#I would send you this but you already had it sent to you

[alchemistc]

You never let me in, Buck sends, two of three sheets fully winded, and when he kicks his leg over the coffee table he nearly knocks over three empties.

They do this thing, right? Buck gets upset and before the tears can fall, because he's cried too many fucking times already, he makes himself angry. Picks at something that has come up every time he's done a post-mortem on the last six months.

And then he sends that shit to Tommy. Because - because who the fuck else is he supposed to talk to about it? The guy who'd sucked him off in the hallway of a nightclub two weeks ago? The woman who'd spent an hour quietly helping Buck understand that yeah, he was very much bi, and yeah, some people did not like that shit? Maddie, or Chim, or Hen or Eddie, who still might interact with him on the job? Bobby? Fuck, not Bobby.

Bobby who'd blinked at Buck and offered platitudes and apologized to Buck like it was somehow his fault Tommy was good people but he was the kind of good people who just walked out on something that could have been something.

I should have pushed more. I know I should have. I just thought since I was trying to share everything, you were too.

My mistake.

Three months and Buck isn't over it. He's far enough into the mourning process that he thinks this one is always gonna sting, and not for the reasons Tommy thinks.

That's not fair. I'm sorry.

The texts get delivered. Tommy reads them. Buck's had read receipts on since the first time Tommy went quiet on a call and Buck freaked out a little - but back then they were still working towards something. Back then, sometimes Tommy would pull out his phone and open the thread just to give Buck sign of life.

He was always doing that. Heading shit off at the pass.

Buck had just never realized he'd be able to do it to hurt him, just as well as take care of him.

Every four weeks like clockwork Buck gets a response. He has no fucking idea why it's four weeks, what the third Thursday of the month has to do with Tommy feeling gracious enough to give Buck some clarity. He'd never known enough about Tommy, is the thing he's coming around to. He'd done everything he could to bring Tommy in, make him a part, and Tommy had let him. Tommy had distracted him with quippy words and a clever tongue and with being so fucking willing to be integrated into Buck's life that Buck just - hadn't noticed.

No one will say it, but he Bucked It Up in the worst kind of way.

He's waited until Third Thursday to send these texts. He actually hasn't sent anything at all, until this moment, and he wonders if Tommy noticed. If he cared. Tommy picks and chooses from Buck's random thoughts, parses out details like he's reading from a manual and Buck is off topic two thirds of the time. Buck doesn't actually know why he's been answering, all this time. He wonders if, in the last four weeks of silence, he thought he was finally done with Buck.

He wonders if it had hurt.

Buck sets his phone down to stand, skating across to the kitchen in his socks for the pizza rolls in the oven.

His diet is shit. His body feels like crap. He's one more drunken nights sleep on the couch away from emptying the rack in his fridge down the drain and giving sobriety a try. The last person he'd slept with had hinted that they'd prefer not to use condoms and Buck had almost let them.

Buck has worth. He knows he does. It's just sometimes when he remembers that every person he's ever loved has either walked out on him or let him walk away when he needed them, he struggles to find that worth.

His life has meaning, and all that jazz.

Buck sort of wonders if Tommy hasn't finally blocked his number, as he tosses a too-hot pizza roll in his mouth and huffs on the lava cheese burning his tongue. After the last message Buck had sent, three weeks ago, he wouldn't exactly be surprised.

(This is basically just an unhinged grief journal with an unreliable second narrator. Do you know what it's like to realize you're still in love with someone who never let you know them?)

There's been no response to that. Fair. Buck hadn't even actually said the words. No, he'd jumped right into the sharing a life part, cart before the horse as always when emotions were high.

The pizza rolls get tipped onto a plate and are immediately swimming in the heavy pour of ranch he'd prepared after he set the oven to preheat.

It cools them off a lot quicker than popping a hole in each seam and waiting.

It's been eight years since Buck has really even thought about that little trick.

When he opens his phone there's no response. No receipt. Just stark words waiting to be acknowledged.

I gave you my family, Tommy. You didn't even introduce me to your team at Harbor.

It's startling to realize after the fact. He doubts Tommy had meant it that way, but he'd basically spent six months being love bombed only to have the rug ripped right out from under his feet.

And yet. Months later and he still wants to know. Know why. Know how he could have done it, with tears in his eyes, with full awareness that it was already gonna hurt. Know Tommy - anything he'd part with, really, that wasn't something every random acquaintance also knew.

Cool, he'd been jealous of what Buck and the 118 had. (Buck had tried to give him that. Or at least he thought he had.)

Great, he didn't talk to his dad and Gerrard was a shitty captain. (Buck had spent an hour once explaining the first time he and his dad had spoken about Daniel without screaming at each other. Tommy had listened to the rants about Gerrard and offered physical comfort and a 'sounds like him' and Buck had just been so relieved to have an ally amongst the 'life is just like this sometimes' crowd that he'd never examined that.)

He was a Kinsey six who'd been engaged to the first woman Buck had ever really loved and they'd never dug deeper than that.

And Buck had apparently interpreted some of the shit he'd said that night wrong, but he still doesn't think it's fucking fair that Tommy can't trust him to know his own fucking mind well enough to know he hates sleeping around and he'd found the sort of connection he was looking for. He'd found it. Even with the lack of reciprocation. Even with the quiet behind Tommy's eyes that he'd never let Buck in on. Even with the -

His phone buzzes on the coffee table.

Can we talk?

Buck kinda hates those words in that order now. They'd been the start of something twice, but they'd always been leading to an end, if Tommy had his way.

Once every four weeks, apparently, Buck sends back and takes a vicious bite.

His phone chimes with an incoming call.

Buck stares at the name he hasn't had the stomach to remove the little heart from. Lets it ring through to voicemail and then shoves three more pizza rolls into his mouth and doesn't care if they burn off his taste buds.

His phone rings again.

"What?"

"I'm outside your building. Didn't want to make any assumptions that I'd be welcome without asking first."

Buck can feel his ribs cracking under the lurch of angry laughter. "What the hell?"

"Well the parking around here is miserable again, so I figure that's a sign."

"Are you driving right now?"

"Hands off. I'm on Bluetooth. So. Should I circle the building a fifth time or call it now and go home?"

Buck gets stuck on fifth time.

There's no way he hadn't been driving since at least before Buck sent that first text.

Buck sighs. There's absolutely no reason to be hopeful about that. For all he knows, Tommy has just decided dousing any residual flames is just another thing he has to do in person.

"My Jeep's in the shop. I'll buzz you into the garage."

Tommy's silent for a long, long moment. The quip comes anyway. "I keep telling you that thing is a money pit."

"I'm not really feeling the flirty banter, right now, Tommy, so maybe just let me know when you're at the gate."

He does. He hangs up the phone twenty seconds later with a plain "See you soon."

Buck doesn't have time to change. Fix his hair. Hide the sheet pan with half a dozen pizza rolls still laying on it, because he'd cooked way too many again.

(He could absolutely do one of these things but if Tommy's gonna throw this at him, he's getting every little slovenly habit Bucks's picked up since he walked out that door.)

The knock comes while Buck's shoving the last two rolls on his plate into his mouth.

He's still chewing with his mouth open to blow out the steam when he swings the door open, and Buck feels the first inklings of pleasure ripple through him at the sight of Tommy.

He looks like shit.

"You look like shit."

Tommy's brow ticks up. He stares pointedly at the glob of not-cheese that's going to absolutely ruin this sweatshirt.

"That tends to happen when you spend an hour in an armchair two sizes too small picking at trauma you've been hiding from your therapist for six years."

Buck opens the door wider. Holy crap. Tommy might legitimately be more fucked up than Buck.

Tommy's smile is strained. "Can I come in?"

Buck holds his gaze. His eyes are a little red. He's got a red spot along the side of his neck, like he's been rubbing at it. Buck only recognizes it as a comforting motion because he's replayed him doing it half a million times right before he ended things.

"Depends. Is this the last time you respond to my mean, rude, asshole texts for an hour after therapy rubs you raw?" Third Thursday Therapy, is apparently what does it. Buck is - god. He just wants -

"God, I hope not," Tommy says, and Buck takes a step to the side to let Tommy in.

[henneseyhoe]

Right Where I Want You.

Terry Richmond x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: Rough sex (Nothing too serious, she just chokes him a lil), Dirty talk, DOM!reader, SUB!Terry, Mommy kink (yeah you heard me, we get real nasty over here..), PWP, Short!, Not completely proof read.

SUMMARY: nah. lol

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the sound of clapping could be heard from the next room over even with the door closed. They both made no moves to quiet down either, the squeaky springs of the bed only applauded her on her bouncing, giving her the praises she needed for taking a dick this size. The stretch was delicious, the girth making her feel stuffed, and the length reaching places so deep that she could barely sit down all the way.

But how she rode was already enough for Terry, she didn’t have to sit all the way. He was already so gone. The way Terry was moaning her name with curses following, you’d think that was the only english he knew.

Her heels dug into the bed beneath them, the sensation of the soft silks against his bare skin heightening his pleasure. He had begged her just minutes before to use him, fuck him into his own bed and leave him wondering why you hadn’t come along sooner, why he didn’t come find you instead. He didn’t care if it was pathetic, there was some things he could live with happily without embarrassment. There was just something about you that could make a man kneel at your feet, cry, even.

“Enjoying yourself?”

She asks before moaning, her head lulling back for a second as she felt the tip of him brush over exactly where she wanted him the most. Her voice was so tantalizing, laced with a sweetheart tone and dominance as she knew she could take away what he needed the most in this moment; a tight pussy gripping his dick and a nut that would send him to another dimension. She knew damn well he was doing more than enjoying himself.

His abs tightened under his brown skin and he cried out, opting to hold onto the headboard instead of her hips to avoid her stopping like she did last time he touched her without permission.

“Fuck, baby!”

His hips bucked wildly as the sensitivity of him became almost unbearable. He hadn’t even came yet, multiple orgasms purposely ruined being the reason for the constant tightness in his balls and stomach. She, on the other hand, had already came three times. On his fingers, on his face, on that dick. Her cream stuck to his shaft and balls, making wet, sticky sounds every time her fat ass bounced back down on him, making him release another spurt of precum into her walls.

Her cream was still warm, used as lube to help her ride that thick dick efficiently enough to have him seeing stars.

And stars he did indeed see, the glasses perched on his nose providing no help with vision as he clenched his eyes closed.

“You boutta cum for me, baby? You know better to ask mommy first”

She runs her pierced tongue over her lips and begins rubbing her poor little clit with her dominant hand, ignoring the indescribable pain from sensitivity that also somehow brought her pleasure. She used her other hand to slowly wrap itself around Terry’s throat, squeezing slightly to bring him out his euphoric daze.

Once he had opened his eyes, he got to admire her again, eyes flickering from her pretty face to the urging hand between her thighs.

She went even harder on him, staring into his piercing eyes with a clear desire to break him just in case any other bitch thought she could do what she does to him. No one else could have him, a grown man, begging to be fucked, on his knees with his face in her lap.

“You like when I fuck you like this. You like when I use you” She guides him into a nod, a satisfied smile on her face as he agrees.

“Yes- fuck!”

“Mhmm. You love this pussy don’t you?”

“Yes, yes, yes! I love this pussy, mommy”

His words sent her into overdrive. That was the first time he had ever compiled and called her the self given pet name. She knew he was right where she wanted him now. There was nothing he wouldn’t say or do for her.

“Cum inside me, baby. Fill mommy up”

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💌- ngl this was just sumn sweet for the fuckin kids till december 🥴 did NOT mean for it to be like dis!

[smartkookiee]

How to Lose A Guy in 30 Days! || Ch.3 — jjk.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: strangers to lovers, 18+ ❥chapter warnings/tags: software engineer!Jungkook, writer!Reader, fluff, 2000 rom com vibes, making out, flirting. drinking, swearing, crying, sweet pining Jungkook, Jungkooks past comes up (boooooo), ex situationship thingsss, its a sweet chapter and they make out and I love it, legit the easiest chapter I have written so far ❥word-count: 10.7k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 - send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list. ❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Day 3

“And you really believe this guy is going to work for this?” Yoongi said, looking over your notes and layout of the entire plan you had.

“Absolutely sir.” You nod. 

It was the Tuesday following you and Jungkook’s date. You two had gotten some dinner and then you went home. You tried not to let that text ruin your mood but it did bring you down for the meal. You and Jungkook just talked more about what you do and things you liked. Just easy conversation and sharing social media, small things that you could mask your disappointment with and give cheerful and in depth answers too. 

That text sucked to see. It sucked to see that he made this promise to be serious but he was just playing you.To be fair, you didn’t know him. It was your first date and he didn’t owe you anything. It would just make this easier. 

"Already past the first date. You’re jumping in head first," Yoongi mused, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "So, what’s next?"

"The plan is to keep things moving. I only have thirty days, so I wanted to start strong. The first date was just to break the ice. Now, I'm aiming to stay in touch throughout the weeks—get more annoying to make sure I stay on his radar." 

Yoongi chuckled. "And what does annoying entail in this case?"

You grinned, feeling a mischievous spark. "I was thinking some things like being a little too clingy. Getting a bit too personal too soon. Social media stalking, maybe even acting overly sensitive to anything he says about 'dating' or 'us.' Just... trying to inch my way into his daily life, so he can’t quite shake me off. Then next week I will take things to the next step."

Yoongi nodded in approval. "I like it. Thorough and unexpected, just what we want. Let’s round back around next week and check-in. We’ll go over your progress and adjust as needed. You’re off to a good start."

You gave him a grateful nod. "Thank you, sir."

With a wave of his hand, “Now go write, be amazing.” Yoongi dismissed you, and you returned to your desk, your mind already spinning with ideas. You were ready to dive into this full force, but there was one small snag, a small but persistent worry. You’d sent Jungkook a quick text yesterday, just a light “good morning” and a note about enjoying the date, but there hadn’t been a reply yet.

It wasn’t a big deal but already not responding to a text after a whole day was not sitting well with you.

Settling yourself down into your chair, that small disappointment from seeing that text on Jungkook's phone was still nagging at you. Your friends had warned you not to get attached, to keep things light, but you’d ignored them. They called this from a million miles away and you, like an idiot, let your guard down like always. 

Well, not this time. This was just a job. No more emotional slip-ups. 

“Damn it, I’m a writer,” you muttered under your breath. “This is just research. He’s just a random guy.”

With renewed determination, you opened your laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard as you drafted the first section of your article. Reliving the details of your first date, you kept it light and short because this wasn’t about how the first date went great, it’ll be about everything that happens now. You had your plan ready for action.

You were finally hitting a flow, words forming exactly as you wanted, when you heard footsteps stop just outside your cubicle. 

“Special delivery!” Ann, one of the front-desk clerks, appeared with a bright smile, holding a small bouquet. "Someone’s got an admirer!"

She set down a small bouquet of sunflowers. The choice of flower surprised you most of all, you loved sunflowers. They were tied together with a with a purple ribbon and card attached to the end. Opening it, “A little bit of sun for a rainy first date. Thank you for listening to my fish facts. JK.” 

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” Ann cooed, lingering a moment to admire the flowers. She shot you a grin before heading back to the front, and you tried to keep your reaction composed.

You couldn't help but feel that small spark of joy, despite yourself, as you read the card. The sunflowers, your favorite, were unexpected and so charming. Tied with a cute ribbon that added a touch of thoughtfulness. You’d never been given flowers by anyone other than your parents and that one college boyfriend. Yet here they were, sent to your office, just for you.

If this had been any other situation, you’d probably be blushing and grinning like an idiot, falling head over heels way too fast. But the reminder of what you knew—what he was likely doing, the kind of guy he really was—kept you grounded. 

As you stared at the bouquet, lost in thought, the telltale squeak of a chair wheeling over caught your attention.

“Wow someone’s special.” Ronnie rolled right next to you. “Are those from who I think they are from?” 

 "Looks like it," You replied casually, flashing her the card. "Just… a little thank you gift."

Ronnie waggled her eyebrows. "Oh, just a thank you gift? The guy sent you your favorite flowers, after only one date. You sure you aren’t already planning your future house decor with him?"

Rolling your eyes, you turned back to your laptop, brushing off the teasing. "Maybe," But the flicker of disappointment crept back in. "If he hadn't got that text on our date. Then maybe this would be a sweet gesture. There's no way I'm getting attached to someone who’s probably chatting up another girl at the same time."

Ronnie gave you a skeptical look. "You still haven’t told me what it said, just that you went from mildly hopeful to permanently sour about him. Especially after you begged me and Jin to let you pick another guy before the date even ended."

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. "It was… friendly, if you know what I mean."

“Oh, friendly friendly?” she echoed, her voice heavy with implication. She winced sympathetically. "I’m sorry."

You shook your head, swiveling to face her. "No, no. We’re not doing the whole pity party thing. No look at Y/N she got fooled by another asshole again. This is work.  I knew what I was signing up for with this guy, and it’s why I chose him. I can handle it."

Ronnie raised her brows. "Yeah, sure. You sound totally fine."

“I am fine,” you insisted, forcing a smile. “It’s all part of the assignment, right? A totally detached, unbiased observation. Think of me as an objective researcher.”

“Okay Dr. Detachment. How are you going to respond to these?” Ronnie glanced down to the flowers and then back up to you. 

You opened your mouth to answer but paused, glancing at the flowers. You already knew what you wanted to do, but still… you weren’t quite sure how to play it yet. 

Meanwhile, across town, Jungkook was still buzzing from his own bold move. He and Hoseok were walking down the street on their lunch break, and Hoseok eyed him suspiciously. Jungkook filled him on the details with a little too much spring in his step, never the way Hoseok had ever seen Jungkook act after a date. 

“So… the date went that well, huh?” Hoseok finally asked, giving Jungkook a smirk. “You’re practically skipping.”

“Hey, I am not,” Jungkook grumbled, trying to keep his voice casual as he filled Hoseok in on the date. It had gone smoother than he’d expected, and he couldn’t ignore that spark of excitement. 

Jungkook had done a little social media stalking when he spent the day with his parents yesterday. You used a sunflower in your bio and in a lot of your posts, so he took a guess that they may have been your favorite flower. It did take him a little tracking down though, since sunflowers were going out of season. 

Hoseok grinned, giving Jungkook an approving nod. “So… flowers and a corny note? You’re going for gold.”

“Exactly,” Jungkook replied, a proud glint in his eyes. “I’m hoping she liked it. She’s into romantic movies and such so I thought it would be a good gesture.” Plus it was a perfect opening note since sending flowers is another classic romantic movie troup. “She should have gotten them by now.” He checked his phone yet again, his screen still frustratingly blank.

Hoseok raised an eyebrow to him, “Does it bother you that she’s not immediately giving you all of her attention.” 

Jungkook snorted, “No.” He paused but the silence between them hung a little too long for Hoseok to be convinced, “Okay maybe a little.” 

Hoseok let out a laugh, shaking his head with an amused grin. "Wow. Didn’t know you were secretly a heartthrob under all that cool indifference. Who are you, and what did you do with Jungkook?"

“Shut up,” Jungkook muttered, fighting a smile as he looked away. “I’m just… giving this a real shot.”

“And you’re stressing out over whether she liked your flowers or not,” Hoseok added, raising an eyebrow. “Must be a real first for you.”

Jungkook shrugged, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I just thought I’d make an effort, alright? ” He glanced at his phone again, his thumb hovering over the screen before he stuffed it back into his pocket.

“Why do I feel like the grand romantic gesture wasn’t entirely about the bet?” Hoseok chuckled, giving him a playful nudge.

“It’s not because I’m actually dating her remember?” Jungkook replied, a little too quickly, then caught himself. 

“You know,” Hoseok said, tilting his head, “there’s no law that says you can’t text her first, right? Might even make you seem… interested.”

Jungkook scoffed, his gaze glued to the sidewalk. “I don’t want to look desperate.”

“Dude, come on. Desperate is sending $50 sunflowers in November,” Hoseok replied, laughing as Jungkook scowled.

Jungkook sighed, but a faint smile tugged at his lips. “I just really enjoyed spending time with her. It’s different.”

“So shoot her a text, lover boy,” Hoseok urged, hit Jungkook lightly on the back of the head. “All the smooth moves in the world won’t matter if she doesn’t know you’re into her.”

Jungkook’s phone buzzed just as Hoseok delivered his advice, catching him off guard. He glanced down and saw your name on the screen. His eyes lit up, and a grin broke across his face—so wide and boyish that it almost unnerved Hoseok.

“Speak of the devil,” Jungkook muttered, barely containing his excitement.

“Well answer it.” He shoves his shoulder.

 Jungkook fumbles with his phone and steps off to the side to answer, “You’ve reached Sunflowers on the Go. How may I be of service?” 

You humm on the other end of the line in amusement, “So it’s the strangest thing. I got this delivery of sunflowers here on my desk but I don’t remember placing an order.” 

“Hmm, strange indeed,” Jungkook replied, grinning. “Turns out we only deliver to Composure magazine. No one else.”

What Jungkook wasn't aware of is you had him on speaker phone so Ronnie was also able to hear him. She brought her hand to her face at his cheesy responses. You also shook your head at absurdity. 

“Oh, is that so?” you teased. “Well, there was a little card attached… signed by someone named ‘JK.’”

“Yep, that’s the guy. Don’t know him personally, but he seems pretty cool,” Jungkook said, leaning into the joke. Looking over at Hoseok who was drawing hearts in the air around Jungkook, Jungkook just rolled his eyes.

“Hmmm, I don’t know anyone named ‘JK’. Guess I’ll just have to throw these away then.” You play with the ribbon in your fingers.

“Whoa, whoa, hey! That’s mean!” He protested, laughing. You laughed as well at his protest.

“Okay but seriously how did you know these were my favorite?” You touch one of the petals, sunflowers were definitely out of season so he had to go to some work to find really fresh ones. “Or was it just a lucky guess?”

“I may or may not have noticed a pattern on your socials.” His tone was sheepish and you just shook your head.

“Ah, so you were stalking me.” You nod, you notice Ronnie roll on over back to her desk. Coming back with her phone in hand. She was typing frantically.

“Maybe a little bit.” Jungkook let a beat pass, “I guess more importantly do you like them?” 

“They are very beautiful. Especially for this time of year.” You sigh, the gesture really was sweet. Might be fast for Jungkook to send flowers this early on but still sweet.

Jungkook let out a sigh he han’t realized he had even been holding in, “I do have to confess something. I was hoping this would make an opening for me to invite you to dinner.” He shifted from side to side, “Well I would be making dinner.”

“Inviting me over? Wow, bold move. So soon.” You smile, Ronnie giving you a knowing look and you brushing her off. “Would I have to do anything?”

“I will take care of it all, I need to or ove I can make a mean carbonara,” Hoseok gave Jungkook a look like he had no idea he had any cooking skill. “How about tonight?”

“I have plans tonight.” Which wasn’t a lie, you were going to work on some writing tonight. “How about Thursday?” 

“Perfect. You’re gonna be impressed, I already know it.” Jungkook chewed on his bottom lip. 

“I’m sure I will.” 

With some goodbyes you both hung up the phone. You could suddenly feel your heart racing in your chest and you mentally scolded yourself. You needed to remember none of this was long term. Which Ronnie was taking the lead in reminding you about.

“For someone who claims to be totally normal about all of this, you sure are smitten.” She crossed her arms and eyebrow raised observing you, “He totally knew these would work on you.” 

“I am totally normal about all of this. This is perfect, we are going on a second date and I get to start implementing my plan. Everything is on track.” You say but ash is looking back to her phone, “What are you looking at?”

“I’m trying to find his instagram.” She continued typing, not looking back up to you. 

“Oh he doesn’t have one.” You remembered from dinner on Sunday. It wasn’t abnormal for someone to not have one but Ronnie was surprised. 

“Boo, how am I supposed to dig up dirt on him?” Ash slumped down into her chair. You had actually done a little digging of your own the evening before though. 

“Pretty sure that’s my job and I already did. He has twitter but he doesn’t post often. He keeps a pretty low presence online so I wasn’t able to learn much that way.” You sigh, it was actually a little refreshing although it did leave you guessing. Makes it tough to be intrusive in the next steps of your plan. “By the way, can you cry on command?”

Ronnie raises an eyebrow at your request, “I don’t but I think we both know who might.” 

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Day 5

Thursday arrived, you and Jungkook spent the entire day texting back and forth just talking about whatever came to your minds. You found any excuse to ask him any random question. Send him random things you genuinely thought were funny. He also had something funny to say back or respond with. So you just let that be it, just texting and talking as much as possible. 

Jungkook had spent the night before doing a practice carbonara. Watching some guy on youtube walking him through the steps. It turned out pretty good but he knew he could make a better one tonight. He got really nice ingredients that hopefully would push it over the edge. He really wanted to make a good first impression with his cooking. He had no issue inviting you over so soon after knowing you, he felt really comfortable with you already. 

He hoped it wasn’t too forward, but you didn’t seem to mind. 

He had a bottle of mid tier white wine in his fridge and he also got a red because he wasn’t sure what you would prefer. He also wasn't sure what would pair better with a carbonara. Jungkook dressed his table up all nice, it was nothing special but a candle classes it up a little bit. Classic romantic things. It felt somewhat awkward and made him cringe but also no one else was around to see his effort but you, and you would appreciate it. 

Or at least he hoped you would. 

He then heard a knock from his front door. He thought it was a little early for you to be here but he didn’t mind, he still was making the food and he could pour you a glass while you waited. He trotted to his door, a wide grin on his face as he swung the door open with some gusto, only to have his features fall. 

“Channel?”Jungkook's face twisted into a confused but unamused expression, as she brushed past him into the apartment. “Please, come on in.” He said, his voice clearly sarcastic.

Channel looked like she was dressed for a night out and not for a very cold November evening at that. She had her hair curled and bouncy like it usually was, and the highest heel she could comfortably wear, clicking her way around Jungkook's apartment.

“I want my scarf back,” She had her arms crossed, strolling into the apartment with ease. She had been here enough times to know where everything was. “and since you won’t respond to my calls, here I am in person.”

“Okay, you couldn’t have texted me about this?” Jungkook let his front door close and followed after her through his apartment, as she tried to look under things and around furniture. 

She laughed bitterly, “Last I checked, you’ve been avoiding my texts as well.” She continued her hunt around his space. Jungkook getting a little peeved since he spent a good amount of time trying to make his space look good for your arrival. Your arrival which would be really soon and this was not a good look for a guy as you clocked as ‘unserious’.

"I kind of have a life, you know? I can’t answer every text you send.” Jungkook kept his eyes peeled for the scarf, more than ready for this encounter to end.

“Yeah, right.” Channel’s voice dripped with disbelief as she followed him further into the apartment, her arms crossed. “I could tell Hoseok was covering for you.” She paused mid-sentence, catching sight of the dining table set for two, a soft candle flickering in the center. Her expression turned suspicious. “And… what is that?”

Jungkook looked back to the table and then back to her, acting like it’s always looked like that. “Nothing, now where is that scarf?”

“Your place is so… spotless,” she murmured, her eyes scanning every corner of his living room, taking in the lit lamps, the neatly arranged coffee table, and the faint smell of food coming from the kitchen. “Setting a mood, are we?”

“I mean, I clean often. I’m not a slob,” he replied defensively, trying to wave off her assumptions, though he could see she was putting it all together, one detail at a time.

Channel sniffs the air for a moment and then stalks over to the kitchen, “You’re cooking? You don’t cook.”

“Whenever he hung out, cooking really wasn’t a part of the schedule.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, aware that he was pushing her buttons. “I cook all the time.” 

“Oh, I see,” She replied, her tone flat but her eyes flashing. She tilted her head, a cruel smile tugging at her lips. “So, who is she, then?” 

Jungkook sighed, not fighting her anymore, “no one, and she is coming over soon, let’s find your scarf so you can leave.” 

But Channel didn’t budge, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms tighter. 

“Oh no, no, no. You’re not brushing this off like that. Nice napkins, a candle? You set a damn table, Jungkook. What is this, some kind of date?” Her voice grew sharper with each word, anger and betrayal clear in her expression.

“That’s not really your business is it?” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck, he needed to get her out of here. 

Channel let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Not my business? You know what’s funny? All this time, I thought maybe we were building toward something real. And now, I see you’re doing that with someone else?” She scoffed, her face hardening. “What you just didn’t want this with me?”

Her words hung in the air, clear betrayal laced them. Him and Channel only had a sexual relationship, it’s what they agreed upon from the start. Sometime in there Channel developed some feelings for him and after a few months asked if they could take this more seriously. Jungkook wasn’t ready for that kind of step so they ended it all together. So now this all looks really bad. 

Except, he thought, it’s none of her business if he did change his mind. He never lied to her, and he was always very clear that he did not want a relationship. He really didn’t, and this thing with you, although a part of a bet, was something he was dipping his toes into. 

“Channel, that’s not it,” Jungkook said, sighing. “I never lied to you. I really didn’t want a relationship.” He hesitated, then finally admitted, “But I met someone, and…we’re trying things out and it’s brand new. So please leave.”

Channel’s face twisted in anger, her voice rising as she spat, “Oh, I get it.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, looking around his place with fresh resentment. “I bet you’ll dump her as soon as you’ve slept together a few more times. Because that’s what you do, Jungkook.”

He clenched his fists, frustrated but trying to stay calm. “You know, I’ve had enough of this,.” he said quietly, finally spotting the scarf stuffed into a seat cushion. He pulled it out, tossing it to her.

She caught it and threw it around her neck with a sneer. “So what is it about her, huh? What makes her so ‘special’ that suddenly you’re willing to commit?” She shot him a glare, stepping closer. “Maybe I should stick around and meet this one-of-a-kind woman. See what all the fuss is about.”

“No,” Jungkook said firmly, guiding her toward the door. “You’re leaving, now.”

She jerked away from his touch, folding her arms defiantly. “What? Is she coming soon?” Her eyes gleamed with spite. “You don’t want her to know what you’re really like?”

Jungkook let out a slow breath, gathering his patience. “No. I think she would be an adult and actually talk with me about it,” he replied, surprising himself with the honesty in his voice. “And whatever she finds out—that’s for me to tell her and her to decide. So, goodnight, Channel.”

She stared at him, anger simmering as she pulled open the door, glancing back with an icy glare. “Screw you, Jungkook.” With that, she stormed out, letting the door slam behind her.

At the same time she opened the door you were stepping out of the elevator and onto Jungkook’s floor. You spotted a girl storming down the hallway after yelling inside a doorway, as she passed you muttering a quick “Excuse me” without a second glance. You had an uneasy feeling about her, especially as she walked away from the very apartment number Jungkook had given you. You double-checked, confirming the number on your phone with the one she had just exited, and the sinking feeling intensified.

“Jesus Jungkook. At least have some class and spread out your dates so we don’t bump into each other in the hall.” You whisper under your breath, but you still had to go through with this as if you didn’t immediately feel a sense of dread. 

You took a steadying breath, willing yourself to ignore the uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. After all, you were here now, and nothing had technically happened to prove your suspicions. So you pushed them down, knocked on the door, and tried to keep your expression neutral, reminding yourself you were maybe a minute early—nothing too crazy.

The door opened after a brief pause, and Jungkook’s face shifted from guarded to bright relief when he saw you standing there. His lips curled into a wide, easy smile, like he was genuinely glad to see you. His hair was a little tousled, his shirt a snug, tucked into jeans that fit him perfectly, emphasizing his lean frame. He looked relaxed, casually put together, which was somehow infuriatingly charming.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice warm, stepping aside so you could enter. “Come on in.”

“Hi,” you replied, acting as if nothing felt off. 

You stepped past him, letting your eyes flick around the apartment, taking in the details—the tidy coffee table, a low hum of music playing through the room. He had a nice living room set up around a TV on the wall, the dining setup with an actual candle in the center. He’d put thought into this, that much was obvious. You couldn’t deny it was sweet, even if it left you slightly off-balance, considering what you’d walked past in the hallway moments ago.

“Okay now looking at it now, the candle maybe was a little cheesy.” Jungkook cringed at himself looking at the little set up. You shake your head and wave him off. 

“No, I think it's adorable. You even got a scentless one so it doesn’t cover the smell of the food.” You take a seat at the table, “I’m prepared to be wow’d like you promised me.” 

“I unfortunately got a little bit delayed so I am not quite done yet.” Jungkook was shuffling his way back into the kitchen, “But make yourself at home.”

“Okay.” You smile as he rounds his way back into his kitchen, he watches you get back up and walk around his living space. Almost like he was waiting for approval. Luckily Channel hadn’t trashed the place. 

You took note of all of the little things he chose to have on display, some books, a few polaroid cameras and some polaroid's on the walls, as well as a record collection that lined the side of the living room on some shelves. You thumbed through some of them to see what was available. Impressed with some of his picks, some similar to your own. His place wasn’t terribly big. Classic little bachelor pad. You had noticed he had chosen to keep what you could only assume was his bedroom door closed. 

It was something Jungkook thought way too hard about, if he left it open was it like saying he wanted to sleep with you tonight? Would it be way too forward? Or was closing it just as weird? Was closing it like telling you that he didn’t really want you in his space? He went back and forth and then opted to close it to maybe say he wasn’t expecting anything to happen, although he wouldn’t mind if it did. 

You on the other hand didn’t barely give it a thought other than noticing it. You picked up one of his polaroid cameras and brought it with you. You round your way back to his kitchen and stand off to the side watching him work. He was pretty zoned in on what he was doing, everything was really smelling great. You usually found it pretty hot if a guy could cook well. 

Jungkook took an opportunity to try some of his work and you took a photo right at the moment he took a bite, his eyes widened right at the moment he realized he'd been caught.

The picture came out and you set it down to develop. 

“I’m sure that will be super cute.” You laugh, setting down his camera as well. He laughs and you look over his shoulder to see how close he is to being done.

“Coming to inspect my work?” Jungkook glances to his side, seeing you peering over his shoulder to see what he was doing. He was almost done cooking. 

“Maybe.” You tease, “I’m a sucker for people who can cook. I’m just… okay at it.” 

“Well,” Jungkook stops what he is doing and reaches for a drawer next to him pulling out a fork and twirling some of the noodles onto it. Then holding the fork out to you. “I’m ready for your final score.”

You paused. Debating if you should eat the food off the fork or if you should take the fork. Would it send the wrong message if you ate off it? Or was that exactly what he was doing? The fork wasn’t very close to your mouth but not crazy far. You decided to just take the fork from him and take the bite. 

It ended up being really good carbonara. 

“Oh my god.” You smile chewing, “it’s really fucking good. Ten out of ten.” 

Jungkook did a small fist pump to himself, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth hiding a smile. “I’ll admit, I did a practice run yesterday and it was just okay but I’m glad this one is good.” Jungkook then taking a bite of it himself with another fork. Jungkook upon tasting his own food smacking his own forehead and leaning back. 

Causing you to laugh at his dramatic reaction. 

You glanced at the polaroid on the counter picking it up to see if it had developed yet, it wasn’t fully done but you could see mostly what the picture would look like. You showed it to Jungkook and he smiled, “Ten out of ten picture. Best one of me yet.” 

You looked at it and he did look like a deer caught in the headlights but it was funny, you set it down. 

“I’ll admit I’m wowed, to be fair I’ve only had carbonara like one other time.” You lean against one of his kitchen counters watching him as he plates the pasta for the two of you.

“I’ll still take the high praise. Now, should we do a white or a red wine?” 

“Hmm, a red works better with this I think.” You nod. 

Jungkook tells you where you can find his bottle opener and some glasses. You managed to get the cork screw into the cork but seem to be lacking the ability to actually pull the cork out of the bottle. Jungkook finds some amusement in watching your struggle but you persist. You’ve opened plenty of wine bottles in the past, this shouldn’t be difficult. 

“Having some trouble?” Jungkook watched you try and fail to pull the cork out a third time.

“Absolutely not. The cork and I are just having a disagreement.” You shake off your hand a few times and then get a better grip on the screw pulling upward as best you can. With some pathetic struggle, you really swear you can feel the cork moving. You let out a sigh as you let it go again. 

“May I?” 

“I swear I’m not that weak.” This honestly was just embarrassing at this point, so much so you have to face away from Jungkook at your next attempt. 

You make one final grip on the corkscrew and twist and tug, finally the corkscrew and cork pop free. Not before your hand comes straight, hard and fast, into your own face.

“Oh shit,” Jungkook’s face changes as he sees you basically punch your own face. “Are you okay?” 

You did dizzy yourself slightly but you set the bottle down. Feeling your face, hoping you hadn’t broken your nose although it certainly would be bruised or sore at least, “Okay maybe I should never open wine ever again.” 

Your nose than began to pulse with pain, this definitely wasn’t a part of your plan for sure. you covered it with one of your hands but Jungkook pulled it away. “Here let me look at it.”

“Please tell me it’s not bleeding.” You groan, and Jungkook places his hands on both of your cheeks looking at it. You match his face and he looks genuinely concerned. 

“Well, I’m not a doctor but you’re still pretty cute.” He then smiles and rubs one of his thumbs on your cheek. “That’s my professional assessment anyways.”

“Okay, but it still really hurts,” You say, letting your own hands rest on his wrists. 

“Hey, it’s probably just a bit sore—no blood, no bruise.” He gently tilts your head from side to side in a silly, exaggerated inspection that makes you giggle. 

It’s quiet between you both for a moment, Jungkook still holding your face. He just looks over your face for a moment, your nose was red but it was probably going to be okay. He had hurt his own nose a few times to know if it was broken. 

Jungkook’s hands still on your cheeks, eyes meeting as he studies your face. It’s easy to get lost in the warmth of his gaze and how close he is. A little too easy. For a second, you find yourself softening, tempted by the thought of leaning in and just letting yourself enjoy this. But then, just in time, you snap back to reality, realizing you can use this little mishap to your advantage. This damage to your nose might have actually opened up a window for what you had been working yourself up too.

You pull your face away from Jungkook and shake your head, breathing in a heavy breath. Jungkook looked a little confused but then after a moment you were crying. You were crying? 

“Hey,” he placed a hand on your shoulder, “I was just teasing you.” 

You wave your hands in a frantic show, your voice cracking just a little. “No, no, it’s not you. It’s just….” You let out a little sob. “I’m just so clumsy! And you made this beautiful dinner, and I’ve totally ruined it!”

Jungkook looks utterly bewildered now, glancing around as if the answer to your sudden breakdown might be hiding in his kitchen cabinets. “Really, I promise, you didn’t mess anything up. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He squeezes your shoulder reassuringly, almost nervously.

“Ugh, I can't believe this. I’m totally ruining the mood.” You wipe your tears away. 

It was a good little performance. One that was planned.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。• *₊

The evening before.

Day 04

“The art of crying on command.” Here you were again. Ronnie sitting next to you. Jin pacing back and forth with his notepad once again. Unfortunately for you, Jin was the person to have expertise on this subject being an acting teacher. 

“Okay I already regret this.” You try to stand up but Ronnie pulls you back down onto Jin’s couch. 

“This will help you!” Ronnie protested and leaned on you once you were settled back in. “This can be a part of your over dramatic persona you use.” 

“Exactly! It gives you another tool in the toolbox for the charade you signed up for!” Jin pointed at you with his pen and waving it around. 

“Fine, continue.” You wave for him to go on and Jin grins. 

“Thank you! Now, there are three main techniques for crying on command,” he begins, pacing dramatically. “Some people can just…do it. They snap their fingers and—bam! Tears.” He snaps his fingers for effect. “Others need to go to a sad memory. Something personal and emotional, something that really tugs at the heartstrings. And then, of course, some people have to resort to…ahem, creative methods. Pepper in the sinuses, maybe a little poke to the eye…”

“Let’s please avoid self-injury,” you interrupt dryly, giving him a look.

“Fair enough. Let’s start with the basics and see if you’re a natural,” Jin says, jotting a note on his pad. “Close your eyes, focus, and let’s see if you can will the tears into existence.”

You sit up straight, trying your best to summon tears on command, forcing your eyes to feel…sad? Your face contorts into what you hope is a tearful expression, but as you blink, nothing happens. Your eyes are as dry as ever.

“Nothing?” Jin sighs and makes a dramatic strike-through on his notepad, looking deeply disappointed.

“Yeah, sorry,” You mutter. “Nothing.”

“Okay,” Jin strikes something out on his notepad and you roll your eyes at his dramatics. “Cannot cry on command. So let’s try a memory, or is there a movie scene you can’t think about because it gets you teared up?” 

You sit and think, you have some sad memories from your childhood that you bring to the front of your mind. Reminiscing on them, although some things are sad or bittersweet, nothing tear jerking. 

“Dry.” Ronnie leans over and looks closely in your eyes, so much so you have to shove her face away from you. 

“Dry.” Jin repeats and writes on his notepad. 

“Maybe try going to the dark place?” Ronnie snaps and looks at you. “You always get really teary eyed when you think about dying alone.”

“Okay rude.” You sigh, it wasn’t untrue. Whenever you came back from dates that were unsuccessful or you wasted your time on someone who just wanted something casual you found yourself going to, what you and Ronnie have deemed, the dark place. “I don’t like thinking about that.” 

“It’s for science!” Ronnie cheers, throwing her arms up like it's supposed to make it more fun or something. 

You groan, sinking deeper into the couch.  “I don’t know if this is such a great idea, honestly. When I start spiraling about my love life, it’s not exactly…mild.” You look down, already feeling a little prick of sadness starting to stir.

Jin comes and squats in front of you, “Well then just go to the edge of it and don’t think about the whole picture. What about dying alone usually gets you crying?” 

You think for a second, and finally, the words come out quietly. “I guess… I cry when I start thinking that maybe I won’t ever find someone who’s…just right for me.”

Ronnie lets out a soft “aww” and nudges you gently.

You let yourself feel it for a moment—the uncertainty, the nagging doubt that, maybe, you’ll keep hitting dead ends. And with that, you feel a familiar, bittersweet ache starting to well up.

Jin nods approvingly, seeing a slight glimmer in your eyes. “Excellent,” he says, jotting down, potential crying trigger identified.

The vulnerability hangs in the air, and you let yourself lean into it a little. Lately, it felt harder and harder to keep going on dates, to believe that love might work out someday. You always seemed to be either too much or not enough—loving too deeply, too slowly, too intensely. It left you feeling drained, to the point where dating felt less like romance and more like a chore.

But with Jungkook, for once, you’d felt...hopeful. Like there was someone who genuinely wanted to share a moment, who put effort into making sure you had a good time. As unintentional as it was, you’d started to feel a little spark, considering the circumstances of your forced meeting. But as soon as you’d started to believe it, you reminded yourself it was all part of the act. You couldn’t let yourself actually believe it. You got your hopes up again, and they were ripped out from under you… again. 

So you had slowly felt as time went on, you were losing sight of finding the one. 

Then without even realizing it, you had a few stray tears fall from your eyes. 

“Boom!” Jin erupted and sprang to his feet, “We have tears!”

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。• *₊

You gripped onto that feeling you let it force a few more tears out of your eyes. Unfortunately you did not avoid the personal injury part of the tears. So this was going really well for you. 

You take a shaky breath, letting a few more tears roll down, making sure the sniffle that follows sounds especially pitiful. “Maybe I should just go home,” you say, voice wavering. “This along with my day… it’s all just been too much. You probably think I’m completely insane.”

You manage to start walking toward the door. Jungkook then panics for a moment, how did we go from laughing at you injuring your nose to crying and saying you’re going home? He felt like he had jumped three steps or something. You start toward the front door but Jungkook stepped around you, stopping you. 

“Wait what?” Jungkook looked confused, “How did we get here? I don’t want you to leave.”

You sniff even louder, adding just the right amount of snotty dramatics. “No, I should. You barely know me, and here I am—an emotional wreck in your kitchen. It’s… it’s too much.”

“And? You just hit yourself in the nose really hard. I would be a little embarrassed and want to leave too.” Jungkook places a hand on your arm, trying to comfort you. “Besides isn't the whole point of going on dates to get to know each other better?”

“I guess.” You wipe your face again, “I don’t know… I didn’t mean to just… fall apart like this.”

Jungkook sighs a little relieved, that could have spiraled further. “And just so you know, I don’t think you’re crazy at all.”

“Well it’s still early, haven’t had a chance to go full blown crazy yet.” Which gets a laugh out of both you and Jungkook. 

“Well I can deal with that I think.” He gives you a small, reassuring smile. “Besides, food is still good. Wine is still out and last I checked a bruised nose doesn’t stop you from eating.” 

“Wait, is it actually bruising?” You reflexively go up to touch it, definitely tender to the touch and jungkook chuckles a little. 

“I’m teasing. It’s only a little red.” He takes your hand pulls you back into his apartment, with a little reluctance from you. “Stay, at least for a little while. I’m not going to let you walk out of here feeling like this.”

You blink up at him, playing up a hint of uncertainty, but inside, you’re genuinely a little taken aback. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do.” He tilts his head to the side trying to meet your eyes, that had been darting everywhere else out of real embarrassment. ���Look, I don’t care if you cry, I’m the biggest cry baby I know!”

You manage a small, hesitant smile, as if he’s starting to get through to you. “I find that hard to believe.” 

Jungkook scoffs, feigning insult. “Oh, don’t underestimate me. Those ‘lost puppy finds his way home’ commercials? I’m done. I’m over here pretending there’s dust in my eyes.”

You laugh again, shaking your head. “Okay, maybe I believe you… just a little.”

“There we go!” He looks genuinely pleased, his expression softening as he sees you relax. “So, if I’m willing to admit my crybaby tendencies, it’s only fair you stick around for dinner, right?” He tucks his bottom lip into his mouth in anticipation of your answer. 

“Alright, I’ll stay.” You say it with an air of nonchalance, trying to mask the small spark of mischief hidden behind your agreement. It earns you a relieved, borderline triumphant smile from Jungkook.

“Phew! You’re sparing me from a whole night of wondering if my cooking scared you off for good.” He grins, his dramatic sigh punctuating his relief.

“Oh, please,” you say, rolling your eyes, feeling the perfect opening for a light jab. “If anything, the food is what convinced me to stay.”

Jungkook then serves dinner for the both of you. You both fall into easy conversation as you eat, he really did do a great job with the food. He was very considerate of making sure you needed anything else or pouring more wine when you wanted it. As well as making you laugh at almost every single turn. You really do get it why he got girls to go home with him so easily, between this and your first date the amount of confidence and charm that exudes from him is palpable in the air. 

Jungkook would never show it but his lack of practice with dating has actually made this date and your last the most nervous he as been in a while. Jungkook’s mind is racing, carefully cataloging every response you make, every laugh, every nod. He wants—needs—this to go well, not just because he’d prefer to win $300 rather than lose it, but because, in his gut, he actually likes seeing you here, across from him. He catches himself wondering if he’s oversharing when he starts a story, or if he’s going on too long when he recounts his last trip. When you laugh at one of his stupid jokes, he relaxes a bit, but he still can’t quite shake that uncertainty. 

You decided no more theatrics for the evening and let this play out naturally, how you would play out any other evening. Anything else would tip him off that maybe you were doing this on purpose. 

After a while the two of you had moved into the living room, you had been flipping through his records again, you didn’t take a chance to look at them all earlier. He had a decent collection for sure so you got a good sense of the type of music he liked. You both had a few glasses of wine now and so the conversation had turned more and more flirtatious. 

Noting the variety of music—jazz, a little classic rock, some alternative stuff. “You’ve got a good taste,” you say, glancing back at him. “This one,” you pull a record out with a slight smirk, “definitely says something about you.”

“Oh yeah?” He grins, leaning on the side of his couch as he watches you move around his shelves. “And what exactly does it say?”

You tilt your head, pretending to give it serious thought. “That you’re trying really hard to be cool. Just edgy enough.”

He laughs, though you notice he flushes slightly, brushing off your joke with a casual shrug. “Hey, everyone needs a little mystery. Or at least…a halfway-decent record collection.”

“Is that what you’re hiding?” you tease. “A mysterious vinyl collection? Or is it just your immense amount of fish facts?”

“Well, you’ll have to stick around to find out.” The words slip out before he can stop them, and he immediately kicks himself. It feels too... eager, a bit too close to something genuine. But he manages to recover, putting on a self-assured smile. “Not everyone gets to see my hidden jazz albums.”

You laugh, setting the record back and looking at him with a raised brow. “Guess I’ll have to consider myself lucky, then.” Finding a spot back on the couch with him. 

Jungkook shifted in his spot so his body was completely facing you now. With the alcohol having set in, his eyes were a little droopy and he was smiling but he looked boyish. He found the more he was learning about you the more he felt fine with telling you things about himself. 

“You look tired.” You poke his forehead. “Maybe I really should go.” 

“It’s barely even late.” Jungkook takes your hand, lacing your fingers with his. “I’m not tired at all.” 

“Your eyes tell a different story.” You laugh, leaning your head against the back of his couch. 

“Well what else are they saying?” He smirks, finding any reason to get a compliment from you. 

You stare at them for a minute, you were trying to come up with something clever. “Well if I am translating this right… I can’t handle my wine.”

You laugh and Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Wow how did you know?” 

“I have a thing for reading people.” You shrug. “What do mine say?”

He leans in really close looking between them. “Wow this guy is so hot and charming I really want to kiss him again,” Jungkook then gasps dramatically leaning away. “That’s scandalous, Y/N.”

“Shut up.” You laugh and get up from the couch trying to leave, Jungkook's hand pulling you back to standing in front of him. “You’re really full of yourself.”

“I’d like to think just a healthy amount.” He grins, Jungkook then places one of his hands on the back of your thigh. The warmth of his hand sends a shiver up your spine, but you do your best to keep your cool, not letting him see just how much his touch is affecting you.

You scoff with a half smile, “We’ll see about that.” 

Jungkooks grin widens sitting forward on his couch, both of his hands finding their way to your hips. Tracing small circles with his thumbs, making it impossible for you to think. The way he looks at you—intense, unflinching, like he’s trying to figure you out—has you second-guessing your plans  all over again, just for a second. This is what makes this hard, because the way he looks at you makes you believe every single word.

Many guys before have looked at you like this and you always fall for it, you always let yourself go for it. 

It’s a little difficult to remember that right now though, your mind clouded by the wine. 

You glance down to his lap for a moment then back up to his eyes that haven’t left yours. “Can I?” 

Jungkook just nods, allowing you to take your place on his lap. Lifting your legs to either side of his hips. Jungkook really was not intending for this night to go this way but he wasn’t complaining if it had. He found you incredibly hot and would do whatever you wanted. His hands stayed planted on your hips as you found what felt comfortable. 

“You’re pretty.” He smiles boyishly, he really did find you gorgeous and would tell you again and again if it wouldn’t be weird. The compliment makes you blush and hum. 

“You’re pretty too.” You lace your arms around his neck. Both of your faces coming so close together now. Breathes intermingling for a moment, asking the same question. “You were right though.” 

“About what?”

“I do want to kiss you again.” You catch the slight hitch in Jungkook's breath at your words, the way his fingers tighten on your hips, grounding you even as your heart races. His eyes flicker from your mouth to your eyes, searching your face as though he’s almost afraid this moment might slip away.

“I’m not one to protest.” Jungkook swallows for a moment, before you took no time to close the distance between you. Pressing your lips against his soft but certain. Jungkook immediately responds tilting his head to deepen it. One of Jungkook's hands sliding up your back to bring you closer to him. The moment makes you forget everything else, as you slide your tongue into his mouth. 

For a moment, you allow yourself to sink into it, into the surprising tenderness of his touch, the quiet intensity of his kiss. You move your hands to cup his face, relishing in how warm you are now. You felt your whole entire body heat up, and small wetness in between your legs. Oh this was not good, you cannot sleep with him this soon. 

Oh he probably knew exactly what he was doing though.

He would know exactly where to touch you and exactly how to make you moan and you had very little issues with wanting to let him do that. It would be so worth it, it would be so good. Except it cannot go past this, for your sanity at least. You needed to cut this off somehow, expect you kind of lead the night here. His tongue in your mouth was making it incredibly difficult to be logical. You could feel him probably already getting a semi and you really could not stop thinking about grinding on him. 

You needed to stop though. Because this is a great opportunity to drive in that wedge between the two of you. One more way to mess this situation ship up, but not ruin it completely.

As you pull away from him, leaving his lap, you mutter, “Okay… Goodnight.” You force yourself to stand, feigning nonchalance as you gather your things, even though every cell in your body is screaming at you to turn back around. Jungkook is left blinking at you, visibly caught off guard, his hands awkwardly suspended in the air where your hips just were. He clears his throat, collecting himself as he scrambles to follow you.

Clearing his throat. “Hey… um woah… was that not good or whatever?” 

You pick up some of your stuff into you arm, “It was it was good. It was great.” 

Oh god it was great, he was a really good kisser and your whole body was screaming at you to go back but you fought through. 

Jungkook was confused by your answer and shook his head, as he continued to follow you, “Did… did I misread something? Because I was getting a vibe.”

You glance over your shoulder and manage to flash a casual smile. “No, you didn’t misread anything. I just… don’t usually sleep with someone on the second date. Kind of a rule.” You bite your lip, keeping the truth of it hidden.

“Oh.” Jungkook nods, a look of relief mixed with mild confusion crossing his face as he adjusts his shirt. “Right, totally. Cool cool cool. That’s more than okay and Makes sense, makes sense… you should have said something.”

“It’s a bit of a mood killer to say ‘hey, by the way, you’re not getting any,’ don’t you think?” You raise an eyebrow, suppressing a grin.

You gather your things, amused by his honesty, and start toward the door. Jungkook trails behind you, letting out a small puff of air as he stares at the floor. Then, after a beat, he glances up with a sly grin. “So… just out of curiosity, not trying to be weird or anything, but what date number are we talking here? Fourth, fifth…?”

You can’t help but laugh at his question, knowing full well he has no idea you’re just messing with him. “Higher.”

He frowns, looking genuinely curious now. “Sixth?”

“Nope.”

“Seventh?” He leans in closer, eyes narrowed like he’s reading the answer off your face.

“Higher.”

“Okay, when do you usually?” 

You cross your arms, “Twelfth.” 

Jungkook’s face barely changes, but you can see his jaw tighten just a little as he processes this. “Twelve… dates,” he repeats slowly, nodding as if he’s mentally mapping it out. “I mean, sure. That’s totally reasonable. Not a problem.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised at his lack of pushback.

Yeah.” He shrugs, putting on a confident smile. “Guess I just have to plan ten more killer dates.”

“Uh huh. I’ll believe it when I see them.” Jungkook then opens the front door for you. 

“You're going to keep me on my toes aren’t you?” He watches you slowly step out the door with a wide grin on your face. He finds it cute and playful, he could tell you liked the chase. 

“Goodnight Jungkook.” You say in a sing song voice, giving him a flirtatious wave as you walk up the hallway to his elevator. 

Before you could get too far Jungkook decided to leave with just one last thing. Trotting up the hallway so he could catch you, taking your wrist and stopping you. “One last thing.” 

Jungkook places a hand on your cheek and then kisses you. It surprises you but you welcome him, its one of those kisses that is so passionate and it makes your knees want to buckle out from under you in response. He uses just a little bit of  tongue to send a shiver through your whole body, his hand warm against your cheek as he continues to kiss you just long enough to make you lose track of the hallway, the elevator, and everything else. 

When he finally pulls back, his eyes are twinkling with that trademark cockiness, but there’s something softer underneath, something that makes your heart do an unwelcome little flip. He grins, his hand lingering on your cheek for just a moment longer before letting go. “Goodnight.”

He goes back into his apartment as you retreat to the elevator. As you ride down, you let out a shaky breath, trying to process what just happened, and trying even harder to remind yourself why you’re supposed to be making him miserable. But as your lips still tingle from his kiss, you’re the one who is being thrown off balance now. This was continuing to prove to be difficult.

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Day 6

Jungkook is floating on air as he gets through his next work day. So much so Hoseok has taken notice of Jungkook's change in attitude. Really his whole attitude had been different all week. Not that he was particularly grumpy before or even usually in a bad mood, but he was in a good mood. 

It was Friday night, and the familiar hum of the weekend buzzed in the air as Jimin and Taehyung once again convinced Jungkook and Hoseok to come out for a night of fun. Jungkook had been hesitant, his thoughts lingering on you. He’d been so busy lately, and while the dates had been great, there was something about tonight that made him want to see what plans you had before fully committing to the night out. But eventually, he decided he should just go—time with his friends, after all, was good too. Plus, there was that whole bet to think about, and he had a chance to subtly show Jimin and Taehyung how smoothly things were going with you.

When Jungkook and Hoseok arrived at the booth, they were greeted with their usual boisterous energy. Taehyung raised his glass, grinning widely. “Look who it is!” he said, motioning to the empty seats. As they sat down, the drinks flowed easily, and the conversation began to buzz.

However, Jimin and Taehyung had something else on their minds—Jungkook’s unusually good mood. While their conversation about random topics picked up, they were both trying to pinpoint exactly what had changed in him.

“So,” Jimin leaned forward, his voice a bit more teasing than usual, “what’s going on with you tonight? You’ve been, like, way too chill. It’s freaking me out.”

Jungkook paused for a moment, a little taken aback by the sudden observation. “What do you mean?”

Jimin gestured at him with a mock-serious face, “You're usually the one trying to take the night to the next level. Trying to make things more interesting. Tonight, you're just sitting here, all calm, looking like you’re, I don’t know, at peace or something?”

Taehyung chuckled at the thought, leaning in with a grin. “Yeah, what happened to the Jungkook who was out here doing whatever it took to keep things fun and exciting? You usually make sure the whole night has a direction. Right now, you’re, like... engaged in our conversation about cyber-security. That’s... not you.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, trying to play it cool, but he could feel the pressure mounting. He knew his friends had caught on to something, but they didn’t know why he was acting different. “I’m just… having a good day,” he said, his voice light and casual. “Nothing wrong with that, right?”

Hoseok snorted next to him and Jungkook gave him a side eye. 

“You definitely would have gotten someone’s number by now but your eyes have been glued on us or on your phone this whole time.” Taehyung added on, which was usually true but Jungkook was glued to his phone. Hoping maybe he would see another text from you, secretly. Casually, in a totally normal way. 

“So what gives?” Jimin pokes Jungkook in the arm. 

“It’s nothing.” Jungkook shrugged and took a sip of his drink. 

Hoseok rolled his eyes, “It’s Y/N. The girl you set him up with for this stupid bet.” 

“Oh.” It all clicked into place for the both of them but it was still weird, “She totally see through your act yet?” 

Jungkook was caught off guard, the question cutting deeper than he expected. He shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “Actually,” he began, his voice softening, “no. We had a really nice date last night. There is nothing to see through, I’ve been completely genuine.”

“Oh, really?” Jimin raised a skeptical eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips.

Hoseok, who had been mostly observing, finally chimed in with a sigh. “He’s been in such a good mood about it all day, I’ve actually been avoiding him.”

Jungkook shot him a glare, nudging his arm. “So that’s why you were dodging me earlier?”

Hoseok shrugged, chuckling. “Sorry, man, I just couldn’t listen to you go on about Y/N again today.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, glancing back at Jimin and Taehyung. “You guys are acting like it’s such a big deal. It’s just… going well.”

Taehyung raised a skeptical brow, his tone a bit annoyed. “So, you’re hitting it off?”

Jungkook smirked, raising his glass. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

That earned a laugh from Jimin and Taehyung. “Yeah, right.” Jimin scoffed, shaking his head.

“All I’m saying,” Jungkook replied, his smirk widening, “is you two better get your wallets ready. In 24 days, you’re going to owe me big time.”

With a final grin, Jungkook set his glass down and excused himself, heading off to the bathroom. As soon as he was out of earshot, Jimin leaned closer to Hoseok, lowering his voice. “Okay, is it actually going well, or is he just messing with us?”

Hoseok took a sip of his drink, letting the suspense hang in the air for a moment before answering. “All I’ll say is… he sent flowers.”

Jimin’s jaw dropped, and Taehyung’s eyes widened. “Flowers?” They exchanged looks of disbelief, struggling to picture Jungkook—who hadn’t done more than text after a night out for years—sending flowers.

“What kind?” Taehyung asked, still dubious. “If they were just roses, it might’ve been for show.”

Hoseok gave an exasperated look. “Sunflowers. They’re her favorite.”

Jimin blinked in disbelief, his jaw still halfway dropped as he processed Hoseok's words. “Sunflowers?” he repeated, as if the specific flower choice made it even more surreal. “You’re telling me Jungkook not only sent flowers but remembered her favorite kind?”

Hoseok nodded, his expression one of mild amusement. “It’s like he’s on some kind of mission. Didn’t even blink when he mentioned it either—used it as his way to get the second date they had this week.”

Taehyung shook his head, laughing under his breath. “I don’t know who this new Jungkook is, but he’s full of surprises. Sunflowers? That’s not just impressive; that’s borderline romantic.”

“Borderline?” Jimin laughed, still trying to wrap his head around it. “He’s gone full-on romance novel, and for someone he’s been seeing for, what, a week? This has to be the longest he’s been interested in anyone, like, ever.”

Taehyung let out a low whistle, chewing on his lip as he processed the surprising information. “Damn. This is serious.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok said with a small smile, finding some pride in a changed Jungkook. “So he’s not wrong when he says you guys are going to owe him. He’s actually putting in the effort.”

Jimin and Taehyung exchanged a look, stunned but slightly impressed. Watching Jungkook send flowers, remember favorites, and put his best foot forward was new—and honestly? They both knew they might just end up eating their own words. Which made them think, was there a way for them to slow this down, make it come to a halt?

It wasn’t an insane amount of money for either of them to lose, but it was much more entertaining to see Jungkook lose. Was there something they could do to mess this up but in a non asshole way?

If they didn’t, Jungkook was going to win the bet, but it had already become much more a bet at this point for him.

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[miss-cincaide]

Off Your Plate 

Summary: Chuuya surprises you by handling the chores on your plate that make you tired, in the process making sure the ‘chore’ you crossed out a couple of days ago returned and settled right back at the top of the list. 

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Boyfriend! Chunya Nakahara Warnings! This fic contains:  18+ content, pressure sex and a hint at dub-con, pet names, fingering, cursing & emotional detachment.

Read at your own risk.  

Unlocking the front door with a finger, you carefully balanced yourself and the numerous grocery bags in your arms as you wiggled through the heavy, bulletproof door of your boyfriend's luxurious home. You were desperate not to drop or damage precious items for your soon-to-be dinner or else- You paused, a frown graced your lips. The normally silent apartment wasn’t as silent as when you left it: there was an unmistakable faint humm of running tap water and the cling-clang of dishes. 

Your stomach dropped to your feet; dread gnawed at your insides at the prospect of your usual peace disturbed and your comforting routine ruined. Instantly, your gaze sought out the clock- surely, you couldn’t have wasted away all afternoon.

12:36. 

The wave of panic increased: it was far too early for Chuuya to be home. Shouldn’t he be away on some Mafia errand or something about a new diamond mine? Or maybe he was out saving Dazai’s skin again? No, not that. Was it a clean-up job he said he’d be on and would return later than usual? The one where he said he’d be home by midnight?! 

"Oh-Hey babydoll, You're home?” Chuuya’s voice was surprised, then it morphed into a slightly scolding tone as he turned off the tap “ Why didn't you say anything?" 

“I.. didn’t think you were home?” You answered lamely and hoped he mistook your disappointment for surprise. 

His chuckle reassured you that he did, and you felt your shoulders slump in relief as you watched him slowly strut towards you. You noted that his jacket was off, his dress shirt pulled up to the elbows, and his gloves were missing. Unmistakable dishwater dampened his skin while reminiscent of bubbles slowly popped away on his gloveless digits. 

You plastered a smile as he took the grocery bags off your hands and leaned forward, pressing a loving kiss to your cheek. You felt the unmistakable tingle of his ability, the way the hairs raised on your body as if you expected him to levitate you into the air. To your relief (or disappointment?), he refrained. Instead, he moved behind you and helped you remove your jacket before he let you walk to the kitchen first. An unmistakable smirk on his face which made your stomach drop further to your feet

What did you do?

The short walk to the kitchen felt agonizingly long. To your astonishment, the dishes from the morning were done, dinner prepped, and counter wiped. The laundry baskets you abandoned in the living room were nowhere in sight, and the faint hum of the washing machine told you the laundry was well on the go.

As if it was the most natural thing in the world, the executive walked past you further into the kitchen and propped the fridge and freezer door open. 

“You’re home early? Was the mission too easy again?” You teased lightly, trying to hide your shock behind the usual banter. But what you really wanted to ask was: You did my chores? Why? 

“Ehh, I send some stuck-up assholes to deal with it instead”, Chuuya muttered, tone nonchalant as he made a motion for the levitated groceries to unpack themselves onto their rightful places while he busied himself with opening a bottle of red.

So he sent his subordinates to their death, no doubt. 

The notion weighed heavily on you, and you readily accepted the drink. Before Chuuya even managed to take his much more moderate sip, you had already downed half of the glass. You stopped yourself from downing the rest as you heard his chuckle. 

Chuuya was watching you with amusement in his blue orbs. 

He looked at you as though you were an exotic animal that never ceased to amaze him, his focus more on you than the glass he absentmindedly twirled between his bare fingers. You paused mid-sip, gaze locked onto his digits and how much smaller they looked without his usual leather gloves. 

Less brutal. 

How many times had you begged him not to wear those soiled gloves around you, not to touch you with the bloodied leather- and how many times did he ignore your request?  

So what changed?

“But we’re not here to talk about me, sweetheart.” 

You choked on the wine, and your attention instantly returned to those icy blues. “W-we aren’t?” You feigned ignorance. “Then what are we talking about?” 

Stop with the games, Chuuya; you’re not Dazai, no matter how much you try. 

“No, sweetheart. We’re talking about you.” Chuuya set the glass on the counter, moved over to you, and grasped your chin with his slightly damp, ice-cold hand. “When were you going to tell me the time the chores took? If I knew they took all day, I’d have…” Chuuya cut himself off with a quiet curse and dropped his head on your shoulder; a heavy sigh escaped his lips. “I’m sorry.” the words were short, curt, accompanied by ‘apologetic’ hot open mouth kisses on your skin. 

Oh.

“Chuu I’ve been out all morning; I’m icky” You shrugged the shoulder he leaned on in a motion ‘off’. The familiar ‘im tired, maybe later’ excuse played on the tip of your tongue. But Chuuya beat you to it. 

“I’ve run us a bath, bubbles and all.” He leaned back and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. The barely there sweetness of wine on his breath felt suffocating, almost as suffocating as the look in his eyes. “It’s ready, and I’ll help clean you up; you just lay back and relax, hmm?” 

Just lay back like a good girl and take it, you mean?  

“ I appreciate it, I-” Your voice was cut off as your body grew light; the faint red hue surrounded you and lifted you off the ground. You let out a yelp- the only sound you could manage against his gravity manipulation. Your heart hammered in your chest, and your mouth went dry as he took you to the bathroom. You muffled a scream as his hands practically ripped off your outerwear. Your underwear followed off you even quicker. 

Please Chuuya. Not right now.

You closed your eyes as you heard the unmistakable shift of his clothing. A moment later, he got into the bath first, then lowered you to sit between his legs, and his hands rested firmly on your tense shoulders. His ability faded, but not his fingers, which set onto a slow and sensual massage over your skin, your back, and neck, then moved to dance over your ribcage.

 “I want to make it up to you for all those chores,” Chuuya mumbled, his digits ghosting over your nipples, rolling the hardened buds between his thumb and forefinger. Then he took them in his palms, groping and ‘massaging’ your tits.” For being an ass and not seeing how goddamn many there were, sweets” One of his hands left your tits and shifted lower, skimmed over your stomach and settled on massaging your inner thigh.

 “ Can I show you how much I appreciate what you do, sweetheart-” he purred, trailing kisses from your hair, down the side of your face and to your ear.

-You could do that by getting your hands off - 

“- Also I’ve hired a maid” 

Your head snapped to look at him over your shoulder, mouth opened and closed like a fish as you stared at his self-satisfied grin. The confident kind that said he had it all figured out. “You.. hired a maid?” 

“Don’t look so surprised, babydoll” Chuuya kissed the corner of your lips. “This way, you’ll get time away from the chores and focus on us.” his hand slipped and began massaging your inner thigh. His intentions were so painfully clear, his words so painfully obvious; was it even a ‘choice’ at this point? 

You mean you hired a maid to handle the ‘boring’ chores, so that one chore could return to the top of your list? 

Yet, you bit back your anger and frustration, understood and accepted your position as ‘trapped’ and ‘powerless’ in the unbalanced power dynamic between you owing nothing and your boyfriend owning everything. Understood that the luxury around you- and ultimately your life- relied on one key thing. 

Be smart or you’ll end up like his ‘stuck up’ subordinates.

Reluctantly, you spread your legs for his eager hands and leaned back against his chest as he showered your skin and bites and kisses. Suppressed a shudder at the obscene purr of “I can’t wait to make you feel good puppy, to fill you right up to the brim” and faked a moan as his fingers pushed right in. 

Nakahara may have put ‘sex’ back onto your daily list of chores, and you’d be forced to follow through with it like a ‘good girlfriend.’

For now.

Author note: This fic is a loosely connected continuation to a List Of Chores- and was supposed to come out a lot sooner but life got in the way.. oh well..

For those who didn’t think this fic was dark enough, try viewing the entire situation from Chuuya’s perspective. I dare you. 

Main |Raven|Rules & Requests |Masterlist | Cred & Other 

All fics are unique works by © miss-cincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reworked/reposted/copied anywhere, please inform me!

[merbear25]

Hello! Glad to see requests are open! Seeing that may I get a small thing for Zoro, Law and Mihawk. I've been having the idea of a devil fruit user reader falling into the water and needing rescuing (I'm very aware Law is also a devil fruit user but that just gives extra angst does it not). Hurt/comfort of course

Hello! Thanks for sending this in. I decided to change it a little for Law's, but I hope you like it anyway 💜💜

Even with precautions set in place, the sea was where the unexpected could happen. Whether a storm, sea monster, or battle taking place, the threat of the water was something you could never escape. Luckily, those closest to you were always prepared to protect.

CW: SFW, gn!reader, can be read as platonic or romantic, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, headcanons/scenarios, reader is a devil fruit user

If you went overboard… (Zoro, Law, Mihawk)

Zoro: He’d always been protective over those closest to him, so you were no exception. Though never overbearing, he still kept an eye on you. During times of peril, he kept you in arm's length as often as he could. You were capable—strong in your own right. However, there were dangers that automatically made you far more vulnerable. 

That day’s waters were vicious. The waves cascading over the railings gave no sign of the storm letting up. One wrong step was all it took to send you hurtling overboard. A shriek that pierced even during the hurricane-like winds sent the other hearts onboard plummeting.

Their cries for you weren’t accompanied by Zoro’s, but his action traveled faster than their worried calls. Before your limp body had the chance to sink much lower than the surface, he was there, diving in after you.

He was never short of prepared. Even when taking one of many naps, being aware of his surroundings never faltered. 

A watchful eye on everything and everyone, his friends being the ones calling for actions guided by the heart.

He wasn’t one to hound others on things they were already aware of. The unexpected should be expected, and that meant there’d be times when you were made vulnerable and in need of help, just like all the others.

Law: The sea gave no pardons to anyone. Your devil fruit abilities came with a burden that at times felt more like a curse. The calm waters the Polar Tang was cutting through turned dark as the daytime sky transformed into night. With night came more blind spots because of the abyss inevitably closing in.

A sudden wack against the side sent some of the crew members to the floor. Books flew off the shelves and the alarm sounded through the metal rooms. Red lights that blinked in urgency left split seconds of total darkness in your room. Another slam caused you to trip and miss the door handle.

Water started spouting through the cracks, and with each attack against the submarine the cracks grew in size. Your cries for help were quickly silenced by the rising water. The cold ocean held you in a tight embrace against your bedroom floor, yet offering no comfort. An immediate drop outside your room jolted you awake.

It would come as second nature. No thought, just action. You were one of the few who he considered close to him.

Rescuing you, no matter how often, came with some lectures, though. Even if it wasn’t entirely your fault, he mostly did it as a way of expressing his fear of losing someone he cared about again.

Thorough check-ups after such shocks to the system were given, even if you protested saying you were just fine.

Mihawk: Holding the title of the greatest swordsman marked him and anyone close to him as a target. The bullseye seen by the world was drifting casually through the seas, catching the rays of that day’s sun. The rippling water from an approaching ship didn’t even cause him to open his eyes. He was still enjoying the warmth of the sun, but with the supposed enemy drawing nearer, he was left with no choice but to give them even a fraction of his attention.

The captain baited Mihawk, wanting to see the swordsman’s raw power for himself, even if that meant putting his crew’s lives in jeopardy. However, Mihawk wasn’t known for being temperamental, which many of these hecklers seemed to forget. A smooth swing of his sword and their ships sank to pits of the ocean floor.

When a shot was fired at you, the bullet was sliced in mid air. Though you hung around someone whose composure didn’t break, you flinched enough for the both of you. A motion back one step too far was all it took for you to lose your footing and slip into the shackles bound to you by the devil fruit. His challengers were swatted like the pests they were before he dove in after you.

Even his lectures were articulated like advice, which you accepted without protest.

He’d insist on giving you training to help you control these impulses, albeit natural, were life threatening in the wrong situations.

That being said, he obviously knew that once you were overboard, you required his full attention. He simply wanted to offer you assistance to prevent this from happening more frequently.

[milkteabinniechan]

♡Dear Lover - Hyunjin

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: fiancè Hyunjin x fem! reader

summary: Your parents have picked a husband for your sister and the two of them have been writing love letters back and forth for years before they meet on their wedding day. There is just one problem: you've been the one sending the letters to her future husband and now you're in love!

warnings: just fluff! some angst, drama, very soft hyunjin, lovesick reader

“Maybe start with why you were the one writing me the letters and not your sister?” Hyunjin’s nostrils flared as he spoke. But his tone wasn’t angry, just confused. You looked exactly how he pictured you from your letters. A softness about you that translated through your words.

“She asked me to. In the beginning, she didn’t want to write to you. So, she asked me to do it instead to make our parents happy.” You pulled at the hem of your shirt, twisting it this way and that while your eyes stayed fixed on the ground. “Please, don't be upset with her.”

Hyunjin stepped back for a moment. His eyes searched yours as the two of you finally locked onto one another. Eyes that he had pictured late at night. A face he had only seen in his dreams. Everything he had said in the letter was true. He was in love, just not with your sister. But the wedding was planned, the invitations sent out.

It was springtime when the letters first began. You remember the sound of birds chirping outside your bedroom window when your parents made the announcement that your sister was to be wed on the year of her 21st birthday.

“But I don’t want to marry someone I’ve never met!” She screamed. You were only partially paying attention. You were no longer the focus of your parents' attention. You were twenty-four now and practically a spinster. Your sister was going to have her wedding the very next spring. One year. She had one year to comply and accept what was happening.

“We’ve already failed with your older sister, we will not fail with you.” Your father boomed. His fat finger pointed sternly at you.

While your little sister protested for a few weeks, she ultimately agreed upon the marriage if she could at least see who she was to be betrothed to. But letters are all his family would agree to. A stern, traditional family that negotiated the terms of advised letters to be written once a week for one year until the wedding day. Meetings were held in secret by the patriarchs of the two families. Hands were shook and large cigars were smoked in celebration of the upcoming union. Then one cool spring night, your sister came knocking at your door with a favor to ask.

“You’re a writer. Just write the letters for me and make me sound good okay?” She begged, her hands folding together while her eyes pleaded with you.

Reluctantly you agreed. One week after the other, you tried your best to sound like your sister. You wrote about her interests instead of your own. You included her favorite color and her favorite kind of food. But somewhere down the line, you slipped. Hyunjin had written about a favorite book of yours – Little Women. He had written paragraphs discussing the different characters and the depth of their description and diversity from one another. He had gushed about the writing style and the eloquent use of simile and metaphors. And your heart fluttered, fluttered and flipped in a way that was new and exciting. Your next letter was completely you. It was your voice, your thoughts, your ideas. The words just flowed out of you like wine and you would feel almost drunk by the time you signed your sister’s name at the bottom.

Hyunjin would soon write about more personal subjects; his fears and insecurities. Of which you felt a kinship with. You would respond with words of comfort and love, thanking him for being so open and vulnerable with you. You would tell him about a beautiful sunset you saw or the lovely sound that snow made when you take a step early in the morning. Hyunjin would tell you how ready he was to hear that sound. How eager he was to hold you, to hear your laugh and touch your lips at last-

When everything was said and done, you knew the exact moment that things had gone too far. You had said “I love you” in your final letter before the wedding. Hyunjin had responded that he was on his way and that he “loved you more that there were stars in the sky.”

You held that last letter tightly in your hands as the all black town car pulled into the driveway of your family home. You would see him, finally see him, and he would see you. Only you would be a shadow cast behind your sister. Hyunjin could never know that those words were not hers. He would marry her and you would go back to your life before. As Hyunjin slowly stepped out of the car, the sunlight shone through his hair like a beacon. His forearm flexed as he gripped the car door and closed it behind him. He stood still for a moment, his eyes flicking between you and your sister until his gaze finally landed on you. Your sister hastily stepped in front of you and introduced herself. Hyunjin shook his head for a second to break the stare between the two of you before smiling warmly at your sister. He held her tightly, his long arms sweeping around her waist and pulling her close to his chest.

“I am so happy to meet you in person, my love!” He exclaimed, his hand coming up to cradle your sister’s face.

Dinner was a complete blur. The clanking sound of silverware and glasses swirled around your ears while your mind drifted further and further from the dining room. The voices of your family were distant, just an echo of a sound as you attempted to keep your food down. After dinner, Hyunjin and your sister snuck off somewhere in the house to be alone. You made your way up to your room and lied on your bed, willing your brain to erase the last year so the heaviness in your chest would subside.

“Fine! Okay? I didn’t write those stupid letters! But that doesn’t mean anything, right?” your sister shouted from the other side of the wall. You stayed in bed and made your way to the wall that divided your two rooms to see if you could hear anything. “She’s a loser! You don’t want her!” Your sister screamed.

“If she is the one that wrote all those letters, then I do. I do want her.”

Your heart dropped. You moved your head away from the wall and turned to face your bedroom door as you heard footsteps approach.

“Please, don’t be upset with her.”

“I’m not upset with her.” Hyunjin took a step closer, closing the gap between the two of you. “You look just as I imagined.” He whispered, his breath brushing softly against your neck.

Your breath hitched as he moved closer. Your hands move instinctively to his waist. Your hips coming into contact with his as his hands move down your back and come to rest at your sides. He leans into your ear and speaks in a low tone. A secret shared just between the two of you. Something intimate that nothing in this world could penetrate. “You’re the one I want to marry. You’re the bride I have been waiting for.”

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo @greyaia @chanchansgirly @skzleeknowcore @skz-smut-reader @thatisrankharry @hearts4yawnzzn @jchotch726 @cherricola-star @minh0scat

[thebiscuiteternal]

(many, many thanks to @nekoning for indulging my goofy idea)

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

"Stupid Qi-ge!"

For all its small squeakiness, Speaks With Lost Shadows' voice echoed around the massive chamber, even briefly drowning out the rippling of the pool that was one of its prominent features.

"If you had just said-!" he sobbed, tears making dark visible tracks as they matted his white fur to the dark skin underneath, "If you had just said-!" His attempts at getting the words out ended in a muffled howl as he buried his face into the collars of his former sect leader's robes.

Yue Qingyuan cradled the small cub that had once been Shen Jiu tight against his chest, his own heart swinging back and forth between sinking and hammering so fast that if he hadn't been a strong cultivator, it probably would have killed him already.

'Ah,' he thought. 'So this is what Lady Aurene meant.'

The goddess dragon had sent him a warning across their speaking bond just before sending her caretakers to escort him across the world between worlds to their home in Tyria.

-"You were honest with him once because you thought that was your last chance. If you are not honest with him now, then this will be."

"Is that-?"

"Not a threat," she clarified gently. "A fact. My hatch-mother and aunt are very adept at reading questions under questions, and they bring those concerns to me. He asks them frequently to check with me how you are doing; he speaks of you with regret. But I have seen many of the pathways that bringing you here could lead down, and all of the ones where you continue to hide the truth will end with him no longer asking those questions."-

A part of him had always been confused and hurt by the way that things had gone after Maiglu Ridge. Of course he had known that his past actions didn't deserve to be forgiven, but comparing the reactions of the spirit that had claimed his shidi's body to the reactions of his shidi's soul in this new one, he now understood-

What a mess.

Paws suddenly smacked against the sides of his face, squishing his cheeks between them and startling him out of the messy tangle of thoughts and emotions. Though they were decidedly bigger than those of a cat or dog, the pads and fur were thick enough that he was at no risk from the claws as he stared down into wide, determined black eyes.

"Qi-ge is very stupid," he agreed as he tilted his head to nuzzle soft fur, drawing a huff from the cub. "But he will do his best not to be anymore."

Shadows huffed again. "He better!" he snapped, then pulled back and blinked at him in realization. "Wait... Does that mean... does that mean you're staying here?"

"I spoke with my head disciple about the possibility. Even if it hadn't been this, I think he was aware that something would eventually keep me from ascending with the rest of the Qing generation, because he wasn't surprised at all. We've done all the advance work for him to take over my position if I don't return by the end of the month."

He gave a small chuckle. "Can't imagine my martial sisters and brothers will be happy about it, but considering..."

Considering they were happy to have you replaced.

Considering he still wears your face and your name like a festival costume.

"If your current family is amenable, then Qi-ge will never leave Xiao-Jiu behind again."

[mixtapedoh]

hi hi this isn’t a request, more of a “i do not have anyone else to scream about this with” BUT ANYWAYSS, idk if you listen to keshi but i was listening to Soft Spot on repeat and I cannot get woozi out of my mind send help. might have to start writing for svt at this rate. anyways back to studying for midterms i go, hope you’ve been well olive!

NOT A REQUEST BUT I CAN'T CONTAIN MYSELF BECAUSE FUCK YEAH YOU GET ITTTTTTTTTTTT.

also, hi jen <3 how are you <3 i have been habitually away from tumblr and that is my fault because i saw this like two weeks ago and was going to listen to the song you sent and then. simply did not. forgive me, forgive me, i am unworthy of such correct headcanons and vibechecks, but thank you for sharing them regardless.

ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀ ꜱᴏꜰᴛ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ .⭒˚.⋆˙⭒.✮

.⭒˚.⋆˙⭒.✮

"so i was just talking to hoshi—" you opened the door to your apartment and set down your keys, tugging off your shoes and already mid conversation, as had become your habit, after moving in with jihoon. you paused for a half second, just long enough to wrestle off your other shoe, and from somewhere deep in the apartment, you heard jihoon's wordless sound of interest. i'm listening. "—and he is somehow under the impression that we are going clubbing with him and the others this friday."

you walked into into the main room, your steps soft and meandering, where jihoon sat on the couch, his guitar next to him and a notebook resting on his lap. he had a pencil twirling in his fingers, and when you caught his eye and asked, "do you know anything about that?" he looked down and pretended to write something.

"yeah, i told him we'd both go." his voice did it's best to feign casual disinterest.

"you told him? you??" the surprise in your voice was giddy and sweet, bubbling like a can of coke just popped, carbonation fizzing.

jihoon still didn't meet your gaze. "you've been saying you need an excuse to wear that new outfit you bought a month ago... and we're spending that night together anyway. i knew you didn't have any scheduling conflicts." he was mumbling this last bit, and the erratic twirling of his pencil did little to hide his nervousness. "two birds, one stone."

you had the buoyancy to laugh, warm as the late afternoon sun coming in through the window. "woozi. you hate clubbing."

he had to look at you, this time. if only to see how your face would melt further into affection and tender admiration. not that he was somehow any better — all the attention made his complexion rosy, and for the life of him, he couldn't wipe off this stupid grin. "but i love you."

"ji!!" the whole of you spun into a whirlwind of motion as the lovesickness hit you square in the chest. you covered your face in embarrassment, and when jihoon laughed, it only brought you somehow closer, now standing above him, your legs brushing the front of the couch. "you can't say that! makes me blush... makes me all stupid in love."

he managed to capture your pinky with his. "it's a good look on you."

you swatted his chest with your free hand, and jihoon pulled you closer, sitting you on his thighs and kissing you deeply. you intertwined your fingers with his, and after breaking away, kiss both of his cheeks. twice. for all that jihoon loves to claim he doesn't understand romance and doesn't believe in all the mushy stuff, he certainly always tries to get it right with you.

you kiss his neck, and jihoon sighs your name contentedly. you smile against his skin before pulling away to ask, "are you really gonna give up our inuyasha rerun night for clubbing with hoshi?"

his face contorts into a playful grimace, and you can't help but laugh at the expression. "that's when loving you becomes the operating part of my promise."

.⭒˚.⋆˙⭒.✮

[yandereheathen]

The Cost of Protection [Yandere elf guard x Fem Reader] 18+ Chapter #2

Hoi! Hasn't it been forever? I got the bug again for this boy, and I think maybe Korm :> a little part #2, and I have #3 in the making for later this week! Thank you for all the asks. You are the people I wanted to make this for! approx 1,570 words Warnings: Non-con/kissing/ some violence, obsessive treatment, death threats. As always, I do not endorse relationships like this. It is just for fun! Please do not read in a rough state of mind.

A bitter chill clung to Barovia as you stepped out from your tavern, coin pouch clasped tightly in hand. Hope was scarce in these lands, but you held onto the thought of escaping Maverick’s grasp, even if it was just for a few hours of peace. The market streets were eerie in the early morning light, deserted but for a few drifting souls, hollow-eyed and battered by the bleakness of life under Strahd’s rule. You made your way to the stalls, intending to pick up a few supplies, something fresh and maybe something to brighten up the tavern. Your hand was already reaching for the vendor’s apples when you felt a rough tug at your waist, and before you could react, your coin pouch was gone. You spun around, catching sight of the thief’s shadow darting around a corner. “Stop! Come back here!” you yelled, but your voice barely echoed in the empty streets, swallowed by the mist and despair that never lifted in Barovia. Swallowing your pride, you made your way to the nearest guard post. Two Barovian guards lounged by the door, their eyes cold and bored as they watched your approach. You took a breath, trying to calm your nerves before speaking.

“Please, I need help,” you began, voice barely above a whisper, as though saying it louder would make the shame sting more. One guard sneered, his gaze sliding over you with disdain and dark interest. He stepped closer, grabbing the fabric of your shirt between his rough fingers and pulling you nearer, his breath hot against your cheek. “I can think of a way you might earn some help, sweetheart,” he murmured, his grin twisting with something sinister. Before you could protest, the second guard nudged him with a sigh. “Nah, she’s Maverick’s girl,” he muttered, giving you an appraising look. “He’ll be pissed if we touch her. Go crawl back to him if you want help so bad.” They shoved you off, sending you stumbling back a step as they laughed, their voices fading into the mist. Gritting your teeth, you stomped your foot in frustration. “Bastards,” you spat under your breath. Straightening your shirt, you tried to collect yourself, brushing off their words as you turned back toward your tavern. Back inside, you searched through your small collection of trinkets, fingers grazing over rings and pendants, hoping you’d stashed away enough to sell and make up for the lost coins. But just as you reached into the drawer, you felt a cold sensation on your thigh—the hilt of a sword lifting the edge of your skirt. “Hmm… black today,” a familiar, chilling voice purred from behind. “Trying to shut someone out?” You jumped, spinning around, pressing yourself against the wall as your heart hammered in your chest. There he was, Maverick, still in his guard uniform, looking every bit the devil with that smirk across his face. “I heard you had some trouble today, little bunny.” His voice was low, dripping with mock sympathy, as he set down a small pouch on the table beside you. Your pouch—the one that had been stolen. But now, it was splattered with minor, fresh stains of blood. “A gift,” he purred, drawing closer, his golden eyes gleaming with sadistic satisfaction. Before you could respond, his arms closed around you, trapping you in an iron embrace. You tried to twist away, hands pushing at his chest, but his grip was unyielding. “Please… let go,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your neck. “No,” he replied, voice heavy with a hunger that sent a shiver down your spine. His teeth sank into your shoulder, the sharp pain blossoming as you felt his teeth break the skin. You screamed, the sound filling the small room as blood seeped from the wound, trailing down your chest in warm rivulets. He groaned, his breath hitching with sick satisfaction as he licked the blood from your skin, his hold tightening, crushing you against him. You struggled, pushing, desperate to escape, but his grip grew firmer, his amusement rumbling against your skin. He pulled back, his face inches from yours, a twisted smile playing on his bloodstained lips. “Remember this, little bunny,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost affectionate. “You’re mine. No one else is allowed to touch you, help you, or save you. You belong to me.”

Maverick’s fingers grazed over your collarbone, the roughness of his touch stark against the soft skin he’d just marred. His gaze bore into yours, a wicked satisfaction glinting in those golden eyes, watching for every hint of your reaction. You held your breath, your pulse racing as he drew closer, his lips brushing your jawline, his voice a low whisper. “Do you understand, little bunny?” he murmured, his tone carrying an unsettling gentleness that only heightened your discomfort. You clenched your fists, refusing to give in to the sway of his words. Your body tensed as you pushed against him, struggling to twist out of his grasp. But he didn’t budge, his hand pressing against the small of your back, holding you in place with an ease that both frustrated and frightened you. “Stop fighting me,” he purred, his voice soft but commanding, his hand slipping from your back to trace the curve of your hip. You squirmed under his grip, a fierce glare on your face as you met his eyes. “Let go of me,” you hissed, anger masking the flickers of betrayal that your body was beginning to reveal. Heat rose to your skin as his touch lingered, his fingers pressing into you with a possessive intensity that sent unwanted shivers down your spine. You fought the reaction, the betrayal of your body, the way your skin seemed to tingle under his touch despite every protest in your mind. “Why must you resist?” he murmured, pressing his lips to the hollow of your throat, slow and deliberate, savoring every inch of hesitation and rebellion in your stance. His hands traced down, capturing your wrists, pinning them against the wall beside your head, his face mere inches from yours. “Don’t pretend you don’t feel it,” he whispered, his breath hot against your cheek. His grip tightened, pulling you closer until there was no space between you. Every inch of your body seemed to betray you, the warmth of his touch igniting sensations you’d instead have denied, your pulse quickening even as you struggled to pull away. He leaned in, his mouth ghosting over your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers along your skin. “You’re mine,” he said again, his voice soft but unyielding. His hand moved, tracing the lines of your body with a dark reverence, savoring the tension, the resistance, the way your breath caught with every touch. You fought the sensations, the rebellion in your mind conflicting with the stir of warmth spreading through you, your body’s involuntary response only fueling the twisted satisfaction in his gaze. He leaned closer, his hands trailing down your sides, his touch both rough and reverent, as if claiming each part of you with a dark insistence. “See, even your body understands,” he murmured, his fingers pressing into you with deliberate slowness, his gaze never leaving yours. Despite every struggle and protest, you couldn’t deny how your pulse raced under his touch, the heat rising against your will. He grinned, having enough, and pushed you down, falling to your ass when he had you mesmerized. “Now. Show me how thankful you are, bunny, for me helping you.” the fabric on his pants was rough and slightly dirty from the mud as your cheek was rubbed with this clothed cock. He lets out a shivering moan. “so soft…but I want to feel something softer.”

You start shaking and crying as you feel his veins and skin sliding in and out of your mouth, young and then lips in a popping noise. He is not as gentle as when he first started clear. A need inside him was burning, screaming to get out, and your mouth would take the punishment of it. Every thrust of your head bounced painfully at the wall, you let out a cry, and he gets rougher now, grabbing your hair and dragging you back and forth. The worst part is. Not that you can’t breathe. Not the pain in your head. But the warm, dizzy feeling in your head and the…warmth dripping on your legs. The room spun, fear blurring your vision as his words sank in, the weight of your captivity closing in, suffocating and inescapable as you felt his cum down your throat. "Mine"

[dreamlandreader]

Feyre's Grand Gesture

Pairing: Feyre/Rhysand Summery: After five years of marriage Feyre is becoming tired of Rhysand's constant grand gestures, and decides it is about time to give him taste of his own medicine. Content Warnings: N/A Author's Note: A fun little idea I came up with months and months ago that I finally got the inspiration to write! I’m actually super nervous to post this and keep going over and over it but I just want it out in the world so I am pressing post and hoping that you all enjoy it ❤️

Feyre Archeron looked out at the sea of powder pink peonies that covered the bottom floor of the River House and knew that she had reached her absolute limit. 

Rhysand was getting ridiculously out of hand. He’d always had a flare for the dramatic but his recent spate of grand gestures was driving her up the wall. In the coming days it was their fifth mating anniversary, and whilst Feyre would have been happy with a quiet weekend away at the cabin, Rhys had spent the last few weeks being exceptionally extravagant. 

First it had been the five new tiaras he had gifted her, the sparkling silver settings dripping with the finest of jewels. A week later, he had five hundred fireworks set off over Velaris, irritating his brothers who had to wait hours to fly home due to the lingering smoke. Now Feyre had come home, exhausted from the studio with her four year old son wriggling away in her arms, to find her husband standing in the centre of what very much looked like five thousand flowers. Enough was enough. It was about time Feyre played her mate at his own game. 

When Feyre had asked Rhys what he would like for his birthday the following month, his wish was simple: a day in bed with his beautiful mate, followed by his favourite meal with their friends and family. Unfortunately for him, Feyre had already chosen to ignore him completely. 

Three weeks later, Rhys was swaddled in the warmth of his bed, deep in slumber, when a shrill, piercing noise burst through the River House sending him cascading out of bed in a tangle of leathery wings and cotton bed sheets. Disorientated and highly confused, he sprung from the cold floor ready for a fight, only to be greeted with the smiling face of his wife, her eyes wide and a huge party blower between her lips. 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Feyre screamed at the top of her lungs, throwing herself into Rhys’s arms and peppering his flushed face with sloppy kisses. 

Once his heart had steadied its pace in his chest, Rhys scooped his mate onto the bed, a sly smile taking over his face as he began to trail gentle kisses down her neck. 

“Ah ah ah!” She stopped him, one hand on his chest and the other lifting his chin. 

“We have no time for that, Darling, there's far too much to do,” Feyre whispered, with a devious glint in her eye.

“But I thought we were spending the day in bed?” Rhys purred, the air thick with the scent of his arousal. 

“Don’t be silly, it’s your birthday! We have to celebrate,” she insisted, jumping off the bed and pulling her groaning husband behind her. 

Soft music floated through the house, as a very confused Rhysand and a smirking Feyre padded barefoot down the grand wooden staircase in their matching silk pyjamas. The music was a cacophony of violins, flutes and horns, the various instruments knitting together in beautiful harmony. The instrumental that played as the pair entered the dining room was as familiar to Rhysand as the heart and soul of the beauty beside him. 

It’s the song you played me under the mountain Feyre spoke gently into Rhys’s mind. He sent a wave of love down the bond in response, before he finally looked around the room. He had anticipated the presence of the inner circle, laughing and eating and sharing stories over breakfast. He did not expect however, the entire Velaris orchestra to be filling every nook and cranny of the ground floor of his home. 

Squeezing past legs and bows and instruments galore, Rhysand joined his wife at the head of the table and settled himself to eat breakfast with an audience. It was rather nice at first, the gentle strings providing a pleasant aura in the room, but then things began to get a bit more intense. Suddenly the music swelled and the close proximity of the performers caused him to wince. Rhysand would have loved to tell these people to politely get the fuck out of his house, but Feyre was beaming and he couldn’t let her know that this surprise was truly unwanted. So Rhys sat, and ate, and smiled. That was until he realised that the clashing symbols were directly seated behind his head and he ended up wearing his morning coffee. 

Once Rhysand’s ears had stopped ringing Feyre ushered the inner circle outside, and stopped them directly in the centre of the perfectly manicured front lawn. Next to her stood a dauntingly large object, mysteriously covered in a white sheet.

"Mor, Amren, will you do the honours?" Feyre asked excitedly. Cast in the shadow of the extraordinary gift, Amren and Mor revealed the surprise. Rhysand could do nothing but stare in shock at the 10 foot tall marble statue before him.

"Do you like it? I commissioned the greatest sculptor in Pythian to make a exact replica of you!"

"Feyre it's - I-" he stumbled, trying to think of any response that would not hurt her feelings.

"You love it! I just knew you would!" Feyre cheered, clapping with joy.

Rhysand chose to ignore the sarcastic jibes that came from the rest of the inner circle at Feyre's gift and prayed to the Mother that they'd one day let it go. He could hardly blame them, the thing was horrific, but he loved his wife more than his pride and so for her he sucked it up and took every joke thrown his way.

The morning continued in a chaos. After the reveal of the statue Feyre announced that she had replaced all of Rhysand’s vintage wine and bought him a full case of brand new bottles because "Who wants 400 year old wine!". 

As Rhys recovered from that shock, Feyre informed the room that she had written a poem (with the help of Cassian), dedicated to her mate. It was every bit as painful as he feared it might be. Rhys knew his wife was talented beyond belief, and he would always be her biggest supporter, but poetry was clearly not her forte.

As the morning slipped into afternoon the inner circle cleared out and Feyre suggested that they should take a family stroll through Velaris to get some ice cream. Rhys let out a sigh of relief. Finally, a relaxed afternoon with his mate and their precious son, just their little family on a gentle stroll through the city he loved with his entire being.

The walk was exactly what Rhysand needed. With Feyre's hand in his and Nyx's tiny giggles filling the air, he felt nothing but contentment. That was, until they reached their destination.

As they approached the cobbled alley the ice cream parlour sat upon, Feyre revealed that she needed to quickly pop into the dance studio next door to finalise some agreements on a painting she was making for the owner. Happy to make a minor detour Rhys followed his wife and son through a large oak panelled door, into the studio space.

"Why is it so dark in-"

"SUUUUURPRISE!"

The lights flashed on as a symphony of voices melded together and endless amounts of glitter dropped from the ceiling. He'd be finding that for weeks!

Rhysand should have known. Feyre never would have insisted they dress so nicely if her plan truly was a casual stroll for ice cream.

The studio had been decorated within an inch of its life. A disco ball dropped elegantly from the ceiling, shimmering lights cascading around the room in its wake. Balloons and streamers in Night Court colours were everywhere, and a large table sat in the centre of the room, with a ten tiered chocolate cake proudly dominating the space.

The room was filled with friends, but also a lot of people Rhys barely recognised, and every single one of them wanted to speak to the man of the hour.

An hour and a half later, after battling through a crowd of loose acquaintances, Rhys finally made it back to his wife. After a quick peck on the lips, Feyre swiftly directed his attention to a rather intoxicated Helion, who had not only stolen the mic from the lead singer of the band she had hired, but also began to serenade Rhys with a very passionate love song.

The afternoon bled into night and the dance floor began to thin. Nyx had tired himself out chasing balloons with his uncles, and had fallen asleep on his Aunt Nesta's lap. Scooping him into her arms, Feyre began to make the rounds informing everyone that the bar would be free until midnight, but that they had to go home to put their little one to bed. She did tell Rhys to stay out and enjoy himself for a while longer, but he jumped at the opportunity to return home to peace and quiet after hours of socialising.

Once they had settled Nyx snug into his bed and kissed him goodnight, Rhys and Feyre ventured back downstairs and sank into their plush sofa.

“So my love, have you had a nice day?” Feyre asked, glee swimming in her eyes.

“Yes Darling. It was … good,” Rhys replied, double checking his shields were in place, and that his mate couldn’t sense his lie.

“Good?” Feyre quizzed, cocking her head to one side and furrowing her brow.

“Yeah. Very nice!” he responded weakly, trying his very best to smile and not grimace.

“You didn't like it did you Rhys?” Feyre stated plainly.

“I did! You put in so much effort and it can’t have been easy getting everything organised on top of what you already do for us all on a daily basis, it was just maybe, perhaps, a little … much,” Rhys winced, desperately hoping that this revelation would not hurt the love of his life, but needing to get the truth off his chest.

“Oh, really?” Feyre probed. She didn’t look particularly upset about the confession, but Rhys felt he should still tread lightly.

“It’s just, I don’t need all of that stuff. The big party, the giant gifts. I just wanted to spend a day with you but instead I was surrounded by strangers and lavished with many, many surprises,”

“Oh, okay,” Feyre replied thoughtfully. “So in future it would be best to keep it simple? No more grand gestures?”

“Yeah, just us. All that other stuff, it doesn’t-” Rhys stopped himself abruptly as the penny suddenly dropped.

I don’t need all of this stuff Rhys. It doesn’t matter when I have you!

Feyre’s words echoed around the room. How many times had she told him that exact thing? And how many times had he ignored it?

“Oh,” Rhys smirked, seeing the day for the first time , for exactly what it was.

“This was payback,” he laughed, impressed with his mates plotting.

“Yeah, kind of,” Feyre smiled sheepishly.

“I did want you to have a nice day, I promise! I just got slightly carried away with the whole teaching you a lesson thing,”

Rhys pulled Feyre into him then, laughing and holding her close.

“Five years in and you still keep me on my toes. Never change Feyre Archeron,”

“I just wanted you to see that I don’t need fireworks when I’m married to pure starlight,”

Rhysand’s heart swelled. He had done many things throughout his life that he was ashamed of, that he regretted and wished that he could change, but whenever he had his beautiful mate in his arms, he felt like maybe he at least got some things right.

“I get it Feyre. I still don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop fully, but maybe a few thousand less flowers next time,”

“That sounds perfect,” Feyre whispered happily, snuggling further into the warmth of her husbands chest.

“As long as you promise to get rid of that horrific statue first thing in the morning!” Rhys adds, the huge marble effigy looming in his mind.

“It’s a deal,” Feyre said, bursting into a fit of giggles and pulling Rhys in for kiss.

Taglist: @paleidiot @lilah-asteria @babypeapoddd @mybestfriendmademe

Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from my taglist 💕

Lovely dividers by: @tsunami-of-tears

[mothiir]

Hcs about Marshal Ezra pleasepleaseplease

do they count as hcs if it is my character? anyway here are some fun facts, below the cut because the list got long because i love this man:

isaiah caused some awkwardness when he discovered that red hair was technically a mutation - his brief one-man crusade against the unfortunate ginger serfs only ended when marshal ezra shared a very rare pict of him in his youth, with gorgeous auburn hair. isaiah never thought to ask why ezra now had salt and pepper hair - thus meaning that ezra did not have to disclose that he used to dye his hair, because the ladies loved a redhead

speak of: yeah, you heard that. marshal ezra is too old for this sort of nonsense now, but he knows first hand that space marines are not sterile. he has five adult children. fourteen grandchildren. two great-grandchildren. none of them have been officially claimed as his offspring, but they have their suspicions, mainly because despite having five different mothers they all have the same hard jawline and steely grey eyes. his genes do not fuck about.

yes, five children with five mortal women. he was doing his duty and serving the emperor by taking care of the needs of the civilian populace. by attending to their widows. and one time with a woman who was already married to a planetary governor. that one did cause some problems, but that was a long time ago.

despite what you might think, the mothers of his children all get along very well. they may come from different backgrounds but they all share the same qualities — steely-spined, clever, devout-but-sensible. they have a book club and compare notes.

despite the fact that isaiah really really annoys him, he respects the boy tremendously — he sees a lot of potential in him. however, he thinks that reuben is a far better candidate for being marshal one day, since reuben has at least a passing knowledge of how humans work.

he firmly believes that the emperor has sent him on a holy journey. he does not see this belief as clashing with his frequent habit of having conveniently timed revelations from the emperor, depending on whatever he thinks is the best course of action of the time. the way he see it, if the emperor objected to him occasionally fabricating a vision, the emperor would strike him down where he stood. he considers his continued success as all the proof he needs of the emperor’s favour.

he really does not get along with the inquisition. inquisitors assigned to his crusade have a nasty habit of vanishing somewhere, or turning out to be heretics. he encourages the local inquisition to send their best and brightest though, and makes a big show of being eager to work alongside them. the more experienced ones are learning to be cautious of him, even if they can’t officially say why.

he is not a blank himself, but he’s fairly certain he carries a dormant version of the pariah gene, given his own unusual ability to withstand psyker attacks. that and the fact that five of the fourteen grandchildren have turned out to be nulls of one kind or another. two of them are sisters of silence, another two work in the administratum (enjoying the fact that most of their colleagues do not like coming near them, thus making them incredibly and unusually efficient), and the last is the attendant of a commissar. the last one is always welcomed at the family reunions, even if they do encourage him to stand by a window, since the smell is a little bit much. no one is entirely sure where the smell comes from. it just seems to manifest.

[weirdlookingsnakewithlegs]

Could we maybe get worried Starscream and Thundercracker?

Perhaps Skywarp is send out but can’t teleport because of some magnetic interference? Or he gets hurt and communication with him is lost?

And Megatron hopes real bad that it’s nothing because the two seekers that are with him freak him out in their frantic search

Lmao I could only think of TC and Starscream flipping their shit while Skywarp is just having fun

Go Fish

Words: 594

“Starscream and Thundercracker: Overreacting.” Soundwave’s voice gathers the attention of the audience, garnering a pair of rather intense glares. “Skywarp: Alive and safe.”

“As if I’m going to trust you.” Starscream snaps at the mech's face plate, denta clicking together as he raises his wings in challenge. Thundercracker stands behind him and while he doesn’t burst out it’s clear he is just as angry as Starscream.

“Megatron: Ordered Soundwave to keep track of Skywarp’s…” the mech pauses, seemingly suddenly at a loss for words. “Skywarp’s spark signature: unreadable.”

If Megatron thought things couldn’t get worse he was oh so sorely mistaken. The scream of absolute rage that Starscream lets out as his claws tear through one of their main computer systems makes his processor jitter. The red seeker’s wings are hiked up, over aggression seeping through every circuit he has.

There’s barely a fraction of a second before Starscream’s denta are suddenly sinking into the metal of Thundercracker’s forearm, the cobalt seeker, despite his own anger, doing his best to help his trine leader vent out his frustration. Megatron watches the interaction occur and he nearly misses the fact that Starscream is visibly straining himself not to take a chunk out of his trinemate. He shudders slightly at the thought of if it were to be his arm instead.

— — —

“So…. Do you guys know how to play cards?”

Prowl takes a moment to turn his helm to look at the seeker, examining his goofy expression through the bars of the cell.

Jazz stops his train of thought and Prowl is already annoyed just by seeing the other’s stupid grin. “Got a specific game in mind?”

— — —

“This is your fault! You sent him on that stupid mission!”

Megatron takes a step back in hopes that giving Starscream some space may help the seeker calm down but it only seems to enrage the seeker further as he takes a step forward in response. A claw taps against his chassis, purposely causing an indentation in his armor.

“I had no idea there would be interference.” Megatron says slowly, optics following Thundercracker’s hands as they gently settle on the other seeker’s shoulder plating.

“No idea…” Starscream grumbles, “How about I cut you open intake to exhaust pipe, then would you have a fragging idea?!”

Thundercracker just barely manages to keep Starscream from lunging at their leader. The red seeker eventually shakes him off however but luckily he only storms off with Thundercracker hot on his trail.

The Decepticon leader lets go of an exvent he didn’t know he was holding.

— — —

“Any fives?” Skywarp chirps softly.

Jazz hums slightly, looking through his deck. “Go fish.”

“This is ridiculous.” Prowl grumbles, digits gently massaging his optics.

— — —

“How long has it been?”

“Estimate: four joors since Skywarp’s comms cut off.”

Megatron groans slightly, burying his helm in his servos. He can feel the seekers behind him glaring, sensing the optics trained on the back of his helm. It’s surprisingly unsettling, unnerving with the way they stare him down the same way they do a scraplet. The Decepticon leader doesn’t ever remember being seen as prey before and it is not a pleasant feeling.

Slowly he lifts his attention to them, “Fine… you can go look for him.”

He would’ve found the way they scramble over each other amusing at any other time.

“Soundwave, let’s keep these three together from now on…”

The mech next to him cocks it’s helm, “Soundwave: suggested such at the beginning.”

Megatron just exvents. May Primus have mercy on his spark if Skywarp isn’t in one piece.

[merbear25]

Shunsui and fem!reader nurse roleplay scenario? (readers the nurse no one wants to see that man in a nurse costume). Nsfw of course lol

Ohohohoo~ What a fun scenario 🤭 Thank you for sending this in. I hope you like it 💜💜

You’d been nursing your boyfriend back to full health after a big battle. Tending to his wounds helped make your bond closer because you saw a part of each other that wouldn’t have been shown to you otherwise. Your devotion helped scheme a wild idea to play out this role to its fullest.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, established relationship, roleplay (sexy nurse), some teasing, fluffy smut, vaginal penetration, cockwarming, cowgirl, cumshot

Bedside manner (Shunsui)

You came into the bedroom to check on him again, thinking that this would be the last change of his bandages you’d have to do. He greeted you with a smile like always, asking about how your day was going, to which you always responded with gentle teasing.

“Not much else has changed since I saw you a couple of hours ago,” you chuckled softly.

“Oh? Well, then I suppose that’s a good thing.”

Your gentle hum while humoring him on all the ins and outs of your duties for that day never failed to get even the slightest smile out of him. Even though he knew what you’d be up to, yet still asked was something that grew on you. Unwrapping his bandages, the wounds healed nicely, albeit leaving some light scaring in some areas. 

“These look good.” You lightly touched his skin, examining him more closely. A soft inhale came from him. “Did that hurt?”

“No, no, your fingers are cold.”

“Oh, sorry, I guess I shouldn’t have come right in from outside.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He took your hand in his, bringing it to his mouth. His lips ghosted your fingers, letting his breath warm them a little. “I can think of a way to warm you up.”

A smirk played on your lips. “Is that so?”

“Mmhm, been thinking about it for a while, actually.” He placed soft kisses along your knuckles, savoring the way your skin warmed up under his lips. “You’ve been such a good woman, taking care of me the way you did, that I couldn’t help the image I got—you in that nice little nurse outfit you wore for Halloween. You still have it, don’t you?”

His sultry gaze sent shivers down your spine. Your flustered nod made him smirk. “Can you put it on for me for one more request?” The giddiness carrying you out of the room was more than enough of a response from you.

While waiting for you to return, he smiled to himself. Recollections of you tending to him up until he was fully recovered warmed his heart. To have such an incredibly selfless woman by his side was something he never realized he needed so much. His eyes flicked to the doorway. You entered in that skimpy dress, thigh-high laced stockings, and the top already undone to show off your chest.

“You’re absolutely breathtaking.” He adjusted himself to pull you on top of him.

Climbing on his lap, you hiked up the short skirt of your already risque dress. Your g-string left nothing to the imagination and did just as you hoped it would do—lure him into grabbing at your exposed body. His hands went up your dress, tugging on your skimpy underwear and claiming your stomach. Pulling you closer, he wanted to be buried in your cleavage. Kissing and sucking at your sensitive skin was already making you pant with need.

Your hands ran up and down his chest, lightly combing through his chest hair when he nipped at your hardened nipples. Bathing your sweet body in desperate breaths, hot wet kisses, and needy touches was driving you wild. You couldn’t help but moan from the intensity at which he wanted you. Leaning back, the hardened arousal waiting for you had you moaning softly.

“You’ve been waiting a long time for this, haven’t you?” The motion of your hips lured a groan from him.

“Can you blame me? You’re so perfect that it drives me crazy.” Your hands roamed over his bare stomach as you stabilized yourself on his lap. Your hips moved against him, teasing him for more. A wet patch spread on the small piece of fabric of your panties the more you rubbed against him, leaving you hungrier than ever.

“I loved taking care of you, and I don’t want to stop just yet.” Releasing his arousal from confinement, your fingers wrapped around it to give his throbbing need for you a few mercy strokes. The head of his cock showed glistening beads of cum from the slightest attention. “Tell me what you’ve been dreaming about all this time.”

“I just want to feel you… Want to feel you around me so badly.”

Pushing the thin garment to the side, you positioned his tip with your entrance. Pushing it in, you gasped softly, and as you sat on it, you could feel your walls spasming. “I’ve missed this…”

His hands gripped your hips tightly, forcing you in place to allow himself to enjoy your soaked walls twitching around his length. “Me too…” He groaned while bucking his hips slightly.

You met his movements slowly at first, fully savoring the sensations. In no time you began chasing after that fluttering deep within your core that he was hitting so perfectly. His hands moved to your waist, guiding your eagerness up and down on him. 

The scent of desperation blended with the tangy musk of sex. Wet slapping skin filled the room as you creamed on him, your wetness dripping on his hips.

“You’re so perfect,” he moaned in shaky breaths. “In every way”

Your pants of readied agreement grew shrill as he praised you. Hearts pounding against your chests, sweat kissing your skin, and breathless words of devotion: you couldn’t hold on anymore. A blissful groan passed your trembling lips as you shook on him. His choked gasps accompanied a swift pull of you off of him. His hand clenched at his cock, as he pulled you closer. Your breasts were caressing his flushed face, while he shot hot loads on your back and your ass.

You held him closely as he caught his breath. His cum trickled down your smooth skin and onto his stomach, letting the intensity of your session sink in.

“You did such a good job healing me.”

The both of you chuckled softly, still holding each other for a little while longer since you didn’t have the chance for physical intimacy in what felt like an eternity.

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

Request: If you want can you write one about shapeshifters confusing the sister? She doesn't know who is real and breaks down not knowing who she should trust and who to kill?

Sam and Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

A/N: I just kept writing and writing about this one lol oops. I also didn’t proofread so my bad. Requests are open and I’m working hard on getting to everyone’s! Hope you like this:))

Lately, you were on edge and completely weighed down by the constant pressure of trying to save the world. It felt like the world was resting on your shoulders, and in many ways, it was. It left you anxious and overwhelmed, constantly worrying, no matter what you were doing. Your brothers could see how much it was affecting you, especially since you were only 16, and they wanted to do everything they could to protect you from the mental toll it was taking on you. You had just woken up when you heard a gentle knock on your door.

“Yeah?” You asked groggily, rubbing your eyes.

Sam pushed the door open and sent you a soft smile before walking to sit on the edge of your bed. You immediatly pushed yourself up in a sitting position and looked at him with worry.

“What?” You asked slightly panicking, hoping nothing bad happened. You knew he was about to get touchy feely and you were anxious to know why. Did something happen? Is someone hurt? Did someone die? Where’s Dean? Your thoughts were cut off by Sam placing a hand on your knee.

“Hey, it’s alright, everything’s okay.” He reassured, examining your worried face. He knew how anxious you’ve been lately so he sent you a pained smile before he continued, “Dean and I were talking and we thought it would be best if you stayed back instead of going on the hunt today.” He said, already knowing this conversation could go one of two ways.

“But-“ You started before he cut you off.

“Take a rest day bug, it’s okay. We can see the toll this has been taking on you and you need a mental reset.” He said softly.

“But, I-I’m okay.” You smiled, but your voice cracked and betrayed you.

“No, you’re not bug and that’s alright. I know it feels heavy right now and it’s okay to not be okay. Me and Dean have been through it, but you’re so young and no one should have to carry the weight of what you've been through. It’s important to take a day off to take care of yourself alright?” Sam said with his eyes looking deep into yours.

“Okay, yeah.” You said softly, nodding. Sam got up and pulled you into a hug.

“Love you bud.” He said before he kissed you on the side of the head.

“Love you too, be safe please.” You said, already feeling stressed out at the fact that your brothers are throwing themselves at danger once again and you won’t be there to immediately know the outcome of it.

“Always.” Sam reassured, sending out a wink and walking out of your room. You had five minutes of peace before you heard another knock on the door.

“Yeah?” You asked.

Dean stuck his head into the room and sent you a smile.

“Hey kid, I got you a bagel and a chocolate chip muffin and I already have Legally Blonde up on the tv for you.” He said already knowing how to start your self care day off right.

“Thank you!” You smiled and started to get out of bed to start your day.

“Call me if you need anything. We’re heading out now, okay?” He asked.

“Yes, please be careful.” You said shooting him a concerned look.

“Uh I am always careful.” He said matter of factly.

“Mhm.” You chuckled, going in to hug him.

“Love you kid, we should be back by tonight.” He said and ruffled your hair.

“Okay, love you.” You said, pulling away and watching him walk out.

It was around 7pm when you heard some noise outside of your room. You quietly opened the door and saw Dean in the hallway. He didn’t notice you as he walked into his own room. You decided to go to the kitchen to grab one of the cookies you baked earlier to give him one to try. As you walked towards the kitchen the front door opened and in walked Dean.

“Hey Y/N/N!” He said when he saw you. He was making his way down the steps as you froze.

“I-I-I-“ You were confused for about 15 seconds before your heart dropped. This wasn’t Dean. Dean was just down the hall. But what if that wasn’t Dean and this is actually the real Dean. Your thoughts were wild and your heart was pounding.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, seeming concerned.

“No.” You whispered and began to back up away from him.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s the matter?” He asked, now on high alert.

“Get away from me!” You shouted in fear.

“What the fuck?” He said to himself as he put his hands up in defense.

“Where’s Sam?” You asked forcibly, still back away from Dean.

“He’s picking up some food. What’s going on kid?” He asked.

“You were just in your room.” You stated aggressively.

“No I wasn’t.” He responded, confused.

“Exactly.” You sucked in a breath of terror before you bolted out of the room, ready to fight for your life.

“What the hell?” You heard him say as you sprinted into your room. You grabbed your gun and bolted back out towards Dean’s room where you saw him enter just moments before the other Dean walked through the front door. Just as you were about to reach his room, he walked out. You jumped in fear and put the gun behind your back.

“Oh hey kiddo I was just about to come check on you. Sammy ran out to grab us some food.” He finished just as the other Dean rounded the corner to the hallway to find out what was going on with you.

“What the fuck?” They both said at the same time. You brought your gun out from behind your back and shakily held it in front of you, frantically switching between the two Dean’s unsure of who was who.

“Hey Y/N, I need you to trust me and walk towards me right now.” Dean 2, the one that just walked up, said calmly, but urgently. You immediately turned the gun to Dean 1.

“Alright, hey, take it easy, okay?” Dean 1 said with his hands out in front of him, his eyes not leaving yours. “I need you to be smart about this kid. You know me. Shoot him!” He shouted.

You let out a frustrated cry and turned the gun onto Dean 2. You didn’t know who was who and you were freaking out.

“I’m Dean alright?! I’m Dean. You’ve gotta help me out here kid and walk towards me because that’s the shapeshifter, not me.” He said urgently. You were so overwhelmed and tears started to pour down your cheeks as you flipped the gun back onto Dean 1.

“SHOOT HIM Y/N!” Dean 1 yelled at you, but you didn’t falter your gun. “SHOOT HIM!” He screamed at you again. You jumped in freight, but continued to point the gun at him. Dean 1 was so persistent on you killing Dean 2 while Dean 2 seemed like his only goal was to protect you. Your thoughts were interrupted by Dean 1 shouting once more.

“SHOOT HIM, SHOOT HIM, SHOOT HIM, SHOOT HIM!” His demand boomed through the halls making you panic and freeze. He started charging towards you and thats all it took to for you to snap out of it and shoot him twice. He fell to the floor dead.

“Oh thank God.” You heard the real Dean sigh in relief from behind you, but you felt anything but relief. You were left in a trance staring at dead fake Dean, but he looked so real to you. All of your emotions were threatening to spill over. You were so worked up over saving the world while also worrying about your brothers safety. You were scared that you could lose one of them in an instant and now seeing dead fake Dean was too much for you to handle. He was identical to your brother and though he wasn’t really your brother it didn’t leave much up to the imagination if you ever really did lose him. You sunk to the floor staring at the shapeshifter with tears now trailing down your cheeks.

“Dean?” You whispered weakly staring at your brother’s lifeless body knowing that it wasn’t actually him, but not able to shake the emotions you felt. Suddenly your vision was cut off by someone standing in front of you.

“Hey, it’s me, it Dean. It’s okay.” Dean said kneeling down in front of you, but you couldn’t focus on anything as you stared blankly ahead stuck in your own mind. It felt as though nothing around you was real and you were unable to move or speak.

“Hey kiddo you with me?” He asked getting increasingly more worried as he lightly tapped your face with no reaction from you.

“Alright you’re in shock, that’s alright, that’s okay, just know I’m here sweetheart, alright? You’re safe, I’m okay. Everything’s okay, I promise.” He soothed trying to get you to a safe mental space. He started rubbing his hands up and down your arms to try and ground you which worked. You blinked hard before opening your eyes again. Your eyes met Dean’s who were already boring into yours and your flood gates opened. You started sobbing and felt Dean take you into his arms. You gripped onto his shirt tight and clung to him.

“De.” You whimpered into his chest.

“Hey, yeah, I got you. It’s me, I’m alright, I’m here.” He said softly understanding that with your recent emotions seeing him lifeless was too much for you to handle. He gripped you tighter as sobs wracked through your body.

“Shhhh, shh, shh, everything’s alright kid.” He said.

“I’m just so scared to lose you.” You whimpered, feeling your body start to shake.

“You’re not ever going to lose me.” He reassured you and rubbed your back to calm your trembles.

“I- just- the body looks identical to you.” You stuttered trying to find the words to get it out. You felt Dean nod.

“I know kid, I know. It’s alright.” He said softly, understanding exactly where your mental breakdown came from. You pulled away and wiped your tears.

“Okay we should um we should probably do something about this body then.” You mumbled glancing at the shapeshifter, still feeling uneasy.

“Don’t worry about it, I got it. Sam should be here any minute with dinner so go wait for him in the other room alright?” Dean asked, staring down at you.

“Um yeah alright.” You said and walked towards the kitchen. Just as you sat down, Sam walked through the door with bags in hand.

“Hey bug!” He smiled. “How was your day?” He asked before setting the food on the table and getting a good look at you. As soon as he did his face fell.

“What’s wrong?” He asked worriedly seeing your tear stained face. You immediately got up and hugged him, still slightly shaking from earlier.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You felt his chest rumble as he asked you.

“There was a shapeshifter.” You mumbled, gripping onto his shirt tighter.

“What?” Sam asked in confusion pulling you away from him to look you in the eyes.

“There was a shapeshifter who looked like Dean and I couldn’t tell who was who, but I killed the shapeshifter and it just scared me.” You spoke slowly.

“Okay.” Sam shook his head, but still was in absolute confusion on what happened and how it had happened.

“Where’s Dean now?” He asked, trying to understand more.

“Dealing with the body.” You said and went back into his arms, needing comfort once more.

“Okay, alright.” He said and held you close to him.

“Just freaked me out a little bit.” You whispered.

“l understand bug, it’s alright.” He reassured you, rubbing your back. After a couple minutes you pulled away from him and sent him a soft smile.

“You okay?” He asked, still concerned with your mental state.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright.” You responded and sent him one of your cheesy thumbs up. He chuckled and shook his head.

“Alright do you wanna get our dinner out of the bag and put it on the table while I go talk to Dean?” He asked, motioning to the diner bags he had placed on the table.

“Yeah sure.” You responded as he sent you a quick nod and left the room.

You got the table ready and put the food out on the table. Your eyes caught the cookies you totally forgot you baked and got them ready to put on the table also for your brothers to try. As you were walking towards the table with the plate your brothers both walked in.

“I baked cookies today!” You said enthusiastically.

“Your scrumptious secret recipe cookies?” Dean asked hopefully.

“Duh.” You chuckled and shook your head yes. He immediately snagged one off the plate. You looked back at him after you placed the rest on the table and noticed it was already gone.

“Damn you’re the real Dean all right.” You laughed. He sent you a wink and you all sat down at the table to eat. As you opened up your to go box you couldn’t help, but notice the exchanges your brothers were making.

“What?” You asked.

“How was your day?” Sam asked.

“It was actually pretty good!” You said before looking down at the table. “The shapeshifter stuff just threw me off a little bit, but other than that I had a really good day.” You finished.

“Alright well tomorrow we’re all having an off day together kiddo just me you and Sammy.” Dean grinned, knowing you needed to spend time with them.

“Good thing I have three face masks left still.” You smirked, looking between your brothers.

“Good thing Sammy loves to be pampered.” Dean smirked.

“Dean give me a break, you pamper yourself more than Y/N pampers herself.” Sam scoffed.

“That’s actually true.” You laughed.

“Oh be quiet you two.” Dean said in a high pitched girly voice making you all laugh.

[starlightsuffered]

The Whimper of a King

Info - arranged marriage, medieval punishment, smut, needy Hal, making sure partner is satisfied, jealousy, oral (female receiving), soft Hal, wanting to be pregnant, squirting, not cleaning up after squirting, unprotected sex, dry humping, Hal obsessed with cunnilingus, wanting a baby

"He let a Man be killed under his watch, and didn't report it. Two days in the stocks is generous," I said fiercely to the wife of the famous Tavern owner. She was upset with my husband's ruling.

"But, he didn't-"

"You heard the Queen!" Hal roared. "Leave us immediately!"

"Your majesty, should we send in the next peasant?" Asked a knight.

"No, I must speak to my wife for a moment," he said, standing up stiffly and grabbing my hand.

"We are rather behind," said another one.

"Am I not king?" He demanded.

"Of course."

He pulled me along, and I knew what he wanted. He pushed me in a unused room right off the throne room.

"Take care of me," he whimpered as he kissed down my throat.

"Hal," I chuckled, I knew it'd been my display of power that had overtaken him.

"I can't help it," he whined, and I chuckled. I tentatively kissed his lips. He didn't let the kiss be simple. He held my face in his hands, pressing his crotch against me, and even through our thick layers I felt his hard on. His kiss was wild, his tongue making it wet and sloppy.

"You've already had me twice today my King, I have also serviced your cock with my mouth, you need more already? The sun is barely halfway across the sky," I giggled.

"Such a woman as you had never existed, of course I need you again. That display of power was gripping."

"Oh alright my love, who can deny a king?" I asked. He began to strip me immediately.

"I must have your seamstress make your dresses easier to remove," he growled. "I need instant and constant access to your body."

The words washed me in chills. He soon had me naked before him. I never felt more powerful than when he took in my bare form. He didn't even bother with his clothes before pushing me down on an ornate couch. I'd talked to his previous lovers, who were always jealous of me. Through this conversation I'd learned my king had been selfish once. He had never eaten them the way he had me. However, with me, he was addicted to mu juices. He had once requested for his birthday he be allowed to taste me for as long as he pleased. I'd come so many times I couldn't count, and he'd still gone on into the night. The next day his jaw had been swollen, and he could only have liquids, but he hadn't minded in the least.

"I must feast, the finest wine doesn't taste as delicious," he whimpered. He attached himself to my pussy, laving at my wet membranous walls. He sucked at my second pair of lips. I was arching into his talented mouth.

"My husband, you do this like no other," I sighed. He shot up.

"Others have had their mouths on your cunt?" He asked. He didn't judge me, he simply got jealous easily.

"I'm sorry, I swear, Oh!" I had tried to calm him but he'd grabbed handfuls of my ass and brought his mouth to my pussy hungrily. There was no stopping him as he ravaged me. I fell over the edge, my orgasm making me shake and moan, and yet he didn't stop.

"Hal, h Hal, fuck, your mouth and tongue. They're heaven sent, I'm going to come again," I praised him. He hummed inside me, his tongue darting and tracing. Soon I came again, and I felt myself release in a more powerful way than I ever had. When my eyes opened I saw that his face was covered in slick.

"Has any man," he growled as he ripped off his pants. "Even made you do that?"

"No man, no being, not even me," I swore as he entered me. I cherished that I was the only one who would ever hear the King whimper. Not even his enemies would hear this. Only I would hear the noise bred of pure unfiltered desperation.

"I'm not wiping my face, let my people see how my wife has deemed to bless me," he said, and a coil inside me tightened at the idea.

"King Hal, you own me, I am only yours, you need never fret," I promised.

"I need you, I need you, I need you," he chanted, eyes soft and adoring, and for my eyes only.

"You make me feel so good," I told him, unbuttoning his shirt. I desperately needed to touch the velvety softness of his pale torso. Soon his chest was bare. I lifted myself up to lick it.

"You are the only person who makes me weak," he confessed in a near whisper.

"I love that," I sighed.

"I do make you feel pleased don't I? Not just sexually? You are happily wed to me?" He asked. He always needed this reassurance, even more so because we'd been arranged, but the attraction had been instant.

"Of course, and Hal, I want a child please, soon?"

"Oh, yes my love!" He said excitedly, his hips picking up their pace. Genuine excitement graced his features. "I hope they look exactly like you, oh, I'm going to cum my love."

He was painting my insides white as I arched into him, scratching down his back as I too came undone. My walls squeezed him harshly.

"You did come didn't you?" He asked anxiously.

"Of course, I always do," I smiled at him.

"Let me know if you ever don't, that take precedent over many things," he said sternly.

I nodded and kissed him lazily. He didn't lie, he didn't wipe down his face. I knew the guards could smell the arousal, and I knew he didn't care.

[lamija-v]

🎶✨when you get this, put 5 songs you actually listen to, then publish. Send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positivity is cool)🎶✨

aaaa thank you for sending me this! 🫶

Most of my most listened songs rn are by Mrs Swift but I’ll try to be a little more diverse

1. Đurđevdan je a ja nisam s onom koju volim by Bijelo Dugme

2. Suada by Plavi Orkestar

3. Nisam te zbog lepote voleo by Željko Joksimović (tbh his entire discography should be up here but I can’t list just his songs)

4. Haunted by Taylor Swift (again, I want to put entirety of folklore and speak now here, along with some other albums)

5. Fratello by Aerodrom