favorite way of spending them, tangled up completely with the archer that owns your heart.

[skibasyndrome]

Hi Simon!

How about "Hate me" for the short but impactful phrases?👀 Feel free to make this as angsty or not angsty as you want!!💜

Thank you so much for the ask, Annika! 💜

Simon knows it's a bad idea, Wille has always been a bad idea, maybe one of the worst ideas Simon has ever had. But Simon now is no smarter man than the boy he used to be. It's too easy to follow Wille out onto the balcony, to flee from all the party noise and pounding music. The implications tie Simon's insides into knots. He doesn't know what he was expecting, if he was expecting anything at all. But he's still surprised to find Wille perched over the railing, body heaving and a lit cigarette clutched between his cramped fingers. The panicking isn't new, the smoking is. But it's not like Simon has been following the tabloid coverage of the crown prince to find out. Some smart part of him feels an immediate pull, an urge to make it better, to do what he's always been good at doing, but Simon stops himself halfway towards Wille. This isn't the boy he used to know, this is a stranger. Simon is a goddamn idiot. But it's too late, Wille has heard him, is whipping his head around with a panicked expression on his face that cuts right to Simon's core. Wille coughs once, then sniffles, quickly straightens up again. His cordial nod is unsteady and Simon takes a sick sort of enjoyment in that. It's good to know that he's not the only one barely keeping it together. "Hi," he says, not fully trusting his voice quite yet, but needing something to cut through their tense silence. He's relieved when Wille averts his eyes from Simon. Simon has never stood a chance against those. Wille nods again, looking out into the darkness now, takes a drag of the cigarette he seems to only remember now. Something about the whole picture makes Simon unreasonably angry. Entirely way too fucking angry for someone who promised himself that he was long over the pain and the grief and the what-if's. It's the silence, the fucking silence. The one thing Wille's always been great at, keeping everything to himself. It's the anger that pushes Simon forward, that loosens his tongue. "You never even-," he's immediately interrupted. "Hate me," Wille says, like it's the simplest thing in the universe. Simon is stunned by the nonchalance, the self-evidence, the fucking calmness. "You're right to," Wille continues, not looking up at Simon as he stubs out the last of his cigarette on the metal railing. "I know you do, and you're fucking right to." Simon feels sick to his core at the way the corners of Wille's lips curl upwards as he stares unseeingly ahead. He wanted anger, he wanted to scream at Wille, to make him see, to make him feel, he didn't want whatever this is. Simon isn't prepared for Wille to turn to him again. His hair is longer again these days, hanging into his face in strands that feel too familiar to Simon. He isn't prepared for any of this, he realizes. But it's too late. "You do, don't you?" Wille asks, and Simon is almost relieved to find his voice wavering, his lip trembling. Even with everything inside of him screaming to turn around and leave, Simon stays. Stays and nods. Wille closes his eyes and mirrors the movement, smiling almost wistfully. And for the sliver of a second, a tiny moment, barely long enough for Simon to believe it's real, there's something youthful to his face, something that chases away the angry wrinkles in his forehead, the dark rings under his eyes. "That's okay." Wille's voice sounds too small for his body. "I do, too," he continues and Simon thinks he's going to be sick. He doesn't want to be having this conversation, he doesn't want to know this, he doesn't want to care, he doesn't want to feel like he needs to reach out and make it better. "I fucked up the one good thing I had in life." Simon doesn't want to hear it, he doesn't want to care so goddamn much, still, after all this fucking time. He balls his fists, digs his nails into his palms to make himself wake up from this trance, to get his body to move. "I hurt the one person I've ever really loved." Simon now is no smarter man than the boy he used to be.

idk why I'm in such an angsty mood dskghdjkfgh but you said this was okay. rip tho.

Send me one of these prompts for a short lil story 💜

[merbear25]

Requested by @1dkneo original ask

Thank you so much for participating and sending in such a juicy request for Law 😏 Hope you like it 💜🧡

The soft hums coming from your sleeping form, the gentle rises and falls of your chest, and the subtle twitches on your resting face: you’d fallen asleep on the sofa in his office. Even with him having told you not to bother waiting up for him, you insisted on it. Now, you tempted him in your unconscious state, his mind doing laps around the agreement you and he had come to—a desire to explore new aspects of intimacy together.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, established relationship, sleep play, fingering, vaginal penetration, creampie

A gentle lull to sleep (Law)

“I’ve been thinking…” You knocked your knee against his to get his full attention. “We could expand our horizons a bit more in the bedroom.” Your voice trailed into his ear, swirling in his mind and asserting dominance over all other prior thoughts.

“And?” He cocked an eyebrow at you, urging you to continue.

“Well, I have this fantasy I’ve been holding onto for a while,” you teased the idea further. He didn’t respond verbally, only narrowing his eyes at you—a silent command. 

“How would you feel about experimenting with sleep play?” There was a tinge of embarrassment as the question passed your lips. Despite having been together for nearly a year now, there were aspects of your preferences that you had yet to share with him.

His stern gaze held onto you for a moment before looking away. A thoughtful expression played at it as your question sank in. “Is that something you're truly considering?” When you nodded, he asked, “Why?”

You took a minute to orchestrate how best to explain it. “It's to do with the fantasy of being ‘used’. Knowing that one cannot resist the temptation gnawing at them and ultimately giving into their urges…well, it's thrilling, really.” There was a dreamy air to you now, one which was rather intoxicating.

Listening to the desire held in your voice as each word fell from your lips tugged at his curiosity. Not having been interested in it prior, he couldn't deny the fascination it was stirring within him.

“Perhaps, it's something worth exploring if you feel that drawn to it.” Even with the apathy in his demeanor, he wasn't one to say something without it holding meaning.

There was a flutter in your heart. You leaned in to place a light kiss on his shoulder, making him stir a bit in his seat.

As the long day came to a close, your disgruntled boyfriend hid himself away in the home office to finalize the necessities for the following day. With the conversation from earlier whispering in your ear, you decided to attempt to entice Law into stepping out of his comfort zone by offering him the opportunity you hoped he couldn’t resist claiming.

Knocking on the wooden door, you waited for his hmph before entering his space. “Law? Are you coming to bed any time soon?”

He shook his head, appearing to be swamped with tasks. “No, you can go to bed without me. I’ll be at this for at least a few more hours.”

You sat down on the sofa, curling your legs underneath yourself. The silk pajama shorts and tank top covered your bare skin like a finely wrapped present, one which you were determined to coax him into unwrapping.

“I can stay with you for a little while.” Even if he wasn’t looking up at you, your voice indicated a tender smile being shown his way. “I’ve missed you. You’ve been cooped up in here most of the week.”

“I know,” he sighed while rubbing the bridge of his nose. “But I can’t exactly chitchat.”

You nodded in understanding. The reality was that you simply enjoyed being in his company. Even when it wasn’t possible to spend time together, you viewed sitting quietly in the other’s proximity to be a nice enough compromise. However, there were needs on both sides that went neglected.

The moonlight ticked across the floor, illuminating against the tall bookcase and then to the sofa where you sat. As the hours passed, you grew more and more weary. Lying down, the fabric of the sofa was more inviting than you had anticipated. As you closed your eyes, the silver glow of the outside world shined brightly on you.

At first, he didn’t notice that you had sprawled out on the furniture. His eyes glanced over at you; you appeared so fragile and vulnerable. It was then that the fantasies you confined in him came knocking.

You truly did look ravishing while you slept. Each hug of your curves that dainty fabric gave left little to the imagination. What lay beneath wasn’t anything new to him, and yet it made his heart race all the same.

The beauty of the moon painted you with its elegance. He leaned to the side to get a better look at your face, and as your lips and brow twitched from the dreams running rampant, he drummed his fingers lightly on his lap. 

“It couldn’t hurt to get a bit closer,” he convinced himself under his breath. As he kneeled down beside you, the gentle breaths coming from you made him bite his bottom lip ever so slightly from the build up. 

He ran his fingers up your thigh, the light touch sent shivers over your body but wasn’t enough to wake you. You felt so soft, so inviting. His hands moved under your shorts, taking time to explore each curve they were covering. He hummed softly and closed his eyes from the pleasure such intimacy was giving him.

When his fingertips danced further, his eyes widened and a slyness tugged at the corner of his lips—you weren’t wearing underwear. “You cheeky little thing,” he murmured. Assuming you’d planned this - to fall asleep in front of him after opening up about that wild fantasy of yours - his movements were guided more confidently. 

Being careful not to stir you awake, his hands worked lightly against your warmth. Despite being in a supposed deep slumber, the heat between your legs burned for his caress. His nimble fingers glided over your damp lips, teasing the wetness budding from between them. Your clit was grazed over, which caused your breath to become shaky. As much as he wanted to play with the sweet bundle between your folds, he feared it would lure you out of your dream. 

He dipped a tattooed finger in, and then two to stretch you out enough to adapt to his hardened length. Your arousal coated him and trickled down to the front of your shorts. You were just as gorgeous like this as you were when you were awake.

Tugging your garments to the side, his tip pressed against your entrance. The furrow of your brow forced him to refrain from going much deeper. Slowly, he thrusted into you, just enough for your slick walls to send shivers down his spine.

His huffs became more strained. You looked so sweet like this—an angel that was his to pluck from the heavens and corrupt in the brimstone pits he resided in.

The soft flesh on your ass shook gently from his waning restraint. When he reached out to grab you, a dreamy sigh escaped your lips. Your dark desire was becoming his own. The cream of your bliss coated his length, sending him into a frenzy.

He bit his lower lip in a desperate attempt to muffle his own sounds of ecstasy. His jaw slacked, his hand caressed your side, and even with his increasing want to press deeper, he held back. Your sleeping body was wrapped around him so perfectly; it drove him wild.

With a final thrust, his entire body shook. His muscles contracted as he pumped each part of himself into you, unable to hold back his choked gasps any longer. He moved his grip to the furniture, gasping as his hands white knuckled and he stopped himself from slamming his hips against yours.

Gazing down at you, your expression remained in its peaceful state. A weak smile spread on his face before pulling out. His cum beaded around your entrance and dripped down your wet slit, creating the perfect slide down to the front of your clothes.

He looked around for a moment. A groan from the stack of work he was determined to get through grumbled in his throat. Bedtime was a long ways away for him, but he could at least put you to sleep properly.

Scooping you up, he gently carried you out of the office. The way your small hand instinctively curled against his chest sent his heart soring. You were a gift, one which was beyond his understanding as to what he did to deserve you. When he placed you down and pulled the covers over you, he leaned down to plant another kiss on your temple.

After he closed the door, you rubbed your sleepy eyes and smiled to yourself because now you felt like you could finally drift off to sleep.

[sashi-ya]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 5: PREGNANCY Kyoraku Shunsui 𝘹 𝘍! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Requested by: @the-witch-of-one-piece ➡ Hello my beautiful soul sister!!! Ahh I’m so excited for this kinktober! I raced into your inbox trying to calm down my feral kink coming out of me 😂😂 if it’s okay to request Shunsui with a fem reader for day 5 pregnancy! This man would be the best soon to be daddy 🥺💜🛐 thank you so much my beautiful soul sister!!! TE AMO MUCHO !!!!!!! ➡ también te amo mucho my soul sister! 💖 tw: mdni. pregnancy kink. reader IS pregnant. nipple play. semi public sex. humping. vag sex. 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The outcome of so many nights of passion showed beautiful in your body. The little bump growing strong and healthy, your anatomy changing, your mood somethings swinging.

You were preparing yourself, and the house, for the new life that would be there in some months. And while you did, the general captain of the Gotei 13 couldn’t help but praise you.

Sitting comfortably in the garden of the Shunsui manor, the soon to be dad enjoys a sip of his beloved sake. While you, comfortably enjoy gardening under a soft spring breeze. It was calmer than ever before, after all that had happened with the invasion none of you had time to be at peace for a long time.

“You are a goddess, my love” Kyoraku chimes, leaving the cup on a little table next to him.

“Shut up, you! I am getting fat, look…” you joke, you love more than anyone how beautiful your belly looks.

Shunsui stands up, sighing. He can’t let a queen think that way of herself. Walking a few steps towards you, he takes his hat in between his hands and bends over to where you are.

“I am not trying to be rude, so I will ask you to please excuse my language… but fat is how I get down there when I see you, miss” he murmurs, acting innocent despite saying such thing.

You leave the little gardening tool in your hand to look at him with your mouth open.

“Kyoraku Shunsui, would you mind watching your mouth in front of your baby?” you scold him, sweetly, while acting incensed at his words and caressing your belly.

He takes his hat to his naked chest in signs of being sorry, but all of a sudden he snatches in arms as if you where less heavy than a feather.

“Honey- what? What are you doing?!” you protest, while safe resting in his embrace.

“Listen here, the eyes you just gave me… you being pregnant, everything about you… ugh- believe me that the baby won’t tell for now” he says, walking calmly to the wooden swing you have in your garden.

Shunsui sits back, with you still in his arms. Despite your pregnancy he is way bigger than you in every sense.

He grunts and comfortably sits you over his lap. “Com’ere” he purrs, opening your yukata with absolutely no worries.

You are silent, but with a huge smirk on your face. You know what’s next and you want it so bad…

Shunsui seems to be gloating at how full your breasts are looking; pregnancy is making your body an experience he doesn’t want to miss; he wants to love you in every single stage of yourself.

“Allow me, before this belongs to someone else ~” he scoffs, while his hands cups one of your breasts and takes it to his lips.

You moan instantly after he plants the first kiss over your hard nipples. Everything has been feeling a lot more sensitive.

He sucks, slowly. He nibbles, kindly. He doesn’t want to hurt her precious wife nor coming baby.

Your back curls as he keeps playing, changing from breast to breast and sometimes burying his head in between them. His huge hand, lies on your warm back flesh, holding you for you to lie as comfortably as you please while he gives you pleasure.

You can’t help but begin to move back and forth, humping on his hardening crotch. You can feel his growth hitting against your core and in both cases getting wetter and needier. The motions of the swing also accompany yours, edging you two a state very close to climax.

“I…” you whine, urging your husband to fuck you. “Already? But what if I hurt you…?” he asks, knowing too well he won’t. Kyoraku Shunsui enjoys your begging for his dick. He wants you to plead to be penetrated and pleased.

Panting, reaching his lips with yours, needy… “please, fuck me… do it…”

“How do you ask properly, doll?” he asks back, already lifting your hip enough for his hakama pants to slide down.

You swallow. You have always called him “daddy” and now, it won’t be the exception; this time Shunsui deserves more than ever to be called that way.   

“Daddy, fuck me… please ~” you purr, letting your yukata to fall to the ground to show him in full display your beautiful “mommy” body.

He smirks, pleased. His hands first reach for your swollen belly, up and down and around your waist.

“Now, if I may… let daddy fuck you the way you deserve my sweet, beautiful mommy” “Nghh… deeper… go- deeper, daddy!” ~

taglist: @miabiaria @carmenthedreamer @stygianoir @electronicwitchcollection @aizenwifey @deputy-videogamer @efrodd17 @mizugami @uzxotic @cyberdazetragedy @bookandyarndragon 💖

[poetryvampire]

Can I request headcanons for poly Zevlor and Rolan reacting to gn human Tav genuinely asking both of them if either one of them regrets being in a relationship with them because they don't understand the struggles of being a tiefling and they know how much both men suffered just because both of them are with them? With a happy ending please?

Hello my dear sweet anon! Once again I apologize for taking like a 100 years on this. I've been a little weird lately but as always I loved this idea and was happy to toy with it. Pls enjoy 💜💖💜(✿◡‿◡)

• It's quite late by the time the three of you are walking home from an evening at Elfsong. Rolan, the most inebriated of the group, leads the way, yapping loudly about his latest experiment. Lightly buzzed, you walk arm and arm with Zevlor the both of you enjoying your partner's enthusiasm. It was a beautiful evening until a group of voices in the distances grew louder. 

• "Hey! You alright?" you hear from a few feet behind. You turn to see a human man about your age and a few more men standing farther away. You've never seen him before but he asks again if you need any help. Thinking he was a sort of adventurer you laugh and thank him saying you'll be fine but still the man insists. Zevlor's grip tightens on your arm, understanding what the man is really saying.

•Awkwardly you try to humor the man a little but he keeps asking you questions like where you're going and why. Confused, you turn to Zevlor whose face is stern with rage. He urges you to keep going when suddenly the man grabs your free arm, yanking you back with an unexpected force that sends you tumbling to the ground.

• For a moment chaos erupts around you. The man bellows insults and horrid actuations at your beloved while throwing punches. It isn't long before Zevlor captures him tightly by the throat. You can’t hear exactly what he's saying to the man but by the fear on his face it can’t be pleasant.  He's practically blue by the time the tiefling throws him towards his gang. Zevlor stands his ground and the group scoop up the man and leave. 

• Rolan's at your side the whole rest of the way home. There's a horrible tension in the air. Feeling stupid for talking to the man at all you try to apologize to Zevlor but he doesn't respond, making you panic inside. Your head is spinning, both shocked at the boldness of him to try and ‘save’ you and disgusted that he would think the men you loved were taking you somewhere against your will. Mostly you were saddened by seeing your wonderful partners treated like that once again. 

• “Well that was buzzkill” Rolan murmured, coming from the kitchen with a fresh bottle of wine. The moment you had gotten home Zevlor made himself scarce and you melancholily slumped on the couch starring absentmindedly into fire. Rolan cozied up beside you putting his arm around you. He tells not to worry about it but you can’t help but pour your heart out to him to which he listens patiently. 

 •  Eventually you work up the courage to ask something that’s crossed your mind more than you wanted to admit. “Sometimes I wonder,” you begin, trying not to sound too harsh. “If things would be better for you two if you were with someone else.” Rolan tried to protest but you stopped him. “Please, it’s just- I try to understand but I don’t-I can’t understand what you go through beings tielfings and I feel like I make things worse sometimes I feel like you might- I mean- I don’t want either of you to regret being with me.”     

 •  “Oh, sweetheart,” Zevlor broke the silence as he perched on the other side of you. You weren’t certain when he had appeared but by the grave look on his face he had heard you clearly. The older man still kept a bit of distance which did nothing to lessen your fears. Rolan, on the other hand, pressed himself close to you, nuzzling right into your neck like some great cat. You loved how openly affectionate he was when he had been drinking. “Don’t say that, don’t even think it.” Rolan said before kissing you several times. 

    •  Rolan boldly affirmed that he didn’t care how many people despised them. He loved you and wanted to be with you and didn’t care that you’re human. He promised he would never hold that against you or regret the relationship. As you clung to each Rolan spouted more words of love, now jovial and over the top in a bid to make you laugh. It helped but your eyes traveled to Zevlor who smiled weakly. 

  •  “I’d be lying to say I don’t wonder such things as well. Certainly things would be easier if you were a tielfing or we human. At times I wish things were different. ” Zevlor began slowly. You could feel your heart sink just as Rolan stopped his display to regard your partner. Sensing your fears Zevlor moved closer and took your hand. “My heart, I could no more regret you than I could regret breathing. But I wish you could be spared such things, it pains me that all my family must suffer no matter the race. I did not mean to get so worked up but seeing him grab you like that- Gods my blood’s boiling at thought. ” 

 • “Than come closer and let us calm you, my love.” Rolan coos, grabbing Zevlor and peppering his face with kisses. You can’t help but smile as the tension of worry finally lifts from you and you join Rolan, raining kisses on your beloved commander. “Do you think any nitwit to blather at us in the street has even known such a love as ours? Has ever had two beauties show them such affection? ” Rolan laughs and soon Zevlor joins him and you feel a sudden warmth spread over you, the joy of seeing your two favourite people happy. The best feeling in the world.