#Might take me a little while but I'm going to try making a list of YouTube videos I think do a good job explaining the lore.

[javier-pena]

this has been on my tbr-list forever and since i went to a wedding a few weeks ago i thought it was time to finally read this, and i'm just glad i didn't read it before because i would've left that wedding slightly disappointed 🤭

that first description of joel was so so hot!! the tight jeans and the iron maiden shirt? i'm sure i never wanted anyone more omg but that little beat of description, "old enough to remember the Nixon administration" made me laugh, and i think it perfectly sets the tone for the rest of the fic because this story hot and romantic and sweet and very very sexy, and you managed to already convey all of that in the first few paragraphs

i'm also a big fan of them trying to hold back and telling themselves that the other doesn't want them/thinks they're old and creepy because it's so obvious from the start that they can't stay away, and i loved them both masturbating while thinking about the other!!

i also loved the way this was written in general, from the description and the characters and the dialogue to the great imagery you used, like "You’ve stuck a fork in an outlet and you want to do it again." that's such a cool image idk why but i'm kinda obsessed with it

and finally, i absolutely adored the relationship between joel and ms reader, like when he was making sure she really wanted to do this and that she was enjoying herself and when he was watching her face to make sure he was doing a good job, or when she thought about praising him!! all those little moments that showed their care and concern for each other were so so hot and made me love this even more

but my favorite line probably was, "It’s nothing short of heady, to know that you have such a profound effect on a man you thought might be immune to you." i hope i get to experience this at least once because 🥹

and finally the ending was perfect!!! "He takes your hand before unlocking and opening the door, and he doesn’t let it go until he absolutely has to." the romance of it all made my heart clench, but also the way he said "thank you" after she agreed to come to his room? we love a man who goes after what he wants but is also vulnerable about it 🥹

every breath you take

➔ (no outbreak) Joel Miller x f!Reader

➔ 5.3k words

➔ Your dad is getting married to his soulmate and you have every intention of making it the perfect day. The only kink in your plan is your unexpected feelings for your soon-to-be stepdad’s best man.

➔ Rated MA // BILL X FRANK SUPREMACY. LONG LIVE BILL X FRANK. no outbreak, age gap (reader is early 20s, Joel is 45), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, fingering (reader receiving), references to masturbation (reader), pussy pronouns, pet names // reader has female anatomy (no body description but is generally able-bodied) and uses feminine pronouns, is Frank’s adopted daughter (written for all skin tones), wears makeup and a dress, has hair (unspecified length)

➔ Big big thank you to @sugarcoated-lame and @sunlightmurdock for this idea and letting me run with it (sorry it took 5 months 😂) this is psuedo-inspired by my own current activities as my best friend's moh which is why i haven't been super active in the past month or so, thank you to everyone for being so patient with me <33

June, 2013.

After months of planning—stress, sweat, and tears abounding—the big night is here. Well, almost here. The actual wedding is tomorrow, but tonight is the rehearsal dinner; and as your adoptive dad has spent the entire preparatory period impressing upon you, the rehearsal might be even more important than the wedding itself.

With that in mind, you arrive at the venue a few hours early to assist with the set up. Seeing the unassembled pieces and parts of the event brings a smile to your face and a determination to your soul–you want this to be perfect. 

Someone else shares your determination, too.

You would’ve sworn, when you first met him, that an elaborate wedding would be the very last thing Bill would want. And yet this has been as much his planning as it has been your dad’s. It brings so much joy to your heart that your dad has found someone who matches him so completely. You couldn’t be happier for them; and at the same time, you couldn’t be more frustrated for yourself. Because, as dedicated as you are to making this day perfect for them, Bill’s best man and long-time friend is maybe even more dedicated. He’s been turning this wedding into a ‘friendly’ competition between the two of you, trying to one-up you at every opportunity he gets. It’s infuriating—especially when he wears that smug grin that’s become his signature expression around you. It’s torture, too, because all you want to do is kiss that stupid smirk right off his handsome face.

It’s unintentional on his part, you’re sure, but the tension is palpable enough to slice with a butter knife nonetheless. Today is no exception—he’s dressed for labor in worn jeans that are just a little too tight around his thighs and a faded Iron Maiden shirt that hugs his strong biceps. His hair is ruffled like he’s been tugging and running his hands through it, and it puts all kinds of indecent thoughts into your brain.

It’s wrong. The guy’s old enough to be your dad, and that’s aside from the fact that he’s your soon-to-be-stepdad’s best man. No self-respecting young woman should be looking at a guy who’s old enough to remember the Nixon administration the way you are right now. And yet…

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he says in that drawl of his which makes you want to throw your sanity out the window and fall at his feet to worship the very ground he walks on.

You’ve never hated Joel Miller more than you do right now. 

Regardless, you greet him with the sweetest smile you can muster. “Good morning. I didn’t know you’d be here this early.”

“Well, rehearsal’s as important as the weddin’ itself,” he dutifully repeats the line that you’ve heard from your dad a million times over. “And this barn ain’t gonna decorate itself.”

“Well, that’s kinda my job,” you remind him, hoping your tone sounds more annoyed to him than it does to you. 

He flashes that boyish smile that no middle-aged man should be able to master, and it makes your heart skip a beat. “Can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”

You want to grumble about it. You want to be annoyed by this goofy-ass forty-five year old man and his stupid competitive streak. Instead, your mouth betrays you by smiling. “I appreciate the help.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” He punctuates it with a wink, and you consider just falling onto the ground and perishing. Instead, you roll up your shirt sleeves and get to work.

The fruits of your labor are well worth the effort they take. You feel a heady sense of pride when you look around at all the decor–as long as this barn has been a wedding venue, you’re certain no one’s ever made it look this good before.

The tables are arranged neatly in rows, draped with luxurious white tablecloths and topped with neat arrangements of greenery in the centers. The seating chart that Bill and Frank worked so meticulously on is put into effect with hand-written placards designating each chair to an occupant. Strings of white globe lights hang from the rafters and cast a hazy, reverent glow over the entire barn. Everything is the perfect mix of modern and rustic.

Outside on the lawn, rows of neatly arranged chairs line a petal-scattered aisle. Everything leads to the focal point–an eight-foot high arch wrapped generously in green vines and white blossoms. It’s definitely the highlight of the entire thing, which irks you just the slightest bit–it was solely Joel’s vision. Apparently, he’s a lot more artistic than you’ve ever given him credit for. It tracks, you suppose; construction is an artform if you really think about it. He uses his hands to create just like a sculptor, but to a larger scale. And those hands are capable; you’ve seen exactly how much they can move or carry and you wonder if they could–

You shake off that train of thought before it can go any further. If you can’t get yourself under control you’re going to start wearing a rubberband on your wrist that you can snap every time your thoughts about Joel stray into the ‘things you shouldn’t be thinking about a middle-aged man’ category.

He certainly has aged like fine wine for a forty-five-year-old man, though…

Snap.

With a sigh, you give your head a shake in hopes of clearing your mind and take a look down at your watch. You’ve finished with perfect timing–you’ve got about two hours to go home and get cleaned up before you have to be back for the rehearsal dinner.

You look for Joel for a few moments before leaving, but he’s nowhere to be found. It puzzles you a little bit that he wouldn’t at least say goodbye before leaving, but then again he really doesn’t have to answer to you. It’s a well-needed wake up call, a reminder that your feelings–can whatever you’re going through really be called that?–your attraction, is one-sided. He’s here for Bill and Frank, not for you. You’re his best friend’s daughter and nothing more, and the realization washes over you like a bucket of ice water.

You hate the way it sends you spiraling on the drive home. You hate the way you care so much about what he might think of you. You hate the way that you have to look at yourself in the mirror and give yourself a stern talking-to about needing to let this whole stupid crush go. You hate the way that you can’t even pretend the extra layer of mascara you apply isn’t for him.

You avoid Joel the entire night, which isn’t easy to do. You have to walk down the aisle next to him during the ceremony rehearsal but you avoid his eye contact, taking a twisted little satisfaction in the way he frowns when all of your replies to his chit chat are short and clipped. Dinner is easier–both Frank and Bill sit between you and Joel, so there’s no attempted conversation to deflect from him. But you could almost swear you feel his eyes on you, as if he’s looking right through your dad and soon-to-be-stepdad.

Joel is puzzled, to put it simply. One second, he’s got you in the palm of his hand. Then a moment later, you’re looking at him like you might look at a bug you stepped on and got stuck to your shoe.

He puts it out of mind as much as he can. He’s not supposed to be looking at you like that, after all. He’s not supposed to be admiring the perfectly kissable curve of your shoulder or the biteable expanse of your neck. He’s definitely not supposed to be wondering what you’re wearing under that adorable dress of yours. You’re his best friend’s daughter, for god’s sake. You’re so far off limits that he shouldn’t even be looking in your general direction.

But he is. He’s looking, and he can’t stop looking. And most of all, he can’t stop wondering if you feel it too.

Evidently you don’t, because you won’t even take his arm as you practice walking up the aisle in preparation for the big day tomorrow. You’ve probably figured out how much he’s been thinking about you and the kinds of things he’s been thinking, and you’re disgusted. He’s just a dirty old man to you, surely.

Little does Joel know that you come on your fingers moaning his name practically as soon as you’re through the door of your hotel room that night. You fall asleep before you can feel too ashamed about it–blissfully unaware that Joel’s doing the same exact thing just a few doors down.

You wake up in the morning with much more clarity than you usually have, especially at 9AM.

No matter what, today is about Bill and Frank. You get to be part of a true love story, the kind that your dad used to read about to you in bedtime stories when you were a little girl. That knowledge steadies your mind more than anything else ever could.

You jump into the shower and try your best to tame your unruly hair before shuffling down to the dining area on the ground floor of the hotel. 

Bill and Frank really spared no expense on this place. All the food is fresh and hot, replenished every few minutes. It smells incredible–there’s overlapping waves of pastries, sausages, eggs, and fruits. It’s almost overwhelming; there’s way too many options.

After you pile up a plate with as much as your stomach can comfortably handle, you make your way over to the table your father occupies by himself.

“I was wondering when you were going to show up,” he says through a mouthful of cantaloupe.

“Decided to sleep in a little,” you explain. “Where’s Bill?”

“He already had breakfast, he’s getting ready,” Frank explains. “Joel made out a whole schedule for us, put us on different shifts so we don’t see each other before the wedding. It’s bad luck, after all.”

You snort through a bite of biscuits and gravy, because that’s such a characteristically Joel thing to do. From what you know of him, he thrives with routine and function–you’re surprised he doesn’t have you working off of a schedule, too.

A small, annoying part of your brain thinks it’s really adorable that Joel plays into that whole superstition. Another, more sensible part tells you that nothing Joel does is adorable and you’ve really got to stop thinking about him so much.

“How’re you feeling?” You ask, looking up at your dad through a bite of blueberry muffin.

“Relieved, honestly,” he admits with a chuckle and a twinkle in his eye. “I finally get to marry my best friend today, with my other best friend by my side.”

You hide the way the comment makes you choke up behind another bite of your breakfast.

There have been a lot of times where you’ve gone unwanted in your life; starting right at birth, continuing with unrequited crushes and lost friendships. But one person has always wanted you and been there for you through thick and thin. Frank picks you up every time no matter how hard you fall, and you feel so unbelievably lucky to be in his life. 

If anyone deserves a fairytale ending, it’s Frank. He always puts the people he cares about first, and now it’s his turn to shine. You’re not letting anything get in the way of that–especially not stupid, unrequited feelings for the best man.

With a little more resolve in your mind, it’s easier to get ready for the main event.

Every step of your preparation has been immaculately planned over the course of months. From your dress to your make-up, to your hair, not one detail has been overlooked. It takes you more than an hour to get ready–but when you’re ready, you’re a vision. Even though you’re not normally the type to enjoy looking into the mirror, you have to admit to yourself that you look stunning. 

Your traitorous brain wonders if Joel will think the same. 

With a heavy sigh, you grab your bag and your car keys. You really wish you had a way to shut those intruding little wishful thoughts off–they’re doing more harm than good at this point. 

You take a deep breath, shove as much as you can down, and resolve to have a good time celebrating your dads–then you open the door and set out towards an unforgettable night.

Whatever kind of shock and awe you were hoping to inspire in Joel, it’s surely nothing compared to the rush you feel as you find him in the bridal party lounge.

You’ve never seen him quite so put together. He’s normally a bit undone–a symptom of being a long-time bachelor–but today, he’s perfectly styled. The hair he’s been growing out is slicked back into gorgeous curls, his black tuxedo pants hug his hips like a dream. He’s in the process of fastening the last two buttons on his impeccable white dress shirt and every bone in your body screams to stop him–to keep that peek of his tanned chest on display for your hungry eyes.

You have a fearful moment of thinking you actually made the request aloud, because he does stop in his tracks when his eyes land on you. His lips part in shock and his pupils dilate and he freezes. Fingers that were once absentmindedly completing their task drop to his sides as he murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like “wow.”

“Need help?” You offer before you can think better of it.

There’s a long moment of tense silence, and then he nods silently.

Your mouth is dry as you approach him, trying desperately to keep your cool. Your clammy palms are definitely not the most qualified to complete this task for him, but you can’t back down now. With a deep breath–you’re so close now that it fills your nose with the spicy, intoxicating scent of his cologne–you will your hands to stay steady and reach for his shirt buttons.

His lead tongue finally remembers how to work as you fasten the first button. “You look… incredible.”

“So do you,” you whisper. Just when you think you’re out of the woods, ready to step back and breathe properly again, his hand comes up to offer you a bow tie.

“This too?” His warm brown eyes search yours–how could he ever expect you to say no?

“Y-yeah. Sure.” You turn the collar of his shirt up, then carefully fasten the tie around his neck. The band is perfectly configured to his neck, the bow already tied–all you have to do is secure a hook through a loop. He could’ve easily done this himself; and yet he didn’t. He wanted you to do this, and that particular bit of knowledge sends a rush of heat burning through your veins. 

Maybe this whole song and dance isn’t quite as unrequited as you originally thought.

Your fingers brush his warm skin as you smooth his shirt collar back down over the band of the tie and it’s like an electric shock that shoots through every inch of your body. You’ve stuck a fork in an outlet and you want to do it again.

You’re done with your task, yet you can’t bring yourself to step away. He doesn’t either–for seconds that feel like hours, you look into those dark eyes and feel his breath against your face and you finally have the courage to do something about it. You’re going to kiss him, just lean in a little further and–

The sound of the lounge door opening makes your body jolt with the force of an actual fork in an outlet.

“There you are!” Frank’s got an untamable smile on his face–his hair is impeccably gelled back, his white tuxedo tailored to fit like a glove. The sight of him, so close to everything he’s ever wanted, brings tears to your eyes. “Wow, you two look amazing.”

“Hey. Thanks.” You’re fighting with all your strength to keep your voice even and calm despite the compliment. The reality of your father’s happily ever after comes crashing in and you’ve never felt so proud. “First look time?”

“Yeah,” he confirms with a nod. “Is Bill–?”

“Dressin’,” Joel answers after clearing his throat. “I’ll bring ’im out when he’s done.”

“Perfect, thank you.” Frank takes your hand to lead you outside, but not before you look over your shoulder at Joel. He looks thoroughly disheveled despite his sharp appearance–you’ve gotten under his skin. Good.

Thank god for waterproof make-up because you nearly lose your whole face during the first look. Not that you’re wearing much, but it’s enough that it’s jeopardized by the tears your treacherous eyes shed despite trying in vain to will them away.

You’ve never been so happy for two people before. You’ve never seen two people more in love. In their matching white tuxes, with their matching watery eyes, as they turn to greet each other for the first time today, you know that Bill and Frank are a forever thing. It brings you a sense of peace that you never knew was possible.

At some point, you become conscious of the fact that you’re holding Joel’s hand. You know you probably shouldn’t, that you could get both of you in serious trouble–but he’s not pulling away, so neither do you.

The true test of your mascara comes during the ceremony–it passes the test with flying colors, which is truly impressive considering the tsunami it has to hold up against. You’ve never really been a wedding cryer, although you suppose no one would blame you for this one. You’re hardly the only person walking away with tissues to their eyes. Bill and Frank have loved so hard and fought for so long in order to obtain this day–it’s nothing short of incredible to see them finally seal their union with vows.

Before the reception, you pop into the bridal lounge to make sure you’re still presentable. A couple tissues later and you’re good to go, but the sound of the door opening and the lock clicking into place stops you in your tracks.

Joel’s standing there, looking like a dream. Curls slightly disheveled from the wind, top two buttons of his shirt undone with his bowtie hanging out of his jacket pocket. His eyes are slightly red-rimmed, albeit not as bad as yours.

His breath seems to catch when he sees you–he clears his throat before whispering, “Hey.”

For a long moment, your tongue is too heavy to speak. Every ounce of desire from earlier comes rushing back in a flash flood of emotion. It’s just you and him and tension so palpable you could grab ahold of it.

“H-hey,” you breathe. Earlier, you were ready to do something drastic. Now, all the familiar doubts come crashing back in. Are all these feelings one-sided? Were you just seeing what you wanted to see? The feeling of his hand in yours is burned into your palm. Does he feel it too?

“I think it went pretty well,” he hums. His hands are tucked into his pockets, thumbs twitching unconsciously as if he’s nervous.

“It was perfect,” you agree.

For a moment that seems to last a lifetime, you both stand toeing the line. It’s right there, unseen but waiting to be crossed. You don’t know if either of you have the courage it takes to step over it.

And then he moves; he breaks the tenuous balance of platonic and something more by closing the distance between you.

“You really do look amazin’,” he breathes, hands clenching indecisively at his sides. “I mean, you always do, but–”

You grab him before he can finish his sentence. ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ is blaring on the outdoor speakers as your lips finally meet his. It’s been weeks, maybe even months, of dreaming about this moment. It’s better than you ever could’ve imagined.

The world fades away as his breath becomes yours. There’s nothing but the feeling of his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip and his hands gripping your waist and his curls tickling your forehead. Nothing but the sound of his deep groan and the desperate thrum of his heartbeat underneath your palm as it slides up his chest. Nothing but finally feeling complete.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, but he doesn’t dare pull away. His steps sound like cannonfire as he backs you up against the wall, a march towards something deliciously irreversible as his tight grip on your waist bunches the fabric of your dress up. Nothing has ever felt as right as his entire body surrounding and swallowing you this way.

“I want to,” you breathe against his lips. “Do you?”

“God, yes.”

Your arms come up to wrap around his neck and tug him closer, desperately wanting every inch of his body pressed up against you. Just as he’s starting to pull the skirt of your dress up, the song outside changes to ‘Don’t Stand So Close to Me’, strangely apt but also a reminder that you don’t have time. You made this playlist yourself–you know that there’s only three more songs after this one before you’re supposed to be ready for the bridal party entrance to the reception.

“Joel…” you moan out. “Joel, we have to be quick.”

“How quick?” He questions between searing kisses down the length of your neck.

“Ten minutes at the very most.”

“Shit,” he grumbles. He doesn’t pull away though–if anything, he pushes you back harder against the wall. “You still wanna do this?”

As much as you want to say yes, as much as you want to say fuck the reception, you can’t do that to Frank and Bill. “You think ten minutes is enough time?”

“If I can’t make you come in ten minutes I’ll eat my own fist.”

It makes you shiver in conjunction with the way his hand slides feather-light up your thigh.

Even the ghosting touch of his calloused fingertips on your sensitive skin has you aching for more. “Jesus Christ, you’re gonna drive me crazy.”

The cocky bastard has the audacity to actually wink at you. “That’s the plan, sweetheart.”

You drag his lips back to yours with a renewed sense of desperation, relishing the gentle scratch of his trimmed beard against your chin and under your palms. “It’s definitely working.”

“Good.”

You know this is territory that you probably shouldn’t be crossing into, not when he’s twenty years older than you and he’s your new step-dad's best friend, but you can’t be brought to care when those deliciously rough fingertips are slipping under the hem of your panties.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he grumbles against your lips. “She’s soakin’ for me.”

“A-always is,” you gasp out. 

His fingers sweep through your folds, gathering as much slick as he can to swirl around your sensitive clit. He smirks at the way your hands tighten on him even at the lightest of touches.

“That how you like it, sweetheart? Nice and gentle?” He presses a little firmer and a grin spreads over his face at the gasp you let out. “Oh, that’s it.”

“Joel, please…” Your hands move to his arms, squeezing tighter than you probably should but you can’t help it when he’s touching you like this. It’s exactly what you need and he knows it–he watches your face for every little indication that he’s doing a good job.

“Please what?” He purrs quietly. “What do you need?”

You could go on like this for hours, you’re sure–and you’re sure he’d be more than willing. You could stay here in his arms forever and let him work you over until there’s nothing left in your head but his name.

The song outside changes again, and you know forever will have to wait.

“Fuck me,” you plead. “Need you.”

“It’s gonna be tight, sweetheart.” You’d think he was being overly confident if you couldn’t feel the size of the bulge pressing against your thigh.

“That’s okay. Please.”

“Alright, sweetheart.” In a flash he’s got his belt undone and your greedy hands are more than happy to assist in shoving those perfectly pressed pants down his sturdy thighs.

You can’t help the gasp that bubbles out with the sight of him. He’s big. There’s no debate. The flushed tip of him is peeking through mouth-watering foreskin, red and flushed as if angry it’s not inside you already. You’re devastated you don’t have time to take that thick length into your mouth, to make him shudder and shake until he’s begging to fill you.

Later, you remind yourself.

“Still sure about this?” He asks, tone no longer brimming with the urgency and arrogance from just a few moments prior. He searches your eyes intimately for any hint of hesitation–the last thing he wants to do is to push you.

You’ve never wanted anyone more.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Joel.”

“Easy, honey. I’ve gotcha.” The hand between your thighs moves to coat him in your slick–for a moment, you’re mesmerized at the sight of his big hand working over his cock. “Gotta tell me if anythin’ doesn’t feel good, ‘kay?”

“I will, I swear, just please–”

The rest of your sentence gets lost in a breathless moan with the first gentle thrust of his hips. Even just the tip is a stretch–one that has your nails digging into his shirt-clad back and your thighs tightening around his waist.

“Shit, sweetie,” he purrs, voice liquid gold. “Gotta relax, gotta lemme in–”

You manage to loosen your thighs a little and it gives him the space he needs to press all the way in to the hilt–the feeling of him filling you completely is nothing but breathtaking. A broken groan tumbles from his lips–you can feel the way his breath hitches from how his forehead is pressed against yours. It’s nothing short of heady, to know that you have such a profound effect on a man you thought might be immune to you.

“Good?” He questions in a whisper. One of his hands is hooked under your left knee to keep your leg up around his waist; the other strokes absentminded patterns over your right hip, as if unconsciously soothing you.

You give him a shaky nod in response. “Good.”

The pace he sets is the most delicious kind of torture. You both know you’re in a time crunch, so Joel is more than happy to employ the most toe-curlingly relentless speed. Every slick thrust of his cock makes your eyes flutter–little breathy moans escape your lips with fervor as he pounds deep. He's hitting every single spot all at once and then some. All the while his lips trace around your neck and jaw, careful not to leave marks but whining quietly as if he’s tempted. As if he wants nothing more than to claim you in a way that everyone can see.

You moan out his name and the hand on your waist comes to help, settling between your bodies and finding that perfect rhythm from before. You’re finding out that he’s a very intuitive and quick learner–you would certainly praise him for it if you could find the breath to do so. 

The way his hips work–driving him deeper than anyone’s ever been; the way his fingers swirl–bringing you to the brink in mere minutes with the most thigh-shaking friction; the way his mouth works, sucking just light enough on the sweet spot behind your ear so as not to leave a mark… it all builds and builds and builds, leaving you breathless and trembling and teetering on the edge of pure oblivion.

“Y’feel like fuckin’ heaven,” he gasps out against your cheek. “Never gonna get enough.”

The words alone send white-hot pleasure shooting down your spine–you’ve wanted him so badly for so long, and now you know he’s wanted you too. It feels even better with that satisfaction, with the fact of winning the prize you’ve been coveting so deeply.

“Joel…” You want to tell him the million thoughts that are rushing through your head, but your lungs aren’t cooperating. 

“I know baby,” he murmurs with a particularly devastating thrust. “I know. S’okay.”

It’s too much and simultaneously not enough. You dig your nails into his shirt to tug him closer, a silent plea to get him working against that spot again. He complies without words, hitching your leg a little higher around his waist and angling his hips in a way that makes you cry out his name again.

“I’m gonna–”

“Yeah, go ‘head,” he purrs breathlessly. “Lemme feel it, come all over my cock.”

His fingers press a little firmer against your clit and that’s all you need for the knot in your stomach to unravel with blinding force. It travels through every nerve like some delicious form of spontaneous combustion, making your body shiver with the energy of it. It’s the best you’ve ever felt–you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of it, either.

“That’s it honey, holy shit…” He murmurs before finally meeting your lips again for a breathless and panting kiss. “W-where?”

For a moment, you have no clue what he could possibly be talking about. His thrusts are losing rhythm with each moment, as if he’s about to–

“Inside,” you whine out after your moment of clarity. “Please–”

“Shit,” he spits even as he drives himself impossibly deeper. “Y���sure?”

You’re not even conscious of nodding your head–all you know is that you need him completely. “It’s safe. Promise.”

“Atta girl,” he whispers. “Gonna leave you fuckin’ drippin’, won’t be able to stop feelin’ it all night–”

His head tips back as the first wave crashes over him, eyes squeezed shut and mouth dropped open as his hips grind into yours. There’s nothing short of pure ecstasy on his face with the first few ropes of cum that fill you. You’ve never seen anything quite as beautiful as the pleasure washing over this gorgeous man’s gorgeous face. Knowing that you’re the cause of all this nearly sends you over the edge all over again.

He grunts as he shoves himself a little deeper, eager to feel every inch of you as he unwinds. “Christ, honey… squeezin’ me so goddamn tight.”

“Not my fault you’re huge.”

He chuckles at that, staying seated deep within your walls for a moment longer so he can kiss you again. It’s lost its edge of desperation, but it makes up for it with an overwhelming note of sweetness. His hand cups your jaw to guide the angle and once again you’re struck by that overwhelming sense of rightness. It’s like you were meant to be here, meant to take everything he gives you and more, meant to love him.

The song outside changes to ‘Every Breath You Take’, the song before the entrance song, and you spring to action.

“Shit, Joel, we’ve got to go.”

He pulls out with an overdramatic groan, as if it hurts him to be separated now that he knows what it feels like to be joined. You can feel the drip start even before his hand comes to fix your panties, but there’s hardly enough time to worry about that.

“How’s my make-up?”

“Perfect, darlin’. Not a thing outta place.”

“Thank god for waterproof,” you chuckle as you straighten your dress.

His dark eyes meet yours as your hands smooth out his rumpled shirt–there’s still so much swirling behind them, so much promise of things to come.

“We’ve gotta go,” you repeat when he halts by the door.

“Just a sec,” he murmurs. And then he pulls you in for one final, saccharine sweet kiss. “Come to my room w’me tonight.”

“Okay,” you promise–you’re surprised you can keep your voice even when just the question makes your heart skip a beat.

“Thank you.” It’s genuine, earnest. It makes your heart skip another beat.

He takes your hand before unlocking and opening the door, and he doesn’t let it go until he absolutely has to.

➔ beta: @schnarfer and @futuraa-free thank you my darlings <3 ; dividers: @saradika-graphics

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[crystalkitty1220]

Man I wonder where the leader of the fear realm could've gone, it's alMOST LIKE NEVIN HAS AN

[icewindandboringhorror]

Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...

[cocklessboy]

The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.

I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.

And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!

We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.

There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.

Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.

Except...

I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.

I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.

The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.

Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".

There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.

And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.

His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.

I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.

That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.

I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.

Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.

Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.

If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.

It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.

I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.

[russellsppttemplates]

It is what it is (Lando Norris)

It takes Lando a while to notice how you always assume he has something else to do whenever you need his help

Note: english is not my first language. It's slightly angsty but has a good ending! ✨️ is this good, is this bad? I'm not too sure

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: alludes to the lack of quality time between a couple

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Look at you, beautiful girl", Lando twirled you as he stepped inside your bedroom, noticing you were getting ready, "are you going somewhere?".

"Yes, I have an appointment at my optometrist", you smiled, "Anna should be here soon to take me".

"Is it a joint appointment?", Lando squinted.

"No, you muppet", you giggled, "my optometrist needs some exams on my eyes, so I have to today because that's when the ophthalmologist is there and they recommended that I had someone take me there because they want to dilate my pupils and, depending on how it goes, my sight might be a little affected for a couple of hours", you offered, making sure you had everything you needed to take.

"You could've told me and I would've taken you", Lando added, accepting the kiss you placed on his lips.

"I thought you had a meeting this afternoon", you reasoned.

"I do, but I could have moved that around a little and fit everything into the schedule", he reasoned back.

"It's okay, don't worry about that", you mused, "That's Anna - bye, handsome!", you kissed his lips one last time before making your way out and downstairs to meet your friend.

The ride to the office wasn't long, you and Anna taking the time to catch up and learn about the new gossips she had to update on you.

"And how's Lando? I haven't seen him in a while", Anna stated after you sat in the empty waiting room waiting to be called.

"He's been busy lately - he has a meeting today with the team, they're also launching a new collection for Quadrant and they're investing a lot in the social media content, so he's been busy recording a lot of videos and stuff", you offered, never shy whenever it came to talk proudly about your boyfriend's achievements, "and we're also on the countdown for the season to begin, so there's training and meetings and all that".

"Sounds like a busy schedule, no wonder why I haven't seen him - I'm surprised you even see him at all", she joked, grabbing her phone once she remembered she had something to show you.

You were surprised yourself at every bit of time you were able to spend with Lando, as lately it had become near impossible to do so apart from sleeping in the same bed, and even that was rare as he was often travelling between Monaco and England on a weekly basis.

"Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?", the doctor called you before you stepped inside the exam room, starting with the procedures.

The check up itself didn't take long despite the twenty five minute wait for the drops to dilate your pupils, "Don't forget your sunglasses, Y/N!", the secretary reminded you before you stepped outside.

"Thank you, have a good afternoon", you smiled before tapping Anna's shoulder, "Give me your arm so I won't trip", you mumbled.

"Is your sight that bad? The doctor said it should be good enough", Anna worried as she was about to open the door.

"No, it's fine, but if I'm clumsy on any good day, imagine how probable it is for me to fall on some stupid step or raised cobblestone", you argued as you both chuckled, making your way to her car.

Before you went home, your friend stopped by the pharmacy to get you the relief eye drops you'd have to follow the medication regimen with for the next few days, stopping by your favourite bakery so you could enjoy some sweet pastries.

"Can you even read these prescriptions?", Anna asked as she read the regimen you had to comply with.

"Stop making fun of me, you say that as if I'm almost blind", you swatted her arm before reading - trying to - the words, "fucking hell, am I?".

"I can barely read them myself, Y/N! They're so tiny I don't know how they give these to eye patients! Is Lando going to be home soon? That way he can help you with this", she suggested.

"Can I even see the time? At least that", you mumbled as you looked at the large numbers on your phone, "he'll probably take a while still - I can set the alarms on my phone and I'll memorise the different drops", you tapped your head.

Once it was all settled and you assured Anna she was fine to go home and you'd be perfectly well on your own, you walked her to the door before going back to the living room as the sun was no longer shinning outside and you could lay down on the sofa.

The nap you were taking was cut short by the door being shut, making you rub your forehead before an alarm rang. Getting up to head to the bathroom where you kept the supplies, you found Lando taking his trainers off.

"Hi baby, how was your appointment?", he asked as he put the footwear away.

"It was good, need to go and apply my drops", you smiled, turning the light on and grabbing the right box of medication.

"Is that what the alarm was for? I thought we had gotten a new security system I was not aware of", Lando joked as he watched you wash your hands.

"Yes, these instructions are so small to read that Anna thought it would be best to have alarms so I wouldn't mess it up since it's still a little bit blurry", you mused.

"Do you want me to do it?", Lando offered.

"No, it's fine - I'll have to do this for the next 48 hours anyway, so I might as well get used to it", you stopped talking so you could apply them, almost holding your breath until the drops fell.

"My lovie", Lando whispered on your ear once he felt it was okay to approach you, hugging your mid section from behind and kissing your neck as you put your hands on top of his.

.

You were adding the finishing touches on the present wrapping, the shiny gold string fiddling between your fingers as you tried to tie a bow with it around the paper bag handle, when Lando stepped inside your home office.

"That's looking pretty", he mused as he handed you the tape you were looking for on your desk.

"Thank you", you offered before placing the sticky piece down, "the bag is quite plain and even though the present inside is what will get her attention, it should come in nice wrapping".

"Who is this for?", Lando asked.

"It's for Maya's birthday tonight", you smiled, admiring your work.

"Is that tonight? Fuck, this week has flown by", Lando cursed, "I can't make it - will you let her know, please? I'm sorry I can't go", Lando pouted, "if she has to pay for having made the reservation with me in it, let me know and I'll pay my part!".

"I had already told her I'd be going alone, so she made my reservation without a plus one", you mused, remembering the conversation that came around the time of booking the venue.

Lando was leaving late in the afternoon for a trip with Max, Ria and some of the Quadrant athletes, so like you predicted, he couldn't attend the dinner with you.

"Oh", Lando offered.

"Max told me about your plans and when Maya told me the date, I assumed you wouldn't be able to go", you explained with a tinge of sadness and conformity in your voice.

"Well, it seems you guessed right", Lando chuckled despite the uneasy feeling on his chest.

You seemed sad that he wouldn't be able to join you, but at the same time you didn't? Lando put the topic at the back of his mind for now, heading to the bedroom so he could pack the last minute things.

"I was thinking of wearing this dress", you said once you joined him inside a while later, taking the steamer out of your drawer and setting it up to get out any kinks and wrinkles.

"That one is one of my favourites on you, but then again, they all are, I think", Lando mused, kissing your cheek as you waited for the steamer to be up for use.

"Figured it would be a little cold out tonight, so I chose this one, and that coat over there", you pointed.

"You'll be the most beautiful in that room", your boyfriend complimented, pecking your lips before he let you continue your task.

A couple hours later, Lando found himself restless as he scrolled through the posts and stories of Maya's birthday dinner, "Ria", he called, "what would you think if your partner made plans without you because they figured you wouldn't be able to go anyway?".

Ria exchanged a look with Max and Tara before she spoke, "did they ask me if I could go?", she offered.

"They didn't, but truth be told it's not like you have given them much to believe that you could join them", Lando mumbled the last part.

"I think I'd be a more 'it is what it is' at the start if I saw that it was something out of their reach, but I'm not sure I'd put up with it if it was genuine disinterest from them", Ria explained.

"It's not disinterest! They're just busy and shit at organising their schedules", Lando groaned defensively.

"Okay, okay", Ria calmed the room down once Max squinted his eyes at his bestfriend, "then I guess they would have to make sure they do better", she shrugged, "is everything alright?".

"Yes, yes, sorry for snapping just then", Lando offered her a tight lipped smile.

Everyone carried on with what they were doing before the existencial question, Max seemingly as stuck on it as Lando, "is this an hypothetical thing or are we calling people by their names and working this out?", he whispered to Lando.

"It's fine, just a loose thought I had there", Lando grumbled.

.

Lina 🤎

Hi, Y/N!

You won't bother, don't worry - I think I miss having someone other than my boyfriend to talk to 😅

Would it be okay if you visited in the afternoon? Our morning routine is still a shitshow (literally and figuratively), so we would appreciate it if you came after her first nap, around two pm?

One of Lando's older couple friends had a baby a couple of weeks ago, and while you were dying to meet their baby boy as soon as he came earthside, you were respectful of their adjustment period so you waited for them to be up for visitors and were ready to comply with whatever schedule they offered.

"It smells nice in here", Lando commented as he stepped inside the kitchen, "what delicious food are you making and can I please have a bite?".

"I made a little tray for us, but the big one is to take for Lina and Theo - I can imagine they don't have much time for cooking, so food is welcomed by them", you smiled, setting the cheese grater down once the measurements were like the recipe stated.

"Are you going to visit today? I have some streaming with Max scheduled for this afternoon", Lando added.

"Lina told me that this afternoon was the only time they could handle some visits - you know how it is with new parents and newborns and all of that -, I didn't want to change their schedule when I have some flexibility with my schedule", you explained, "I'll give the little one a big kiss from you, then?".

"Well, in that case, I should give you two big kisses then - one for you", he kissed your lips once, "and then this one for the little one", he smiled before kissing you again.

You shared lunch in a semi comfortable silence, Lando telling you a bit about the stream they would be doing and you sharing some work updates from your end.

When Lando gets a text in the middle of watching Max send his virtual car to the curb, "who might that be that's brought such a big smile to your face?".

Lando checked the photo to make sure the baby's face was covered despite his friends having already posted him, tuning the phone to show the camera, "Y/N met our friends' baby boy for the first time", Lando gushed.

"That's the little nugget", Max cooed, "she looks very happy with a baby on her arms", he wiggled his eyebrows, "have you met him already?".

"No, I haven't yet! She could only go this afternoon and we had this so...", Lando tsked, admiring the picture one last time before setting the phone back down. The baby was perfectly nestled on your arms, hiding his face on your chest as you looked down at him with a big smile on your face.

Now that he thought about he, he hadn't seen such a big smile in quite some time, and he was really starting to believe he was the reason behind it. He was absent, more than usual and more than the standards of your relationship considering his job.

The air had shifted around you once you came back from meeting Lina's little boy and Lando could only pinpoint it to the subject he thought about earlier.

"Lan, did you hear what I said?", you asked as you showed him another picture of you touching your noise in the little boy's.

"It's just... are we okay, baby?", Lando questioned. Even though it seemed like he was the only one that felt there was something wrong - different at least -, surely you had noticed it too.

"What makes you say that?", you asked.

From the serious tone, your boyfriend mentally slapped himself. Whatever it was, he was on the wrong and you had indeed noticed it too.

"I've noticed you don't ask me for help with stuff like driving you somewhere or accompanying you to places, which is fine if you want to do things on your own, I'm not saying you can't have your own independence, you know I'm not controlling you in that way - obviously! Fuck, I'm rambling! What I mean is, I have been taking notice that you just assume that I'm not available, and your assumptions are not unfounded, and it makes you sad, and I myself am upset that it has reached this point", Lando stated.

"It's not great, I can tell you that, but we knew it would be like this, your schedule is not the regular nine to five - it is what it is, Lan", you argued.

"But it's not, not all the time anyway! I want you to know you can always count on me!", Lando stated, "Y/N, you are one of my priorities and I never want to let you down - I'm going to make sure that from now on I spend more time with you and that I'm by your side a lot more", he rubbed your palm, "damn, I was so stupid, I'm sorry, lovie".

"Lando, these things happen", you attempted, "now we can work on it".

"You can count on me for little and big things in life - you need to go to the post office? I'm there helping you put the letter in the box. Dinner with your friends? I'll find it in the schedule to go and I don't care who I have to tell no to!", he pointed his finger, "I never ever want you to feel like you don't belong in my life or like I don't want to be involved in yours, Y/N - I'm so so so sorry that it took me so long to notice it".

"It's in the past", you smiled, pecking his lips softly, "now, look at this cute little nugget, he's so cute, we have to go there another day so you can meet him, and I think Theo won't mind another traybake".

[invisible-friend-system]

So I decided to make a drawing challenge for systems and plural people (aka, me explaining Systember)

Systember is a lot like other drawing challenges, except instead of taking place in October like a lot of other ones, it takes place in September, and is focused on plurality and systems. (Why September? Purely because of the name. That's literally the only reason.)

If you decide to participate, please tag your works with "systember" so I can look at them all cause I'm a curious little goober :33 And please reblog this post to get the word out!

List and questions under the cut

Prompt list:

Together

Protective

Animal

Peaceful

Love

Family

Introject

Memory

Blurry

Switch

Spectator

Nonhuman

Self

Friends

Body

Sadness

Little

Happy

Glass

Headcanon

Gaming

Art

Relax

Hobby

Nature

Colors

Anger

Parent

Shiny

Your choice!

Questions you might have (and answers you might need):

"Do I have to follow the prompts?" Absolutely not, they're just a suggestion. I tried to keep them vague enough to allow anyone to participate. The plural experience is wide and varied, and this challenge hopes to celebrate that.

"Can I participate if I'm ____?" This challenge is open to all systems/plurals/multiples, no matter their origins or beliefs. If you share a body with other people in some way, this challenge is open to you. While I can't exactly stop singlets from participating in this challenge, it's not exactly meant for them. That being said, I want no syscourse to interfere with this challenge. We're here to draw, not to argue.

"What if I don't draw everyday?" That's fine! Do what you can! You don't have to make fully fleshed out pieces, you don't have to draw every single day, you don't have to participate at all, no one's holding you at gunpoint to draw these. Just have fun to the best of your ability.

"This was posted too late! I have no time to prepare!" Yeah, uh... I forgor. Sorry.

"Are you going to be doing this?" I'm gonna fuckin try! Although most of my art will probably be posted to @somewhatdailyanthrostuck since we have a lot of Homestuck introjects and I need ideas for my "daily" drawing blog.

[avocado-writing]

Hello! Might I ask for the lovely bg3 guys hearing tav say they're love them in the middle of an argument please? Take your time!

Astarion

Who knows what you're arguing about. It could be something sincere (his ascention) or something inane (he took your soap without asking, again) but it still slips out all the same:

"You're lucky I love you, or I'd be really angry."

The two of you stop and stare at each other for a moment, before you let out a strangled little sound and exit the conversation.

Astarion is baffled. He wasn't expecting that. Except, he sort of was? He's been trying to get you to fall for him after all, so why does it feel so... nice to hear you say it? And why does he feel so guilty?

The two of you move on like nothing's happened for a while, the tension bubbling between the two of you, until eventually he can't take it any more.

The two of you are on watch one night and he blurts out, "I love you too."

You stare at him for a long moment, he's never felt smaller. "Are you being serious?" "Yes. I am."

You look so relieved. He brings you into his arms and the two of you stay embraced for the rest of the night.

Gale

It's like you're arguing about the bomb inside him.

He's arguing it's the best solution to your problems, you're telling him that he needs to care about himself more. You're getting so frustrated that tears are starting to sting hot in your eyes.

"I wish you loved yourself like I love you, Gale."

Ah, you didn't mean to let that slip out. The two of you let the quiet sink in. You go to move away, his silence crushing, but he reaches out to grab you - not hard, but enough so that you stay.

"You love me?"

Tears come, inevitably.

"Of course I love you, Gale, you utter fool."

You can see he wants to argue about that but for once just takes the insult, pulling you into his arms so tightly you feel like he'll keep you there forever. Yes, he is a fool for not seeing it earlier.

"I love you too. You are the most precious thing in my life. I'm sorry for worrying you... and you're right, of course. You're always right."

You sleep in his arms that evening, and the Netherese Orb is never mentioned again.

Wyll

Oh, Wyll. Why would you be arguing with this sweet, kind man?

Maybe you're begging him to try and get out of his contract with Mizora, take back hold of his own life again. He's arguing about duty, what he owes to Baldur's Gate.

"I wish you'd think for once about what you owe to me, Wyll. To yourself! I love you!"

His mouth falls open, he's flabbergasted. When you try and escape he doesn't let you, following you into the forest where you run, calling your name.

Eventually you slow down enough for him to catch you and bring you in for a sweet kiss, then press his forehead against yours.

"I love you too. Of course I love you. I hate that I ever made you feel anything less than my absolute priority. You are always the first in my heart."

The two of you sit down and have a long, healthy conversation about talking things out as a couple. Making decisions together. At the end of if you come out stronger, united as a team.

Halsin

Halsin is probably the most laid-back on this list, it's hard to think of something you'd really argue about.

It comes down to this: you aren't taking care of yourself enough. Not eating properly, sleeping properly, sharing your burdens. You are trying to shoulder it all.

He keeps telling you that you need to be kinder to yourself - you keep snapping that he isn't in charge, he doesn't know what it's like. He tells you he cares about you too much to see you in pain.

You're angry at first - who is he to tell you what to do - and then you're just sad; burying your face in his chest.

"I love you too much to argue with you, Halsin," you whisper, and his heart melts.

"I love you too, my heart. Let me take care of you."

He cooks you dinner and makes sure you eat it all, draws you a bath and helps you wash. His fingers are magic. He lays down with you on your bedroll and lets his body warm yours, keeping you tight against him, only drifting off himself when he is sure you are sound asleep.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 12: Skip The Bagel Next Time

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 11.7K (I know it's a big boi, but so much happens)

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it) and because there is an ATTEMPTED SEXUAL ASSAULT that the reader stops. Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Dark Themes, Dark Thoughts,  Kidnapping, Torture, Blood, GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF DEATH, DEATH, BLOOD, GUTS, Threatening, Denial, A whole lot of denial,  Manipulation, Self deprecating thoughts, Talks about weed, Super Manipulative Creepy Trash Man, Sexist Comments, Kinda awkward situation, Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

A/N: I'm serious y'all this one is BLOODY, the show is too, but really this one has got A LOT. There is an attempted SEXUAL ASSAULT and there are SEVERAL graphic deaths. If you do not like that or if that will hurt you, please don't read this. I love you all and I don't want anyone to be hurt from this.

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

READER POV

The cold was oppressive, seeping through flesh and bone and scratching along your soul. A chill travelled along the bare plains of your face and fingertips to freeze whatever it could, clawing at your clothes to find the skin hidden beneath. You'd never known cold like this, even in the winters when the snow drifted and swirled overhead, glinting in the streetlights as you shuffled home after a long day you were able to keep it at bay, but now there was little you could do to protect yourself.

For you, cold was deadly, just like the early frost that crept along greening leaves in winter, you too felt the effects of the temperature when it dropped.

You thrived in the sunshine and absorbed the rays like a tree raising it's arms to worship the rising sun, but in the cold you were hollow, like the weathered trunk of an old oak long lost to frost and snow.

The dark and cold surrounded you in a shroud of chill and ice, making you feel tired and alone. And this time you didn’t know how much longer you could go on before you succumbed to the frigid embrace.

You didn't know how many days had passed since Darren left you with Elijah, there weren't any windows in the freezer and no way to tell the passing of time.

That's what you decided to call it.

There was no light in it, but you'd walked the perimeter on shaky legs feeling along the ice covered walls while trying to avoid the pieces of meat hanging from hooks above you.

At least, you hoped it was meat. There was something else that seemed too dark to consider, but after being in here as long as you had, your mind began to inch along the edge of the cliff that beckoned you to leap into the churning water below.

No one had come since you woke up in the darkness and you’d given up counting seconds.

No Elijah, no Darren, no team, and no Ben.

 hat last one you weren't sure why you added it to the list or why you separated it from thoughts of your team, but you were starting to believe what Elijah said to you in his office, that Ben hated you and now he wasn't going to come help you.

He said he didn’t care, of course he's not going to come.

The thought wasn't unfamiliar, but it was just as unwelcome. You wanted to believe that your team would come for you or at least Annie. She was your best friend and you knew that she would figure out something was up, but you were worried that Darren had figured out how to keep everyone off his trail. He did have your phone and he was your brother which meant he knew most of what to say if someone texted you. But you tried to remain optimistic that Annie would be able to smell the imposter.

You’d tried talking and shouting at the frozen walls for someone to hear you, screamed yourself hoarse, but there was no one to answer.  There's a dull throb in your limbs that won't leave and a hollow in the pit of your stomach. No one had brought food or water, and you'd taken to relieving yourself in the opposite side of the cell.

I guess that's what this is. Elijah put me a cell.

You couldn't hear anything outside, no rumble of the expressway, no splash of water against the rocks, no honking of traffic, and no low murmur of people speaking outside.

It was just you alone in the darkness waiting for whatever came next.

The shudder that works it's way down your spine has nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with Elijah. What he said to you in his office worried you. You weren't one to give in, but the superhuman strength he possessed in was troubling you. And without plants nearby you weren't sure you could fight off someone who was so much stronger.

Not to mention you could feel the weakness of your body beginning to close in on you. Being in the cold was quickly becoming unbearable and you weren't sure how much longer you could take this before it caused permanent damage.

You would cry again if you had anything left. You couldn't believe that Darren would do something like this, that he would allow Elijah to take you and that your brother was so desperate to pay off a debt that he used you as a bargaining chip. You wondered if Darren knew what Elijah would do to you or if he didn't care as long as it settled his debt.

After all these years of me paying off his debts, he probably thought that I'd be happy to do something like this. I've been giving up parts of my life so he could go off and live his. I never said no. I never turned my back on my brother and look where it got me.

You'd thought that you were showing your brother how much you loved him by bailing him out as many times as you did, but now you felt stupid and used. You now saw that your brother didn't care about you, the only thing he cared about was how willing you were to give him money and support him for nothing in return.

You huddle further into a ball in the corner of the room, your back pressed against the frozen wall trying to reach out for some kind of plant energy, but there isn't anything. There wasn't a single seed, vegetable, or piece of plant in the freezer or anywhere nearby and it made all of this worse. It made you feel unsettled being away from them and you're reminded of the cruise Annie and you spent together where you were isolated from land in the middle of the ocean and couldn't leave the cabin.

You couldn’t even feel the sickness of the marijuana plants anymore. That was the only welcome part of all of this, that you couldn't feel them anymore, not when it made you dizzy to be that close to them.

Then again, I'll take what I can get. If I get out of this I'm going to start carrying seeds in my pockets everywhere.

You press your lips together, feeling the chapped flesh that was dry and flaking flushed red. Your cheeks and the skin of your face were the same way. You felt tired and you knew it was your body telling you to shut down, slowing your heart rate to save your life, but you fought it.

At first you'd tried to keep moving around the cell, rubbing your left arm up and down your right to keep warm the best you could, while avoiding the large pieces of meat hanging from the hooks above, and distracting yourself with how bad it smelled instead of the cold. But you gave up walking around and decided to conserve as little heat you had left by crouching down and shivering in the corner. Your could feel your mind going a little bit cloudy, as if you couldn't focus on anything. You hadn't slept and you weren't sure if that was why you were confused or if it was your body beginning to shut down.

It scared you to think that if you fell asleep, you wouldn’t wake up again.

Of all the things that Darren had done this was the biggest betrayal, that much was obvious. Telling Elijah that you were a supe who could control plants was one thing, but telling Elijah that you don't do well in the cold was unforgivable, especially because Darren knew how dangerous it was for you to be in cold for a prolonged time.

I wonder if he ever cared for me, or if this has all just been a game to him from the beginning since our parents died.

You had thought that you were doing what your parents would have wanted you to do in supporting your brother, thought that you were showing him the love they would have given him, but now you wished that you'd turned your back on him years ago. 

You move slightly, but wince with the pain that comes streaking down your right arm. It was a bad break and you knew that it probably needed to be set, because it had swollen up beneath your sleeve and was now an ugly purple color in certain places. You couldn't straighten it at all without screaming so now you kept it contracted and against your chest. You would have made a make-shift sling for it, if you didn’t want to keep as much skin covered from the cold.

Maybe the cold is helping it.

You think to yourself gently probing along your right sleeve, but wince when you get to your forearm and lean your head back against the wall while gritting your teeth together to keep from screaming. You had left your hair down as a way of protecting your ears and the skin of your neck, but now the strands were dry and brittle. You worried that they would snap off at any second.

Fuck, Ben where are you?

The thought was surprising. You hadn’t meant to think of him again, hadn’t meant for your mind to drift to him, but it did. You’d be lying if you didn’t imagine Ben barging in and saving your life. When you imagined your team doing a big rescue, Ben was always leading it with Annie close behind him.

You would kill for a hug from him right now, he was always so inhumanly warm and it was such a comfort. The memory of him laying on top of you comes back and you imagine it, feeling the weight of his body, feeling the warmth that curled through him and into you, but then you remember what you yelled at him.

Are those going to be the last things I say to him? All those terrible things about his team and his son?

You frown at the thought. You didn’t want it to be. Now you were more upset that you hadn't listened to him about Darren, that you hadn't seen the things that Ben had. If he were here you might even let him say "I told you so." 

Maybe, and only once.

You wondered if this was how Ben felt when he was trapped in Russia for forty years, if every day he waited for someone to come get him who never would. If every day he remained hopeful that Countess would break down the door and save him. It was cruel of her to leave him there with that hope and you could never imagine doing that to him. You could imagine how alone he must have felt, how small and helpless he did, and how much it probably broke him when he figured out that she wasn’t coming for him.

He's not going to come save me. You think to yourself remembering what he yelled to Darren before he slammed the bathroom door. He doesn’t care about me. Everyone else will come, but he won't. 

The thought made it feel like you were going to cry. Then again you kept having that feeling come surging up, but it never brought any tears. The only way you hadn't dehydrated was that you kept having to break some of the ice off the wall and sucked on it, trying not to ignore how much colder it made you.

But if he didn't care, then why did Ben try to warn me about Darren?

It's not the first time you’d thought that. It was the truth. You didn’t understand why Ben was acting like he cared and yet he said those things to your brother, why Ben shouted things just as bad at you that you'd shouted at him.

He called me stupid. He insulted me. He's just always so damn stubborn and rude and annoying and-

You sigh and press your head into your knees. It doesn’t matter now. Nothing does.

The door handle jingles as if someone is trying to open it and the lights of the freezer flare to life, temporarily blinding you. You blink to clear your vision, squinting at the two large men dressed all in black who enter. One of which you identify as Joe, the man who had been outside at the gate, the other you have no idea who he is, but suspect that he's probably another part of Elijah's security team.

Standing seems like too much effort, so all you do is glare at them from your seated position.

"Come here often?" You cough out a laugh, your voice more of a rasp.

Neither of them laugh.

Annie would have laughed. Maybe Ben.

Joe grabs you by your left arm and hauls you up off of the ground, the motion of your body bending feeling like each joint is creaking and cracking, breaking through ice as they move.

He practically drags you from the room and you don't fight him. If anything you understand that you’re going to need to conserve your strength for wherever it is that you're going.

Your legs don't really work as he hauls you down the hallway, your feet stumble and try to catch against the solid ground, but not quite correctly.

You can feel your skin flaking away under your blouse where Joe is holding you by the arm, the other man following silently behind with his hand in his jacket as if prepared to pull out a gun. You figure that Elijah sent two men as a precaution if you had found some kind of plant in the freezer.

Maybe I should be flattered that he's not underestimating me. You frown. Yeah, no not gonna do that, the asshole locked me in a freezer.

The warm air in the hallway is a welcome change from the freezer, but it almost hurts for your body to be abruptly put in a place so different than the place you'd been inhabiting for who knows how long.

Joe shoves your body forward into a door in front of you and as you move towards it, the door opens and you fall onto the floor directly onto your bad arm.

This time you do scream when the white hot stab of pain shoots through your right arm as it makes contact with the floor. And Joe laughs.

"For a supe you're pretty wimpy." He chortles to himself, yanking you up from the ground again by your left arm. "Then again what a waste of a power, making the flowers grow."

Your teeth grind down. "Keep talking and I'll shove some of those pretty flowers up where the sun don't shine."

"I don't think you're in the position to make threats." Joe smirks. He shoves you deeper into the room and your body stumbles back, but you catch yourself on a plush highbacked navy armchair.

"Oh really? How do you know this hasn't been my plan all along? To get you and tweedle dum over there alone." You clear your throat glancing around the room for something you can use as a weapon.

The room is smaller than the office was, more intimate. With two navy high backed arm chairs, a leather couch that looks more decorative than comfortable and a fireplace where a fire roars, sending a wave of heat through the back of your shirt.

You scramble forward to try and melt your frozen fingertips, but keep the two men in your line of sight.

"I'd be nicer if I were you sweets. When the boss is done with you and he gives you to me, maybe I'll be a little gentler than he is." Joe's eyes trace down your body, making revulsion rise in the back of your throat like bile.

You were already feeling a little better, but you still couldn’t use your right arm and there were no plants that you could draw from. The good news was that these two men weren't supes, which meant that you might be able to take them with just your strength, but your arm was the problem.

"Joe." Elijah sighs as he enters the room behind the two men. "Are you being rude to our guest?"

"Just telling her how it is boss."

"Hmm." Elijah looks you up an down with a sad smile. "You look tired honey. You didn't find your vacation relaxing?"

"Oh it was paradise darling." You seethe, standing up from the floor. You refuse to back down from him.

If he's gonna do something he might as well do it. I'm sick of this tough guy mafia bullshit.

You could sense what was coming, it thrummed through your veins, and sent electrical impulses over every synapse of your body as you prepared for the coming fight. The fog was still hovering in your mind, but the adrenaline beat it back with a stick.

"Usually the cooler makes people more docile. I see it's made you more heated." He looks pleased, and makes a motion with his hand to Joe and the other man, who leave as soon as they see it. "Good. It’s always more fun that way anyway."

The energy in the room shifts for a moment as Elijah approaches you before he runs his large hand over the back of the high backed chair drawing your eye to the thick steel ring on his right fourth finger. It catches in the light of the fire, but you longer feel the warmth of the blaze. It’s worse now that it's the two of you alone, not to mention with Elijah being a supe and no plant in sight, your odds of getting out of this went from 50/50 to 40/60.

Fuck.

You fight the shudder that threatens to shake through you when you see the glint in Elijah's eye, hoping and praying that you have enough energy to take him down. Butcher had made you spar with him every chance you got so it wasn't that you weren't trained, it was that you could feel what little energy you had left draining from your body.

But that didn't mean you weren't going to back down.

"I'd be happy to show you just how wonderful it is to be locked in a freezer with no light. Just say the word." You take another step back eyes searching the room for something to use as a weapon.

"Tempting." His head tilts to the side. "But I can think of more fun things the two of us could do."

"Chess?" You gesture to the board on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"You could call it that." His smile turns more into a smirk.

Elijah flashes forward so fast your didn't see him move, knocking you backward onto the uncomfortable couch. One of his hands is fastened to your throat, the other pins your good arm above you head as his entire weight knocks the wind out of you. Nothing about his weight is comforting or is anything like how Ben laid on you the other night. It's oppressive and heavy, and the thick cloud of his cologne stings your nostrils as you gasp for breath. Everything in your body screams WRONG as you feel his hand squeeze down on your throat so tight you’re sure that it's leaving a mark.

His lips bite against yours, teeth cutting through the thinly chapped and flaky skin. You scream into his mouth and bite down hard until you taste blood wiggling beneath his weight. Elijah roars, the sound of his crescendo vibrating through your body and he backhands you so savagely you see stars.

"You'll pay for that." His eyes are wide and dark like two soulless pits that wish to drag you under and his teeth are bared in a snarl more animal than human. It reminds you of a rabid dog that rips and tears in a savage rage.

Your eyes drop to his mouth.

Is that what I think it is?

The pull is there, small, just barely a throb, but it's there, because between Elijah's two front teeth is your salvation.

"You really should floss more." You spit into his face, feeling your eyes shift to green focusing on the poppy seed caught beneath his gums. You assume he ate a bagel earlier and forgot all about it, but you don't give yourself time to speculate on exactly why it's there, only that it's your chance.

"What are you-"

Elijah doesn't finish his sentence, instead he gags as the stalks and roots begin to pour from his mouth. Poppies bloom from the outstretched stems that hang daintily past his full lips. He coughs and stumbles back from you, blood dripping around the flowers, as the roots begin to thread themselves into the soft skin on the inside of his mouth and twist and tangle down his throat.

Elijah's screams are muffled into the buds and leaves that sprout from his open mouth, eyes wide and staring at you with a mixture of horror and pure hatred. The vessels in his face burst until the blood flows from his eyes and skin freely and the roots breach through bone, vein, and flesh as if searching for earth outside of his body. The plants suck every nutrient they can from what you've given them, breaking Elijah's body down into what they can and cannot use.

The flowers do not hear his screams, the petals do not show remorse and the gentle bend of each bud before it blooms is not sinister, but beneath your hands they are deadly.

Turning someone into a tree you'd never done, sure you'd threatened it, but you’d never done it. You'd locked Newton your ex-boyfriend into a tree years ago, but that wasn't a transformation or a death, that involved the tree cocooning him inside, but it was nothing like this. You stand from the couch watching Elijah writhe in pain and confusion, trying to stop the plants that continue to feast on him.

His hands grasp at his face, ripping away the flowers that sprout from his lips, but he tears away pieces of flesh loosened by the roots away from his skull until chunks of muscle and tissue are mushed into the rug at his feet. There's a terrible snapping sound as the roots continue to expand outward and the flowers stems and stalks continue to unfurl beneath his skin, shattering through bone. Elijah's hands scramble down his chest, tearing away his shirt, the scream in his lungs lost to the crimson blooms that block air from coming in to his chest. He claws at his skin, falling to his knees, the inky black of the tattoos that cover his chest vanishing beneath the roots and stalks the peel away from his flesh and burst from his ribcage, the poppies the final bouquet laid on the casket.

And as you stand there, your un-ruined arm outstretched towards him, feeling the healing ebb and flow of energy from the poppies strengthening you momentarily, you have no remorse. Elijah Black is the first man you've ever essentially killed outright with your powers and yet you feel nothing. The men on the street the night that Ben saved you would have done the same thing to you, you'd spared their lives, but this time you didn't spare his.

He makes one more attempt to scream, the blood from his chest spurting upwards in an arch and splashing against your body, but then he falls silent. The poppies spreading along the plush rug at your feet covering his body, burying it beneath their beautiful petals, smiling at you.

He deserved this.

The little voice at the back of your mind whispers and the feeling of him on top of you comes roaring back, sending revulsion through your body. You didn’t want to think about what almost happened, what would have happened if he hadn't eaten the bagel.

You stoop down to pick one of the flowers before you lay it against your right wrist and manipulate the vines and roots to form a make-shift sling for your broken arm. The exhaustion was back, tugging at your body, but this time you ignore it, knowing that you had a long way to go before you earned your freedom.

At least now my arm is stabilized. You think to yourself. How the hell am I going to get out of here?

"Hey boss are you done yet-" Joe says as he enters the room, but he stops mid-sentence. His eyes trace your body again, but not in the lewd way he'd done earlier, instead you see horror flash in his gaze when he sees the blood flecked across your cheeks and the bits of flesh and muscle that sit in clumps, smashed into the plush rug at your feet.

You feel your eyes shift to green once more, the poppies that cover Elijah's body begin to stir as if an unnatural wind has begun to wisp into the room. "You should have been more worried about getting on my good side Joe, because the flowers might be pretty, but you won't enjoy them as much as they'll enjoy you."

He tries to draw his gun, but it's too late. They'll be nothing left of him or anyone who stands in your way.

Soldier Boy POV

Blood stained Ben's ungloved hands, soaked into his supe suit, and splashed across his cheeks, but he didn’t care. He would bathe in it every day until he found you if that's what it took.

He didn't understand why he felt this way, felt unsure and antsy at the thought of you being trapped somewhere, but he did, and it was almost too much to bear. With each passing hour on the long drive from Boston to New York, Ben could feel himself slipping further and further into a feeling that he couldn't place, a feeling that he'd never felt before in his entire life. His hands had curled into fists where they rested on his thighs with each mile that the car inched closer to you and to whoever the fuck had hurt you. He hadn’t spoken since he threatened Butcher at the motel, well, except for the occasional "Can you drive any fucking faster?" he shouted at Butcher every few minutes.

Even Annie seemed unnaturally quiet where she sat beside Ben in the backseat, her hand clasped tightly in Hughie's. She had been upset since she figured out what Darren had done and Hughie was trying to comfort her. Hughie had his arm wrapped around her shoulders and was whispering gentle things into her ear while she leaned into his chest and hugged him.

It annoyed Ben.

In the past Ben would have mocked a man for doing that, would have made an offhand comment about the man being pussy whipped, but as Ben sat there and listened to Hughie try his best to bring Annie some peace, Ben couldn’t help but remember the night you had a nightmare.

The scream you'd let loose was what jolted him into consciousness. He'd never heard you scream like that before. In that moment he hadn't cared about what you'd said about him not going in your bedroom, all he knew was that he had to be in there and he had to make sure you were okay. When he'd found you sitting on your bed crying and gasping for breath he hadn't wanted to leave you, for the first time in his life Ben had wanted to do exactly what Hughie was doing for Annie. Ben didn't know the first thing about how to do that, but he'd wanted to sit there with you until you calmed down.

He'd never done that for anyone before. Countess had been distressed once because she'd lost an earring her mother gave her, but Ben had just told her to "get the fuck over it."

You were different and as much as Ben hated to admit it to himself, he was starting to realize that as well. He just didn't know why.

When Butcher finally crashed his car through the front gate that surrounded the warehouse Ben jumped from it while it was still in motion, leaving the rest of them to squawk and squabble over a plan like a bunch of fucking chickens.

Ben had a plan, save you. He didn't need to hear Butcher come up with a plan of action when Ben was a man of action.

"Where is she?" Ben snarls to the man he's pinned to the wall of the cool concrete hallway, his voice shaking the foundations of the building.

The dim lightbulbs that line the hallway flicker and flash a yellowed light that curves cruelly over the sharp edges of Ben's face, but he does not back down from the man he has pushed against the wall. The bodies of the other men who stood in Ben's way lay in a trail of blood and bone behind, and the man in his arms would join the fray for wasting his time.

"Go to hell." The man spits in Ben's face.

"You'll go first." Ben says in a murderous growl as he pulls apart the body easily as if the man is made of tissue paper, the sound of the man's screams no more than a memory as they ring down the desolate hallways.

Ben trudges on through the dim light with the sticky smell of blood following behind him. He was hoping that he wasn't too late. Sometimes he forgot how fragile other people were, how easy it was for an accident to occur and for someone like you to get hurt or killed, but Ben didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to consider that possibility.

It's only been 4 days. Ben's jaw clenches together. It would have been no days if she had just fucking listened to me!

Ben frowns. Or it would have been no days if I had followed her.

Ben didn't know why he felt guilty, just that he didn't like it. A part of him kept flashing back to the years he spent in Russia, when he hoped that Countess would come get him, when he thought she loved him as much as he loved her, and when in reality it was her that put him there.

After that happened Ben had decided that it was stupid and unmanly to care about anyone, to love anyone, because it only fucked everything up. But Ben didn't want you to go through what he had. You were so different than he was, softer, kind, and way too trusting. Sometimes he didn’t like that you were doing this kind of work. It didn’t seem like you. When he saw you in the plant shop working it was different, you seemed to be in you element.

But he didn't want you to think that no one was coming to save you, because he was and like hell he was going to let anyone stand in his way.

This is taking too long.

The hallways were twisting and turning and Ben hadn’t seen another soul in at least two minutes. He listens with his hearing hoping to hear you talking or someone talking about you, but he doesn’t all he hears is a heart beat. It's faint, but it's there. The room where it comes from is torn to bits, chairs are laying on their sides stuffing falling out onto the blood stained carpet and covered in a field of red poppies, the smell of blood is thick in the air, and the bodies that lay on the ground are cleaved open with the plants tangling in the organs within, spilling out onto the floor.

Truthfully, Ben hadn't thought that your powers could look like this. Sure, you would make an offhand comment about turning him into a tree or shoving a watermelon up his ass, but he didn’t actually think that you would ever do it. Again, Ben didn’t see this side of you very often. He did piss you off and annoy you, but Ben didn’t actually think you’d ever try to attack him.

Not to mention that Ben thought that being able to make flowers grow seemed like a woman's power, and truthfully he liked watching you walk to work and place your hand on a bouquet or a small cluster of flowering plants to make them perk up, or watch you move around the apartment and see how the plants seemed to turn towards you, but this was surprising. He didn’t think that you could do something like that to someone's body and he wasn't disgusted, in fact he was a little impressed.

Ben raises his gaze from the bodies to see you.

You're on the ground, curled into a ball to protect your right arm that's also covered in poppies, but Ben can tell that it's broken, by how swollen it is.

Your breath is coming in shallow gasps and you heart beats faintly. You're covered in so much blood that Ben is worried that he's too late.

"Petals?" Ben drops to his knees beside where you lay, gingerly picking you up off the ground so that your left arm is resting against his chest. "Petals?" Ben says again, his heart seizing in his chest, throat thick. His hand gently pushes back the hair that sticks to your bloodied cheeks as he checks you over for wounds. Ben feels his jaw tighten when he see the bruising handprint around your throat, the blaze of heat from his anger coming back when he realized that someone had touched you.

"Come on Petals wake up." Ben murmurs, as he brushes your hair back. The strands are dry and brittle against his fingertips. "Come on sweetheart, say something annoying."

"Ben?" He hears you murmur, it’s more of a shallow breath than his name, but it’s something.

Ben exhales the breath he didn’t know that he was holding. "Yeah it's me."

"You came." You whisper and turn your head into his chest, weakly pressing your fingertips over his heart the motion making something stutter inside of him.

Your skin is flushed, veins shimmering beneath, body colder than Ben has ever felt it and he can see the flecks of skin that flake from your lips. Ben’s gaze falls on the mark over your right cheekbone that has already begun to bruise and drop back down to the handprint around your throat. Ben feels the tendrils of his rage beginning to spill over into the cavity in his chest screaming for blood. Ben's eyes flick to the bodies in the room momentarily hoping that they suffered for what they did to you and regrets not getting here sooner to make them suffer for touching you.

"Of course I came Petals." Ben replies his rough hand gently tracing along your cheek. "Did you think I was gonna leave you behind?"

"Thought you were mad." You breathe not opening your eyes. "I'm sorry for-" Your voice breaks as if it’s too much effort to finish the sentence, but he understands what you're about to say.

The feeling in Ben’s chest is not unfamiliar. It was the one he’d felt when he was in Russia every day, the loneliness that drove him mad.

Ben wonders if that's all you’d thought of the past four days. If you really believed that he wasn't going to come save you because you'd yelled at him and said what you did.

What I said wasn't better.

He remembered shouting at Darren that he didn’t care and he felt a twinge deep down when he realized that you must have been thinking that he was going to leave you in all this shit because of it.

"You can make it up to me later sweetheart." Ben stands with you close to his chest, but accidentally jostles your broken arm.

You whimper in pain and Ben freezes, adjusting his left arm under your knees and his right around your waist to secure you to his chest. "Shh it’s okay. I'm going to get you out of here." He reassures and takes a moment to press a kiss to the top of your head at your hairline where your head is turned into him. Ben clenches his jaw together and swallows. He hadn't meant to do that and didn't know why he did, just that he didn’t have the ability to touch your face with his hand and it seemed like the next best thing.

His mind flashes back to Hughie in the car with Annie, the things that Hughie said to her the way Hughie held her close and kissed her head to make sure she knew he was there.

"Okay." You breathe, cuddling further into his chest and pressing your face into his collar bone with a soft sigh as if you don’t know what he did.

Ben was glad, because the last thing he wanted was for you to accuse him of coping a feel when you weren't up to snuff.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Reader POV

A rhythmic beeping noise lulls you from sleep as you sigh softly, but you don't open your eyes. It feels like you’re swimming through tar, as if your limbs are being bound to the soft bed beneath you with cement. Everything hurts and yet you're here and you're alive.

Well, I think I’m alive.

You blink your eyes open, squinting in the oppressive unbroken sunlight that bathes the entire room in a brilliant glow from the un-curtained windows to the left of the bed you're laying in. The room is white, a blank slate,  and unfamiliar. There’s teal couch underneath the large left window and a small cabinet pressed into the corner between the couch and the opposite wall, a tv mounted on the wall across from the bed and a large pale blue curtain hanging to the right of your bed behind a collection of monitors that beep and squabble with one another. The room would be unremarkable if not for the plants.

There are buckets of monstera that unfurl leaves as big as your face jammed into the corners of the room and tangles of jasmine hanging from the top of the cabinet. Cacti line the windowsill absorbing the healing light from the sun, while a cart of honeysuckle, lavender, rose, and more flowering plants than you can name sits at the end of your hospital bed. The smell of gardenia is strong, floating lightly through the air to kiss you on the tip of your nose and you look to your left at the small bedside table to notice the gardenia plant you had on your bedside table back at you apartment blossoming in the warmth of the room.

Bouquets of flowers are shoved onto all other possible surfaces, some big some small, but all of them colorful and beautiful to look at. The healing energy of the plants is everywhere, absorbing into your body and strengthening you, the sweet smells of the flowers masking the stale clean smell of the hospital, and making you feel at home for the first time since you left your apartment with Darren.

Your eyes shift to the teal couch under the window and see that it's not empty, Ben is laying there on his back, his arms crossed over his dark t-shirt, sound asleep. His soft snores a comfort over the sounds of the beeping monitors so close to your bed.

The memories of what happened however long ago come back muffled and slurred through the haze of the drugs the doctors have given you, but you remember the final ones you had before you fell into the abyss.

You remember feeling Ben pick you up and hold you close to him, begging you to answer him, while the warmth of his body was like a soothing soak in a hot bath after a cold day. All you could do was cling to him and try to get as close as you could to absorb some of the heat. You didn’t believe that he would come for you and he did.

Tears glaze your eyes while you watch him sleep, all the sharp edges of his face smoothed in his slumber, all the frown lines you knew all too well no longer there while he slept. He looked different like this, peaceful.

You could feel your heart warming to think that Ben actually did care about you and that was why he came to get you.

"You’re awake." A familiar voice says.

Diana Moore, your grandmother, looks cheerfully at you from the teal rocking chair to the right of the bed, working on a purple knit blanket in her lap.

"Gran?" You clear your throat as you adjust yourself to sit up. "What are you doing here?"

She stands and nears the bed, tucking the granny square blanket she must have covered you with, further under you as she does. "Annie called and said you were hurt in some sort of accident." Your grandmother frowns. "And when I got here she told me what happened."

"Everything?" You say with a grimace.

"Most of it." Her frown deepens around the edges of her mouth. "But it was easy to fill in when she mentioned Darren."

Your grandmother knew everything about your life, there were no secrets between the two of you, and as much as she discouraged you working with Butcher, she pretended that she didn't care. Despite you being a supe, she always seemed to want to keep you away from the hero lifestyle. That was always odd to you, especially when you saw how proud Annie’s mother was of her abilities. Your grandmother although supportive of your abilities, never wanted you to become a hero. Whenever you’d ask her why she’d always say that “the grass looks greener on the other side.” It wasn’t an answer, but you never pushed her for one.

"I'm-"

"What your brother did is not your fault, and if the next words out of your mouth are an apology I will pack up everything you own and make you move back home." She raises an eyebrow.

It was an empty threat, you loved being in Illinois with her and you both knew it, but you let it slide.

Your grandmother looks the same way she did as when you first went to live with her when you were twelve. Not to mention for someone who was just over eighty years old, she looked pretty good. Whenever someone mentioned that to her she’d only say that “time had been good to her.”

Her gray hair is wavy and pinned back away from her face in an elegant twist that makes her look classic and poised. Her clothes are stylish, clean blue-jeans with a floral blouse that is covered by a thin cream colored sweater she knitted herself and a pair of black flats.

She was the reason you started knitting and crocheting. The love she instilled into each handmade item she delivered to her neighbors, made you love your grandmother's gentle spirit all the more. She'd always been like that, a shoulder to cry on, the person who always baked and filled the house with warmth, the person who took care of her neighbors when they were ill and made sure that they were well fed, and all the people back home loved her almost as much as you did.

She became the mother you’d lost and you didn’t realize how much you’d missed her until this exact moment.

Tears burn against your eyes as the events of the past few days surge up in a lump at the back of your throat. The memories of Elijah said and did, the freezer, the deaths, and the betrayal from your brother all too much to bear.

"Oh sweetie." Your grandmother whispers gently sitting on the edge of the bed and lets you hug her. You cry into her shoulder, holding her tight, the smell of her perfume familiar. "It's okay." She rubs your back. "Let it all out."

You do. It's the hardest you'd cried in weeks, but she sits there with you and continues to hold you close to her the way she'd done since you were twelve.

"Better?" She cups your cheek, her blue eyes tracing your face. They were the same as your father's and it made you miss him more.

"Yeah." You sniffle.

"Good. I brought you some fudge."

"What?"

"And some meat-pies and I stopped by your apartment and put a few frozen lassagna's in there for later. You look thin. Have you been eating?"

"Yes I have." You roll your eyes, but smile, because even when you thought you were all grown up she was trying to take care of you.

"Hmm." She presses her lips into a tight line looking you up and down.

"Fine, sometimes I skip a meal." You admit.

"You shouldn't. Especially with how often you use your powers." She squeezes your left hand because your right one was now in a bright green colored cast.

You wonder if they chose that color randomly or if Annie told them to pick that.

"I know Gran. Where's Annie?" You ask. It kind of hurt that she wasn't here when you woke up, but you couldn't fight the happy feeling knowing that Ben was here. That one also hurt a little bit, especially when it filled you with the hope that Ben wanted to have a relationship when you knew he didn't.

"She just went to get some dinner with Hughie. He's a nice boy, good manners. A lot like your boyfriend." She gestures over to the couch where Ben is snoring.

Ben having good manners? She's kidding right?

"He's not my boyfriend-"

"No?" Your grandmother gives you a knowing look. "He sure seems like it."

"He's my roommate. And well-" You bite the inside of your cheek feeling your cheeks flush bright red in embarrassment. "I think we're friends."

I mean he carried me out of the warehouse that's gotta be a friend thing right?

"He hasn’t left that couch since I got here. Not to mention he keeps harassing the doctor whenever he comes in, keeps asking him when you're going to wake up. Made one of the nurses cry-“

"He what?"

"You didn't tell me you knew Soldier Boy."

You pause looking up at your grandmother. "What?"

"He's Soldier Boy." She says it matter of fact.

"How did you-"

"He looks just like him." Your grandmother examines Ben's sleeping face again. "Plus I met him a few times before, but that was a long time ago."

Your mouth drops open. "You met Soldier Boy. When?"

"Story for another time dear."

"Oh please tell me that you didn’t go out with him." Sometimes you forgot how old Ben was and the thought that he and your grandmother had a thing made you feel nauseous.

I swear if Ben and my grandmother fucked or made out I am going to go crazy and I'm taking him down with me.

"No of course not." Her cheeks flush. "I was dating your grandfather when we met."

"Oh."

I guess that's a little better, but still weird.

"But he was certainly trying his best." She snorts.

"Please no more." You cringe back from her trying not to imagine Ben hitting on your grandmother.

"I'm just teasing sweetie." She kisses you on the forehead with a smile. "Not really."

"Oh my sweet goodness, please do not tell me anything else." You groan blocking out the mental images of Ben with your grandmother.

She sits back down in her chair with her knitting smiling to herself, the subtle scrape of the needles together reminded you of the quiet nights the two of you spent back home sitting in the living room and watching TV.

Guess I won't be able to crochet for a while with this thing. You frown at the cast on your right arm more disappointed at the prospect of not being able to crochet than what had happened to you.

"He was with Crimson Countess anyway." Your grandmother rolls her eyes when she says her name.

"Wait a minute, you knew Ben when he was with Countess?"

How in the fuck did I not know this? Why didn’t she tell me that she knew famous supes? Why did she know them?

She nods not looking up from the purple mass in her lap. "She was a real piece of work, very callous, and uncaring whenever the cameras weren't flashing." You watch her eyes slide to where Ben is laying. "I always hated the way she seemed to treat him. She was manipulative, very good at getting whatever she wanted. She was possessive when it came to Ben, fiercely jealous of anyone who got near him. Weird given the relationship they had" The thought makes her frown and for a moment you see something slide across your grandmother's face that was unlike the woman who'd raised you.

"But why were you around them in the first place?" You ask her.

Your grandmother had never said that she was around supes, never said that she was a part of any of that. All you knew was that she met your grandfather who was a retired veteran turned doctor and settled down in Illinois so he could open a private practice, but to know that she knew Ben was making your head spin.

"Another time. You need rest."

"But-"

"Please sweetie. I don't want to talk about the past right now. Not when you need to sleep."

“But-“

She looks up at you with the same matronly look she always had when she told you to go to bed and you were being unruly.

“Okay.”

The doctor walks into the room, his smile brightening when he notices that you're awake. "Hello, I'm Dr. Martinez. How are you feeling today?"

"Good I guess." Your eyes were still focused on your grandmother who has begun to knit innocently as if the last few things that she'd mentioned hadn't happened.

"Well it’s reassuring that you're awake." His eyes skate to where Ben is sleeping and you see just a glimmer of fear behind them. "We were all eagerly hoping that you would wake up soon-"

Did he threaten the doctor with bodily harm? Because that feels very Ben-like.

"How long have I been asleep?" You ask taking a sip from the cup of ice water on your tray.

"Three days."

"Three what-" You shriek, spewing water all over the bed.

Ben jolts upwards from sleep to his feet, looking around the room with narrowed eyes like he believes that someone is in the room about to attack you.

"Ben it's okay." You say with a cough to clear the water that came out your nose. Ben's gaze flicks to where you're laying in the bed.

You weren't prepared to see the tension leave his shoulders and to see relief flash through his eyes, before they harden once more to his usual expression.

Was he worried about me? I mean my grandmother said that he hasn't left the couch and that he's been harassing the doctors…

"Yes." Dr. Martinez looks at where Ben is now standing over your bed, but Ben hasn't looked away from you. In fact you see his eyes shift over your face, down to your throat, then to the cast on your right arm and see his frown grow by the minute.

"Sorry I wasn't ready for that." You clear your throat with a forced smile.

"It's alright. But the good news is you're awake-"

"No shit sherlock." Ben snarks. "Did your big fancy degree tell you that?"

“Sir-“ Dr. Martinez starts, but Ben interrupts him.

“Because-“ Ben begins to say something else but you reach out and touch his arm with your left hand before you can stop yourself. His gaze focuses back on you.

“Ben, it’s okay. I’m okay. Let him talk.” You squeeze his warm forearm to reassure him.

His green eyes flick back to your face, something flashing through his eyes that looks very different than the man you usually saw. He doesn't apologize, but he nods his head in the direction of the doctor to let him know that he could continue. Ben also doesn't move your hand from his forearm, in fact, he steps a little closer to you.

You miss the smile your grandmother hides behind her hand when she sees Ben’s reaction.

"As I said you're awake and it looks like you're doing much better now that we've given you fluids. You were dehydrated when you came in and had a touch of hyperthermia which is unusual given how warm it's been lately." Dr. Martinez gestures to the sunny day outside. "Your right arm is broken, but we set it and it should be about 6 weeks until you're fully healed. As for the black eye and the-" The doctor clears his throat, eyes looking to Ben for a moment. "Marks around your neck, those should be gone within a few weeks or so."

Does he think Ben did this to me?

The thought makes you angry. As mad as Ben had gotten at you in the past, you didn’t believe that he would ever hurt you. Sure he'd hurt you the first day you'd met, but you weren't afraid of him, you couldn’t be. Even when his temper flared you didn't fear that he would hurt you. Yeah he had a bad temper, but Ben always seemed to stomp away when you pissed him off, not attack you.

"And how long do I have to stay here?"

"Well, now that you're awake I want to keep you one more night for observation and do blood work again, but I'm not worried about sending you home." Dr. Martinez looks at Ben again before he looks at you. "Unless you want to stay longer?"

"What the fuck are you trying to say doc?" Ben growls, realizing exactly what the doctor is insinuating.

Your hand skates down Ben’s arm and entwines with his fingertips. Ben looks at it surprised.  “I'd like to go home with Ben as soon as possible." You say it to the doctor with a frown, not liking what the doctor is trying to say, but then you realize exactly how it sounds.

It wasn't a lie, you wanted to go home with Ben, wanted to go back to your everyday life and forget that all of this happened. You didn't mean to hold his hand, but it just seemed like the only way to get your point across.

"Alrighty then. I'll just have the nurse come in and take a little more blood." The doctor replies and backs quickly out of the room, casting one more look at Ben.

The three of you sit there for a moment in the silence that follows, Ben's eyes still on you, your hand still holding on to his. You quickly let go.

“I'm going to go down to the cafeteria before it closes. Do you want anything Ben?"

"No thanks Di. I'm good." He replies rubbing the back of his neck as if he's unsure what comes next.

"Di?" You turn to look at your grandmother with a frown.

"Do you want something sweetie?" She doesn’t look phased at Ben's use of the nickname.

"No I'm fine Di." You emphasize the nickname, but she doesn’t react.

"I'll bring you back some tea. That always seems to help you relax." She winks and places the mass of purple yarn onto the chair before she leaves the room with an elegant flourish.

The silence grows.

"Please tell me that you didn't fuck my grandmother. Because that wasn't on my bingo card this year and I really don’t want to have nightmares about the two of you."

Ben snorts. "Jealous Petals?"

"Oh fuck, just get out of here." You cover your eyes with your hand. "I can't even look at you right now. You're such a slut Gramps."

Ben only laughs at you and sits down on the side of your bed. His fingers gently pull your hand away from your face so he can look at you again.

"I didn't fuck your grandmother. We knew each other forever ago." He's still holding on to your wrist, his thumb smoothing against the soft skin on the inside of you arm. "But I will say that she is just as beautiful now as she was then. Really aged like fine wine-“

"You're not making this better."

"You look a lot like her." Ben says quietly.

Did he just call me beautiful?

You sit there for another minute, eyes focused on where Ben is holding your wrist. “I’m really sorry for what I said about Homelander and your team. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You already apologized.”

“When?”

“When I found you.” His jaw tightens at the memory. “You apologized.”

“Oh.”

“Are you-“ He clears his throat, eyes raising from your wrist to look at you. “Are you feeling better?” You watch his eyes trace the bruises around your neck, the black eye, and the cast again.

And for a moment he almost looks guilty.

Why is he guilty?

“Yeah. All the plants are really helping. It always makes me feel better to be surrounded by so many.” You smile at him, but Ben doesn’t return it.

“Plant boy brought them by.” Ben grunts. “You probably should call him. He was fawning all over you like a fucking pussy, thought he was going to cry.”

You thought that was ironic given that your grandmother had just told you that Ben hadn’t left the couch since you were brought in, but you didn’t want to tease him about that. Not now anyway.

You look at the gardenia on the small bedside table, the one you know that’s from home. “Not that one.” You glance back at Ben.

“No. I told Annie to bring that one.” Ben says as if it’s difficult for him. “I figured if it was on your bedside table in your room it must be important.”

“It’s my favorite. Thank you.” You squeeze his hand with your good one. “Really Ben, thank you for everything.” 

“Sure.”

Ben isn’t really holding your hand, your left is laying on its back cradled in his right where his thumb continues to rub along the thin skin of the inside as if he wants to trace along the veins.

“How long was I with Elijah?”

“Four days.” Ben grits his teeth together.

It was a surprise to hear how long you’d been there aloud, but a part of you knew in your heart how long it had been. 

“That feels about right.”

“I should have come sooner.”‘Ben murmurs it more to himself than to you. “I shouldn’t have let you go-“

“You tried to stop me remember? I should have listened to you instead of insulting you. I just-“ The tears were coming back. “I wanted to believe Darren. He’s my brother I thought-“ Your voice breaks. “And then Elijah-“

The memories of everything that happened were coming back tenfold now, worse then they had when your grandmother was there. The monitors to the right of the bed are beeping frantically now as your heart rate begins to spike and you begin to sob.

“Fuck.” Ben says under his breath. “Look Petals it’s okay. It’s alright-“

“No it’s not. My brother sold me to Elijah because he had fucking poker debt and Elijah wanted me to fix all those fucked up plants and then he-“  Your can't finish the sentence. You pull your hand from Ben's grasp to rub at your eyes, trying to make the tears stop but they don't. Memories of Elijah holding you down against the couch come surging up followed by the anxiety ridden question "What if?"

Ben's entire body goes stiff. "What did he do?"

You level your gaze at your left hand where it lays in your lap not wanting to answer. Ben's hand comes to cup your chin raising your eyes back to his. His green eyes have hardened, a murderous fire burning behind them that makes you worry about anyone who would ever get in his way. You'd never seen him so mad before, not even at you when you pissed him off.

"What did he do?" Ben says again in a low growl.

"He broke my arm-" You swallow the sob. "And then he put me in a freezer for a few days and when he took me out he tried to-" The memory of his oppressive weight and expensive cologne fills your nose, followed by the feeling of his hand fastened around your throat.

"He touched you?" Ben spits.

"I stopped him." You say in a whisper.

"How?"

"He had a poppy seed in his teeth."

The look in Ben's eyes shifts to surprise. "Really?"

You nod with a sniffle as another round of fresh tears comes out of your eyes.

"I saw the aftermath of it." Ben sighs retracting his hand from your chin. "Didn't think you could do something like that."

"Me neither. Guess it was a "desperate times desperate measures" sort of situation." You swipe the back your hand across your eyes. "But I really do want to go home, forget any of this happened-" Your voice cracks a little.

Ben's hand comes down on your shoulder in an awkward patting motion. "It's okay, Petals."

It enough to make you cough out a laugh. "What are you doing?"

"I don't fucking know. I just-" He drops his hand from your shoulder looking angry. "I don't like it when you cry." Ben says it more to himself than to you, as if he's ashamed he admitted it.

The admission makes something flicker to life in the center of your chest, a pilot light to some furnace that you'd blown out a long time ago.

"And I don’t fucking know what to do when women cry! Because y'all are always so damn emotional and-" He continues looking frustrated.

When you pull him into a hug, Ben stops mid-sentence. It's difficult with one arm, but you try your best. It's the first one the two of you have ever shared, given how much Ben hated showing affection that made sense, but you wanted to hug him. He had saved your life and maybe you could be friends despite everything else.

And you wanted to hug you because even though it made Ben uncomfortable, he had tried to comfort you. You weren't sure why, all you knew was that it made you smile.

Ben doesn't move, he goes completely tense in your arms, not accustomed to this and unsure what to do next. A part of you thought it was kind of cute how awkward he was when it came to something like this, but another part felt bad for him. You liked hugging people and were accustomed to doing just that, but it hurt you to think that Ben hadn't had any experience with someone giving him a hug that wasn't attached to anything else.

"Thank you, Ben." You whisper, pressing your face into his t-shirt. The smell of his spicy cologne burns your nose in the best way, the feeling of his warmth taking away the residual chill you feel when you think of the memories from a few days ago.

This is better than I remember.

You think, remembering how it felt to wake up in his arms and feel how his body molded around yours as if he was made for you.

"You're welcome, Petals." He says tightly, the pleasant rumble of his words vibrating against your cheek. He's not hugging you back, but you didn't expect him to. Not when he was awkward when it came to things like this.

You pull back from him, wiping your eyes again with the back of your hand. The longer you sit there together, the longer the silence grows between the two of you, but it's not uncomfortable. It's filled with an energy that you can't describe, hovering in the space, alive and charged.

Ben slowly raises his hand to your face, brushing back a strand of your hair with a surprising gentleness, the roughness of his hand is a comfort and you weren't prepared for how his touch burns against your skin.

“Did you really think I’d leave you there?” Ben murmurs, his eyes are a light green in the sunlight, like the budding grass on a summer day.

“You were mad at me. I-“ You look down at your lap.

“So?" Ben raises your chin with his hand.  "I said some shit too."

It wasn't an apology, but you were sure it was as close as he was going to get. What was weirding you out a bit was how often he was touching you and how gently. Not that you thought he would hurt you, just that he'd never tried to be this open to touch before. 

“Yeah, but it’s different. You might have pissed me off but I would have come to get you anyway because I know how much what happened in Russia hurt you.” It was the truth. You wouldn't have let anyone stop you if you knew that Ben was trapped somewhere, even if the two of you had been in a fight. He was your friend, sort of anyway. And you took care of your friends.

Ben’s body tenses at the mention of Russia, the memories that flash through his eyes are not pleasant. “Then don’t you think I’d want to come get you if I understand how fucked up that is?”

You blink at him surprised. "I didn't think about that."

Ben smirks. "And I thought you knew everything Petals."

"Sorry to disappoint you."

"Never." His hand is still cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing just barely over your cheek.

Electricity charges through the air and you feel your lips begin to tingle. You want to kiss him so badly, to pull him close and allow yourself to finally fall into him. The memory of the two of you on the couch the other day resurfaces when he almost kissed you, when he looked so different than he usually did, when he looked at you differently in a way that you weren't sure what it meant, the same way he was looking at you right now. The gardenia plant on the bedside table explodes with fresh blooms and Ben glances over it with a chuckle. It was embarrassing that he knew your deepest darkest secret and it caused a flush to creep into your cheeks.

Ben smiles the same way he did the morning you were curled up against his chest on your couch. His thumb dips to brush along your bottom lip and you inhale in surprise. It seems to jar Ben back into reality.

"I'm going to go feed Bean." Ben drops his hand and stands from the bed, but he's still smiling at you the same way he was a few seconds ago. "I'll be back in an hour."

You try not to feel the loss of his skin against yours and try not to focus on how good it felt for him to touch you so tenderly.

"You don't have to come back." You begin to say, trying to make the flush fade. "It's only one more night and-"

"It's not that bad." Ben shrugs. "I mean my butt isn't as comfy on this couch as the one at home." He cracks another smile repeating what he said when you took him to IKEA, but then something flashes in his eyes. "Besides, the apartment's too quiet without your bitching. Rather be here and witness it first hand."

Is he trying to say that he misses me? No. There's no way that he'd ever admit that.

"Get out of here, you ass." You try to push him, but he catches your hand.

"Be careful Petals, you don’t want to break the only arm you have left."

"I'm gonna break my foot off in your ass if you don’t get out of here." You groan rolling your eyes.

"Didn't think you’d be into that, but I'd be willing to try whatever you want Petals. As long as I get you all to myself" Ben is still holding on to your hand. "Do you-" His smirk shifts into something softer and he swallows. "Want me to bring you anything from home?"

You imagine that his voice changes when he says the word "home." But you don't imagine the way it sticks in your chest when he does.

"No, I think I'm okay." You frown down at your cast mournfully. "I'm never going to be able to finish any of my crochet projects with this thing."

"Yes, because that's why most people are upset when they break an arm."

"I thought you'd know by now that I'm not like everyone else."

"Trust me I noticed." Ben chuckles with a smile that makes your heartbeat stutter.

"Don’t knock it til you try it Gramps. I thought you'd be old enough to appreciate the quality of handmade goods. Didn’t your generation still do that or whatever?"

Ben rolls his eyes, but then he squeezes your hand so quick you think that you imagined it. "I'll be back. Try not to give your grandmother a hard time while I'm gone."

"You think that me giving her a hard time will ruin your chances with her?" You snort.

"I already tried years ago." Ben shrugs. "Then again she might give me another chance. It's been a while"

"You couldn't handle me then Benjamin and you can't handle me now." Your grandmother says as she re-enters the room holding a steaming cup of tea for you and a cup for herself. "But hurry back. I want to beat you at poker one more time before I go back to Illinois."

"I let you win." Ben grouses.

"Whatever you say sweetie." She sits back down on the chair to resume knitting, but you catch a glimmer of her smile quirking the ends of her lips.

Ben only rolls his eyes and throws you one last look filled with an emotion that you can't place before he vanishes out the door. And you try not to think about how empty the room is when he's gone, how the hell he knows your grandmother, and why your heart was skipping like a kid frolicking in a field full of sunflowers.

A/N: I know Darren didn't get got in this chapter, but he is going to come back into play next chapter. But this one was definitely bloody... Kinda was horrified with the place my mind went when she was killing those men with those poppies, but I like to think that people really do underestimate what she can do because they think she "just makes the plants grow" when in reality it's more complicated and way more powerful than people think. And I know, a lot of more denial, but we are starting to see the walls beginning to crumble and the unraveling between the two of them as they both begin to come to terms with their feelings.

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love to hear what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for this series please let me know :)

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[holybibly]

IT'S YOU |Woosan x reader| Part II

Part I If you haven't read it

Genre: smut, from friends to lovers!au, college!au

Word Count: 9.4k

Summary: Sometimes drunken decisions lead to the most unexpected results and the most shocking confessions. Or, after your boyfriend cheats on you, you propose a threesome to your best friends and it might just be what they have always wanted.

WARNING: only!18+ unprotected sex, Dom!San, Dom!Wooyoung, Sub!Reader, fingering, choking, degrading, pet names, spit kink, manhandling, threesomes, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, overstimulation and more.

Tag list: @staytiny816 @woosmaid @jiminssluttyminx @liknws @pearltinyy @haebaragisworld @bts-iris @bleachpolaroid @wisejudgedragonhairdo @ginger-coffee-addict @pricessthings @rockstarsanie @lilmackiee @minaizum1 @shotahime @vixensss @meljoongiee @ivsjake4evr @love-me-a-little @seonghwaddict @onmykneesforateez @meeitany

A/N: Okay, we're here. I couldn't be more excited. Really, they've got a lot going on and I hope you're all ready because it's gonna be intense, hot and messy. Seriously, I really appreciate everyone's feedback and consideration for this series. It's become one of the most popular things I've written, but it put some pressure on me, because I'm worrying about whether the second part would please you. Well, I think we'll see.

Enjoy the chapter, even though it's practically nothing but smut.

The third and final part! takes us back to where it all began, but not without an emotional roller coaster ride. By the way, I wanted to point out that T/N doesn't remember what she promised them a year ago. So don't be surprised by the plot changes in this issue. In the finale, we're sure to get a hot threesome.

I'm still learning how to write smut, so please be gentle with me.

Besides, I can't help but talk about the results of the poll. The majority vote was for Alpha/Beta/Omega!au, and honestly, it's one of the ideas I'm most excited about, and I was hoping it would be the winner. I look forward to your comments. In general, feel free to write me about anything.

dividers by @cafekitsune

Much love, everyone.

Now. The morning after graduation.

It's a late, lazy morning when you wake from a deep and well-earned sleep. You blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the bright golden light flooding the room, which refracted through your bedroom's stained glass. It was beautiful and annoying at the same time, just as Hongjoong himself, who had inspired you to do this.

You should have shaded the windows last night before you went to sleep, but that was the last thing you thought of as lying in bed between the restless, wet San's and Wooyoung's bodies. You were more preoccupied with the touch of their rough hands on your heated body, the warmth of their breath on tender skin, and the sounds of their hoarse moaning right by your ear.

They were an absolute mess, slowly driving you crazy. Emotions raged in your stomach, making you feel guilty, embarrassed and… lustful. You practically dozed off at dawn, when the boys managed to calm down a bit and fall into a deep sleep.

The apartment is incredibly quiet; you can't hear a single sound, and only the soft sniffle on your neck, with the feeling of warm breath dancing across your bare skin, breaks this peaceful silence.

Wooyoung is still fast asleep, clutching you in his arms like a favorite teddy bear, his leg wrapped possessively around your thigh as it always has been. Even when he was asleep, he couldn't bring himself to let you go for a second.

You ran the palm of your hand over the sheet and felt nothing but the cold under your fingers. Sannie has been awake for a while now, and for a moment you're annoyed by this fact. You wish that he was still in bed with you, soft and gentle as he always was. So that the three of you could spend this special morning together. The graduation robes are scattered all over the room in a mess of things, and all you want to do is push them further and further into the wardrobe and forget about them forever. The dog days are finally over. You are now official free.

Sensual, full lips touch the sensitive spot on your neck, and the sensation sends shivers down your spine. The throat is suddenly dry, sweat begins to form on your neck from the abruptly increase in desire, and you close your eyes tightly, aware of every touch and breath coming from Wooyoung more clearly than before. It's as if your whole body is completely focused on him, reacting to every fleeting movement and every sound with even more eager devotion.

You're still too receptive from last night, and you need more space to try and keep all those dirty, depraved thoughts from taking over and you. You studiously ignore the slight shiver of excitement that is happily tickling your breasts and causing the muscles in your lower abdomen to ripple in a pleasant way. You bite your lip to keep yourself from groaning in frustration as the images and sensations of the night flash in front of your eyes. You need to stop right now. It's too bad, but it's too sweet.

You start to wriggle, trying to get away from Wooyoung, who is still sleeping, but he just pulls you closer to his chest, as if he wants to dissolve into your body completely, and you melt.

Wooyoung has always been so insatiable and greedy for any kind of physical contact that you can offer him, like an adorable little puppy, that you can just wag your finger at him and he'll come running to you. He always had "too much space between you"; it was important to him to hold you constantly, to touch soft skin with his fingertips, to leave butterfly kisses in every possible place, to knead your thighs and squeeze waist possessively, to pull you so close that there wasn't a centimetre between you. You were his darling, soft and sweet girl in all the right places, and he just couldn't help himself.

San used to tell him that he was being a bit greedy and that he needed to learn how to share you with others. After all, sharing meant caring, and you were also his chagi.

Yes, you wanted to be taken care of, and that frightened you to the depths of your most forbidden fantasies. You wanted to be nervous about them; you wanted them to use you as they pleased, to make you take everything they had to offer, even if it destroyed you completely.

Your desire for them was more than you should have as friends. And that feeling had only grown stronger over the past year.

But despite Wooyoung's obsession and possessiveness, his touch always soothed you. He gave you the comfort you needed whenever you felt the need. And in the end, his hands would always nudge you in the direction of San, so that he could have his own moment of sharing with you. You were their own personal cuddly toy, and that was fine with you, because there was no place in the world where you could feel more protected and cuddly than in their arms.

But at the moment, you wanted nothing more than to get away from his touch and calm down your excitement. You'd been so needy since last night, and Wooyoung had only added to your frustration.

He's shirtless, his skin warm and smooth, and you can be sure it's golden like caramel where the sun has licked it. Delicious. You can almost taste him on the tip of your tongue, and suddenly you're tempted to sink your teeth into him for a taste, but you just bite down harder on your lower lip and stifle a moan.

You need to stop being so intensely... aware of him.

Maybe you were still drunk from the last night; after all, you couldn't remember exactly how many shots of tequila you'd consumed before dragging Yunho into the ladies' room to start kissing passionately. And you found yourself in an even more suggestive position with Seonghwa after another round of colourful, unnamed cocktails.

From then on, every innocent act made you feel lustful and hungry for intimacy.

Was it karma or something? You weren't sure, but you were more inclined to think that it was the lack of passionate sex you hadn't been having for a year now. You hadn't been able to find anyone suitable for a long-term relationship after you'd broken up with Suho, and boys-toys hadn't given you any pleasure.

You wanted more than ten minutes of gasping under the covers with awkward fingers poking into the pussy. They were cum faster than you were able to get yourself aroused. Pathetic.

You needed to satisfy that hunger that was eating you from the inside out, that oppressive feeling of emptiness inside you that could only be filled by a big dick that you could choke on for the rest of your life. A thick and long one, with visibly bulging veins, that could really hit all the sensitive places inside you, causing you to have orgasm after orgasm. And having not one but two perfectly matched options handy hasn't made things any easier.

If you offered to suck them off, Wooyoung's dick would be in your mouth in no time. He was always a fireball, passionate, and impatient, and San…San liked to play with his food before getting down to business. You were in awe of how perfect their dynamic was with such different personalities.

You wanted to see how attractive they would be when a warm throat closed around their cocks, when their beautiful faces were contorted with intense pleasure, and when you heard them moan out your name.

Damn it.

It's moments like these that make you realize that moving in with Wooyoung and San was the best and worst decision you ever made. Unless you count buying a pair of designer jeans that make your butt a magnet for people's hands.

The time went by far too quickly for your liking. It was easy to get lost in the succession of school days, week after week, punctuated by movie nights, spontaneous outings and a seemingly endless stream of student parties. Everything in your life changes. From the big renovation of your apartment, which was Hongjoong's job - he was still over the loss of his favourite vintage sofa - to the move in of San and Wooyoung. Things started to move at an even faster pace the day the boys dragged their suitcases into the dark space of your ultra-modern living room, to a general "You should have done this a long time ago".

It was a spontaneous and hasty decision. But what could have gone wrong? It's always been the three of you, and you had no idea that sharing space would have any effect on your relationship. God, how wrong you were. They played cat and mouse with you, testing your mettle and your patience. The memory of that moment is still so vivid in your mind.

"Come on, chagi, try it; it's quite tasty." San brought a spoonful of the dark green liquid, which Wooyoung proudly called the best hangover soup in the world, to your lips.

Jung Wooyoung and his ego, of course.

"Go ahead, baby; be good and open your mouth. It'll make you feel good, I  promise." That last sentence was full of innuendo, and it didn't take a genius to see it. In fact, everything that came out of Wooyoung's mouth was absolute filth.

He was practically purring in your ear, touching your delicate skin with every word, and you swear you could feel the touch of his tongue on your earlobe. Oh, fuck. His hands slid down your shoulders, deftly kneading the muscles that had gone stiff, his thumbs sliding up the vertebrae of your neck, and he dug a little bit into the hair at the back of your neck. In that moment, you were ready to do anything for him, whatever he asked.

"That's my Chagia, so docile and sweet." San would continue to feed you slowly with a spoon, smiling sweetly at you as if it were the most pleasant thing in the world to do. From time to time, he would wipe away the drops of liquid that ran down your lips with his thumb, as if in a romantic drama. You were perfectly capable of doing it yourself. But San's meaningful raised eyebrow made it clear that it was better to let him take care of you without resistance. San's language of love had always been to serve, and he took every opportunity to remind you of that.

The silence around you was nice and cozy—you'd even say relaxing—especially since you could still feel the humming bass of last night's music in your head. And all in all, you weren't feeling your best. Hell, that shit you drank last night was strong. This went on for a few more minutes until the plate in front of you was empty and Woo's face was pressed against your cheek in a cute puppy way. 

"Woo, and I wanted to talk to you about something, Y/N," San began, his voice suddenly becoming so sweet. He took your hand gently, his thumb stroking your knuckles lazily. He obviously wanted something from you.

"Sure, I'm all ears."

"We'd like to move in with you, peach, what do you think?" Wooyoung was pecking at your cheek, acting like a real sweetheart, but you knew every one of his tactics to get what he wanted.

"You're not going to get it if Woo keeps licking my cheek."

"But, Peach…" He whined, pursing his puffy lips in a resentful manner. Okay, he was cute as hell, but you were never going to tell him that.

"Chagi." You turned your attention back to San, who looked like he was confessing his love to you: Are this hearts in his eyes? Or are you still drunk?

"Agreed, we are practically living here anyway; I even have my own toothbrush in the bathroom. It's just a formality." He was awfully proud of it, squaring his shoulders and imagining himself under your gaze.

"We want to take care of you, baby."

And this is where you should have told them to fuck off and forget the way to your apartment, change the locks, and give San his toothbrush back. But whether it was the soft and somehow loving look of San's cat eyes paired with deep, sweet dimples or Wooyoung's gentle hands that started to knead your shoulders again in a languidly seductive way, you nodded affirmatively.

They were right; you were all practically living together. The amount of their stuff in your flat was unreal—the T-shirts you slept in, the perfume bottles left everywhere, study notes, games, pajamas and scarves, Wooyoung's luxurious leather jackets, and San's books—you could start a collection, but their stuff was just as much yours. It was also the constant cause of your and Suho's fights; he was always jealous of you and them, completely unaware of the dynamic between the three of you. They'd been glued to your thigh for years, and the fact that you had a boyfriend wouldn't change that. Narrow-minded prick.

"I think you're right. Let's give it a go."

"My little darling." San gave a dazzling smile, showing off his dimples even more, and pressed your hand to his lips. God, Choi San was a real menace. It was hard to believe that this pretty cat in front of you was none other than the one who was caught many times having rough sex in the middle of the university library. Once, he was even caught in a threesome, but you didn't want to point the finger at Wooyoung for putting him up to it.

"Yeah, that's our girl." Wooyoung pressed his lips to your cheek once more, salivating as much as he could along the way.

"Jung Wooyoung!" You squealed, wiping the drool from your cheek in disgust, but Woo was already happily scurrying into the living room, laughing loudly.

"We'll look after you, chagi."

That was San's last sentence before he ran his tongue over your hand, licked his fingers like a cat, and ran after Woo with an evil giggle.

"Choi San, come back at once!"

You are going to have so much fun here. Too much fun for your own good.

"Mmm… Peach, you are already awake." The soft touch of plump lips on your shoulder means that Wooyoung has woken up and wants to have your full attention.

"It has been some time. But I don't want to go anywhere. How are you feeling? Last night, when we came home, you and San were really drunk.

Wooyoung hugs you even tighter, nestling his face between your shoulder blades and taking a deep breath of your scent. Your skin is tickled by the tips of his long hair. A light touch on your lower back sends a jolt up your spine, making you arch slightly in his arms. Wooyoung is always like this; his defiant and needy attitude shouldn't be anything unusual for you, so you should stop reacting to him like this.

"Thank you for looking after us, peach. You're always so nice. Sannie and I don't deserve you." He kisses your neck. This time the touch lingers a little longer, and a feeling of excitement rises in your chest. "We haven't caused you any trouble, have we, little girl?" He purrs as he rubs his nose up against your shoulder. You couldn't help but notice how San's habits have become Wooyoung's habits, and vice versa. Now you have to put up with all that twin feline energy.

You turn to face him, and even after a night of sleeping with his hair tousled and without his usual cheeky grin, Wooyoung still looks pretty damn good. He's comfortable, a little sleepy, but no less seductive than he ever was. Woo has always had this sensual aura about him. Underneath the overt sexuality and the bitchy attitude, there was something else—something dark and seductive. You want to kiss him right now, so badly. Your hand runs through his silky hair, letting it fall in soft waves on either side of his face. Dark strands that are long enough to be pulled through easily. The world's handsomest boy.

It's all too easy to fall in love with him.

He kisses your palm playfully and pokes his nose into it like a cat hungry for affection, and you don't mind his purring with pleasure.

You wonder what he's going to sound like when he cums, God, you need to help yourself.

"Let me think." You run your fingers through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp. It's a deceptively gentle gesture before you pull hard on the roots of his hair, causing him to cry out in surprise.

"Oh, babe, why?" He purses his lips in offense, hoping you'll fall for his cute look. But you've known Wooyoung for years, and judging by the mischievous gleam in his eyes, he knew exactly what he was getting at.

"Firstly, you robbed me of my chance for great sex with your whining and dragging me home. Secondly, you behaved horribly when I tried to persuade you to take a shower and you kept me awake until the morning by clinging to me and fidgeting on the bed. Today I demand the royal treatment because you really messed up last night. This was not part of my plan for the prom at all."

Woo smiles back wickedly, practically baring his teeth in a wolfish grin.

"Peaches, are you really such a needy girl? Well, what are we going to do about it? San and I will have to do our best to make it up to you." He suddenly turns you over so that you are lying on your back, sandwiched between the mattress and his lithe body. Wooyoung is hovering over you, his hair falling all over your face, and you can't help but notice how sexy he looks in this position, which is annoying the hell out of you. He doesn't even have to try very hard to send you over the edge.

Strong hands are resting on the sides of your head, letting you enjoy the sight of the seductively bulging veins that run down his forearms. Fuck, you've always had a weakness for his hands, and who wouldn't when they look like this? Woo leans his head towards you until your noses touch, like a predator cornering his prey.

"Baby, I have my doubts that you'll be satisfied with anyone, so don't sulk. And you know Sannie and I will have to approve of someone running their fingers down your knickers." He smiles broadly at you, clearly enjoying your annoyance when you roll your eyes at him.

"Jung Wooyoung, stop it!" Your hand leaves an angry red mark on the bare skin of his chest, and he grunts. It will take all the patience in the world not to beat him to death or kiss him. "I swear I'll wash your mouth out with soap someday." Or maybe you'll lick him from the inside out. "And stop sticking your pretty little nose where you shouldn't. You don't have to worry about who I'm gonna fuck."

"So what if it bothers me? What are you going to do with it, Peach?" He bites his lips in anticipation and raises an eyebrow in expectation, as if he were challenging you to go on.

The way that smug look is on his face makes you feel a little pissed off. You get a little cocky and decide to use the same tactic he did. Wrapping your hands around his face, you're pulling him even closer, resting him on your forearms and your lips nearly touch. He has siren eyes that are deep and mesmerising, and the intensity of his gaze causes your cheeks to flush and you to bite down on your lower lip. The gleam in his fox eyes is proof that he is enjoying every second of your little game.

"Seonghwa kisses you like he's fucking your mouth with his tongue, it's fucking heaven and you can do whatever you want with that fact, baby. I would have ridden him like a stallion in front of everyone last night if it wasn't for you and San's drunken arses". You push him off of you, and Wooyoung rolls over to the other side of the bed as you sit up.

There's something in the air, and you feel you've said something wrong, judging by the way Wooyoung's eyes are flashing with an emotion you can't quite describe. It's a weird mix between anger, envy, desire and something else. But whatever it is, it is making your pussy clench in anticipation of it.

Damn, when did you start thinking with what's between your legs instead of your brain?

He stares at you intently, as if he's trying to decide whether he's going to scold you or fuck you senseless. As lust flashes through his languid onyx eyes like a shooting star, fast but unmistakable, and his pink tongue flicks out to wet his swollen lips, Wooyoung knows exactly what he's going to do to you.

You reach out to stroke his shoulder, and just as you expected, his skin is the most delicious shade of caramel. You can't help but want to run your tongue all over it.

Oh, shit. Now would be a good time to remind yourself: He's your best friend.

"Where`s San?" He asks you.

The expression on his face is, for the most part, neutral, with just a slight hint of lust and anticipation. He slowly licks his delicious lips and looks at you with bedroom eyes. You feel the warm moisture building up between your thighs. If he keeps looking at you like that, you're going to make a puddle of lust where you're sitting right now. You squeeze your thighs tighter to keep the liquid from dripping shamefully onto the bed, praying to all the gods that Wooyoung won't notice.

"I don't know. He wasn't in the bed when I woke up."

"Good."

What the hell is 'GOOD'? You need to collect your thoughts and leave this stuffy room, but the way Wooyoung's eyes slide over your body before, and slowly sucking his lower lip tells you there's nowhere to run. 

"Come to me, sweetheart; I want you in my arms." He is stroking himself on his thigh, the silk fabric of his pajamas leaving no room for imagination as it outlines the taut muscles of his gorgeous thighs. His legs are spread a little wider to draw your attention to where he wants you now, and you can clearly see the imprint of his thick dick through the fabric. Damn. It's completely hard, and you can't help but notice how big it is.

His actions send signals straight to the nerves that control your cunt. The wet heat is running between your legs and your arousal is increasing. A palpable shiver runs through all body as you squirm and writhe under the intensity of his gaze.

The rational part of you is literally beating in a hysterical frenzy. It's your hope that your stupid brain will realise the full implications of what's happening, and that you'll be able to put a stop to it. Even if the boundaries of your friendship were highly questionable, you were friends. While the evil voice in the back of your head was cheering you on: "C'mon, what's the bad that can happen?"

He was inviting you, and who were you to refuse? Not that you wanted to.

They'd go crazy if San and Wooyoung knew what thoughts and fantasies lived in your head every day. Huh. They had no idea their sweet chagia had such a dark and dirty mind. You take a deep breath.

Screw it.

You slowly crawl across the bed towards him. He watches you with a squinting, predatory look on his face until one of your legs has been thrown across his body and you're almost sitting on top of him. Almost, as your thighs struggle to keep you in that rigid position, but apparently Woo wasn't in the mood, and his broad palms force your hips down so you're sitting all the way in his lap. Before you realise what you're doing, you're pinned against his crotch, his hard cock touching your aching clit as you move against him, demanding physical stimulation. The contact was so good that it sent a shiver down your spine, and you almost moaned at the tiny moment of pleasure it gave you. Damn, it was massive—so thick you started salivating in your mouth. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You're up to your neck in shit. 

"There you are, starlight, in my hands." His voice, once so high and soft, was now hoarse and deep. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you even closer to him, so that there was hardly any space between the two of you. "Baby girl, are you still upset about Seonghwa?" It's a nickname he rarely uses, and it sends an electric shock through your lower abdomen, triggering a feeling you're not sure you can control right now. He leans in close to you and presses his wet lips against the side of your ear. "Tell me what I can do to stop you being angry with me."

"Kiss me, make me feel good." The evil little voice in the back of your head chimes in with glee. "Blow my brains out until my head feels empty and light." It says.

A whole new sensation takes over. Your body starts to heat up in anticipation of what is to come. Then the room will seem to shrink and the air will fill with a tension and a desire.

"I don't know. You've really pissed me off." You look up at him through your impossibly thick lashes, your lips in a fake pout. You weren't the innocent one; you could have played just as badly as they did. "You'll have to try harder, pretty boy." You let your finger nails run down the length of his neck. Wooyoung tilts his head back to reveal a chin line that could have been carved from the finest marble.

As his hands lazily caress your thighs, lifting your T-shirt higher and higher, your skin burns under his palms. Damn, he's scalding you.

The wetness between your legs is becoming more and more intense as the conversation goes on and on. Your juices seep through the thin lace of your panties, dripping from your pussy, leaving little dark streaks on the silk of his trousers where they touch your thighs. The air between you crackles with tension and desire; you feel yourself sweating; you're so hot and needy; and Wooyoung is no help at all.

His aura is one of dominance, and you swallow in anticipation. A storm is about to break and you don't want to be safe.

"I'll do whatever you want me to do for you, Y/N."

You're done for.

"Then kiss me, stupid boy, make me feel good."

He growls back at you, embracing you on the back of the head and practically forcing your faces together. The palm of his hand clenches possessively on the back of your neck with palpable pain, and the sound that comes out of you is something between a sob and a moan. With the sudden movement, you feel yourself pressing even harder against his dick, and it sends a pleasurable pulse through your clit.

Wooyoung presses his forehead against yours and your lips are just a breath away from each other.

You stare back at him without blinking. His eyes are half closed as he watches you in silence, like a tiger stalking its prey, ready to pounce with its jaws clenched. It is in a low, dangerously calm tone that he speaks. "Are you sure this is what you want to do, baby girl? I'm biting." It's mixed with your sighing and seductive lips, and you can barely make out the words.

"P-please…"

His moan is loud, guttural, and mildly painful, and then…

O MY GOD.

Those soft lips are pressed hard against yours in an urgent, hungry kiss. His mouth is insistent and demanding, his thumb digging into the skin of your neck, turning the touch into a rough grip, and his tongue gliding along the bottom of your lip. Slowly, as he pulls your lips apart, he moves in quickly, and you shudder at the sensual sensation as he runs his tongue over the roof of your mouth and licks your teeth. It should have been dirty and rough, but instead you find yourself moaning with wanton need.

"Wooyoung..." The moan of his name was so desperate, so needy, so full of lust and desire.

"Goddamn, I love it when you say my name."

He kisses you with renewed ferocity, biting your lips almost to the point of bleeding. Wooyoung is too passionate; he licks your mouth with his tongue, and literally shoves it down your throat. He kisses you like he's dying of thirst and you're the only way to make him drink. Spittle runs down your chin, it's wet and dirty, but you can't stop, you don't want to stop. Wooyoung's tongue is practically fucking you in the mouth.

And God, you want more. It feels unreal, too extreme to be a reasonable response to a kiss, the heat between your legs, your clit throbbing with need, your nerves on fire.

Wooyoung lets go of you for a moment and you stare at him with your eyes wide open. Your heart is pounding wildly and your breathing is so ragged that you're practically choking to death. Licking away any remnants of the kiss you shared, his wet pink tongue pokes out from between his plump lips.

His hand slides down your face, cupping your chin and tilting your head slightly so that your eyes meet his, his gaze clouded with lust as if his fingers were digging deep inside you. You can't say a word as a wicked smile spreads across his sharp, enchanting face.

Now you have a better understanding of all those damsels who are ready to spread their legs at the flick of his fingers.

"Tell me you want more, baby. I have a feeling this apology isn't enough. I need to do more than that. I'm so desperate for forgiveness.

"Don't I need to be forgiven too, Woo? You shouldn't be so greedy. That voice, oh shit.

You turn sharply around and find yourself staring into San's beautiful cat eyes. He's so damn good-looking you swallow a groan. It must be illegal for someone to look this good in normal jeans and a plain black shirt. But San had a body worth dying over.

A real girl's dinner.

What the hell are you going to do now? How long had he stayed there?

"San-ah… how…" You find yourself stuttering. Your mouth dries up and you can't utter a word, but even if you could, your brain can't form coherent thoughts. You can't bring yourself to look away from him, and something deep inside you knows that he will punish you if you try.

"What is it, Gongjunim? Did the cat eat your tongue?" He raises an eyebrow at you, a shit-eating grin playing at the corners of his lips. As if in mockery, his soft, patronising tone of voice slides over your skin. San combines a sensual, gentle nature with a seductive one that makes you feel he's looking for a weakness before pouncing. His fucking duality. One moment he's a little sweetheart, the next he's a lecherous demon who wants to sink his teeth into your throat and devour you. "Come on, Chagia, I promise I won't disappoint you; I'm very good at excuses."

Responding to his sultry purr, your pussy clenches shamefacedly.

The excitement of it all makes your brain feel like mush and sets your skin on fire.

You start squirming in Wooyoung's arms, and now that San's here, you belatedly realise what you've gotten yourself into. Is it time for a change of scenery or something? No, you want to stay. Desperately.

You need them to blow your brains out, to make you dumb and submissive and a pretty little toy for them to play with. Sometimes you have to stop before you cross the line, but where is the line when you're literally sitting on your best friend's hard cock?

Hell, you don't know what you're supposed to do - run or beg - but you clearly know what they want to do to you, judging by Wooyoung's dick twitching between your thighs and San slowly licking his lips as he looks at your bare ass peeking out from under your shirt. His shirt.

There must be some kind of telepathic connection between Wooyoung and San. After a few seconds of intense eye contact, San pulls his T-shirt over his head, tosses it aside and slowly walks over to you. The grin on his face seems to have changed; it has become even darker than before. Hungrier.

And you don't think this is a good time to start drooling. But damn it, you want to lick him from head to toe.

Between the three of you, there's a chaos of emotion and desire. It's mixed with adrenaline and a distant fear of what's going to happen. There has to be an end to this game of predator and prey, and why not do it now? Sighing, you finally give in.

In the morning, you'll consider the consequences.

"Maybe you should kiss me too, San-ah, and I'll start thinking about forgiving.

Hot lips instantly press an open, wet kiss to your shoulder. The bed buckles under the weight of another man's body. San's strong arms are wrapped around your waist and his fingers clench your t-shirt into a fist. He's hot, warm and hard, and you can feel the hardness of his dick through your trousers as he presses down hard against you. His mouth is sucking, biting and licking your skin as if his life depended on it. Sharing an understanding look with Wooyoung, San slides his lips higher up your body.

"Sannie…" Before planting a hot kiss on your neck, you whimper as his teeth sink into your sensitive flesh.

The moan that comes from the back of your throat is so deep that for a moment you wonder if it's coming from you at all.

Pure pleasure shoots through you as you feel Woo's long tongue on the other side of your neck. He lets out the sexiest moan deep in his throat, as if he's having the time of his life, savouring every second of the way his lips explore the nape of your neck. You're distracted. Your eyes roll back in pleasure as he pulls the skin between his lips, leaving a purple hickey on the back of your neck.

"Oh, my God, boys."

"That's my darling, Chagia." His voice is sultry and seductive, and you can clearly hear the saturi again, as it tends to do at times when San is in a highly aroused state.

"You're so beautiful, my peach." Wooyoung whispers to you, and you just melt away completely.

You whimper as Woo begins to run his hands up and down your thighs and arse, squeezing and pulling. He mooed softly as you made little circular movements with your hips and rubbed his cock against you. Woo punishes you by slapping your bottom if you cuddle too hard. You'll need to be obedient as they play with you.

The sound fills the room along with the collective moaning of Wooyoung's and San's.

"What a dirty little girl you are. I think you need to be taught how to obey." Woo spanks you a few more times and you wiggle your hips in an impatient way.

It feels so good.

San pulls your t-shirt up to your breasts while all your attention is focused on Wooyoung. Your little thong is completely transparent and does nothing to hide your sex or the excitement building within you. They are practically digging into your needy pussy because of the position you are now in. A chorus of gasps and moans can be heard from your best friends as their eyes focus on that big, wet spot. San's greedy hands press you even closer to his body, so that you can feel his full erection on top of your plump, bare bum.

"You're so fucking wet." Wooyoung hisses. "Like a bitch leaking just thinking about our cocks in your tight little cunt. We'll destroy you, Peach."

Before you realise what's happening, Woo's hands slide down your back, your nipples tensing in the cool open air. The soft fabric of your t-shirt falls to the floor, and suddenly, hot wetness envelops your left nipple and he sucks hard on it, the pressure causing pain that turns to pleasure as his tongue touches the hard bud. Your head immediately falls back onto San's shoulder as you open the soft space of your throat to his insatiable mouth. You let out a long groan, and your hand rests on Wooyoung's head, tugging lightly at the soft lengths of his hair.

You feel like you could explode at any moment, even though they haven't done anything to you yet. You're burning, almost feverish, as the growing fire between your thighs reaches unbearable levels. You can't breathe; your skin is hypersensitive. Your head tilts to the side, and you whimper San's name in the most pathetic intonation possible. His hand slides lower and lower, past your waist and your stomach, to the place where you most want to feel him. It hasn't even come close to touching your pussy yet, but the thought of it is enough to make you squirm with excitement.

His hands move down low enough to touch the skin of your naked legs and up slowly, frantically, until he reaches where you are starting to get aroused. The palm of his hand encircles your pussy in a possessive way, the small mound of flesh lying so perfectly in the palm of his hand. You tremble a little at this, and try to spread your legs wider so that his fingers can rub against the moist slit, so that he can dive in between the warm folds until your pussy spreads out beautifully for him, so that he can rub your clit with ease.

"Mmm… what a wet little thing. I bet my Gongjunim has the most beautiful pussy I have ever seen in my life. Fleshy, shiny, and pink - just the way I like it. He gasps for breath. He puts his hands on your hips and rubs his hard cock against the curve of your ass a couple of times. "Do you feel that, Chagia? No one can make me as hard as you can." On your skin, his breath feels like fire. Hoping for a little more friction, you arch your backside. The gesture reveals a hiss from his side.

San's fingers, one tempting back and forth with a feathery touch, spread the excitement building in your slit beneath the thin material. Your pussy clenches around nothing at all in the most uncomfortable way, and you know that he can feel it.

"Do you like this chagi? Wooyoung's mouth on your full, pretty tits? My fingers on your sweet little snatch?" San's tone is almost mocking. His tongue is licking his lips; his fingers continue to stroke your clothed pussy in a leisurely manner; and he watches intently as Wooyoung literally chokes on your breasts. "We are gonna fuck you until you squeal like the slutty little bitch you are." He growls into your ear, and the sound of it makes you pull on Woo's hair with all your might.

And you always had the impression that Wooyoung's mouth was dirty.

A soft moan slips out of the brunette's swollen lips, which are now wrapped so tightly around your nipple that you're sure they're going to leave a mark on it. As he pulls back with an audible pop, you let out a small sound as you look at his ecstatic face. His eyes are half closed, his eyelids flutter slightly and a beautiful flush of colour has appeared on his cheeks. His plump lips are glistening with the saliva and the service he is giving to your tits.

"Are you feeling good, peach?" He chuckles weakly as he watches you fall apart in San's skilled hands, leaving you as beautiful as ever in his eyes. Woo gives your nipple a hard pinch, only to then let his tongue run over it. The sudden change in sensation causes your head to begin to spin, and you let out a loud moan of pleasure.

"Please… I need… more… Youngiee." You stammer out the words, your voice shaking and your body trembling.

"You look so pretty when you beg. But do you want to know something, сhagi? You'll look even more beautiful with your cunt stretched around my dick. I will ravage your tiny pussy, Gongjunim. I'm going to make you mine." San finally kisses you; though it's hard to call it a kiss, he dives into your lips like a hungry man, sucking them so deeply and passionately, with an insistence that you don't even think you'll ever understand.

His tongue is merciless as he explores every millimeter of the inside of your mouth. This kiss is heavenly, and with every second that passes, you find yourself wanting more, wanting him to spoil you in every way that he can. To have his way with you until you have no more patience. And it is these thoughts that make you wriggle in Wooyoung's arms. You try to rub your thighs together, hoping to relieve the unbearable heat inside you.

"The taste is so damn good."

You can feel Woo squeezing your breasts almost in sync, his warm tongue sliding over the plump flesh once more, licking at the aroused nipples, and his teeth scratching the sensitive skin with the lightest of touches. You savour the lightning bolts of pleasure that the two of them cause to bounce around your body. It's almost painful, but you know you're loving this.

Half gasping, half squealing at the sheer, blunt pressure of San's nimble, kneading fingers finding their way to your labia through the mesh of the thong. Your lower abdomen clenches in a reflexive spasm, and your hands are sticky with sweat as you grasp the wrist of his hand.

"Oh, your pussy is so sensitive, isn't it, Chagia?" San cooed with feigned tenderness, and with a strange sadism, he pressed his middle finger against your cunt, sliding it right over the spot where your clit was, causing your hips to shake. The lubrication of your arousal made it much more effective for him to stimulate you, and he would literally bring you to orgasm with minimal effort. He purred softly as you responded, like a big cat purring, and just when you thought he couldn't fuck with your sanity even more, he turned his head and spat on your lips, a glob of saliva dribbling into your open mouth and you choked out a moan.

It's so rough and dirty, but your body responds the best it can, arching into his arms and pressing your breasts even harder against Wooyoung's face.

The brunette moans in response and lifts his foxy eyes to you. You can see the corner of his lips curl into a smirk before he bites down hard on your nipple. Fuck, your life will never be the same. And they haven't even got around to fucking you properly yet. It's like heaven and hell at the same time.

"I want to hear you whimper, Gongjunim." San's hand grips the back of your neck very tightly, causing you to gasp for breath from the sudden lack of air. Your eyes begin to roll up at the possessive touch of his hand on your throat, and you begin to jerk your hips, your clit pressing against Wooyoung's cock, and he lets out a long, hard moan.

"Please, Sannie." You're breathing out.

"Look at her, San, our girl, slobbering like a brainless slut." Wooyoung wipes the viscous saliva from your parted lips, then pushes his fingers into your mouth with a sharp, deep thrust. For a second you choke and begin to gurgle around the long phalanges.

He hadn't removed the rings yesterday and now the heavy metal makes your tongue feel cold. "Think of the way my dick is fucking your little throat, starlight. Suck it hard." You wheeze and gurgle, your saliva bubbling at the corners of your lips, but you have done exactly as you have been told.

It was rough, it was horrible and it was so wet that it was almost disgusting to watch. But Woo enjoyed it; he literally raped your mouth with his fingers in a sort of sadistic sense. A few thick strands of saliva would stick to your swollen lips as he pulled his fingers out of your mouth.

"Look at you. Taking my fingers in your mouth like that. Such a good girl."

This whole game has been nothing more than a distraction from the main action. There's a short circuit in your body as a sharp sensation pierces every nerve in your body. San suddenly slaps you hard on your wet pussy, the contact sending sparks of pain and pleasure flying across your skin, and you let out a squeal.

"Oh my God. Oh, my God. I'm going to… I'm going to…" You go over the edge as you feel your juices pouring down your legs, your vaginal muscles contracting, forcing more fluid to pour out of you, the combination of their names coming weakly from your lips as your orgasm washes over your weakened limbs.

"Fuck, Peach is so hot… You're squirting." You belatedly realise that Wooyoung is also cumming as he throws his head back in pleasure, his eyes rolling up and his mouth opening in a long, whimpering moan.

You can hardly catch your breath when you feel San rest his chin on your shoulder, his grip tightening around you, whispering in your ear.

"One more gongjunim; give me one more orgasm and then I'll caress you."

"Ah, San." The searing sensation of his fingers roughly pinching your clit through the wet material of your thong causes you to cry out hoarsely in agony. The sound of your wet, sensitive cunt splashing was clear and vivid; the sensation was brutal, but so indescribable you were ready to faint from pleasure.

He's going to tear you apart.

"Cum for me, Chagia. I know you can do it. Sperm for us; make Youngie and me proud of you".

Your eyes rolled back in your head and you swore that your cunt was on fire, your whole body shuddering in electrifying spasms of pleasure that made your toes curl up and your thighs shake. San's hand was still firmly around your throat, holding your head upright as you had your orgasm.

It had shattered you so badly that the fall seemed dramatic, and you went completely limp as the orgasm dissipated, turning you into an inconsolable, whimpering, disorderly mass.

They had blown your brains out.

"There you are, Gongjunim, I got you. You did so well." San muttered, but your mind was too tired to admit it. Amused at how angry and lost you looked, you saw stars as Wooyoung's hand tilted your head to the side in a teasing way to look at your confused face.

"You're no longer angry with us, are you, Peach?"

San removes his hand from your throat and allows Wooyoung to pull your face up to his own. Gentle fingers caress your cheekbones and soft lips wipe away the tears rolling down your cheeks. At one point, you didn't even realise you were crying. It's such a contrast to his previous behaviour; here he is your usual adored Jung Wooyoung, a little clingy, a little annoying and with an unrealistic maternal instinct. Your best friend.

Fuck. Now it is time for you to start crying for the real time. You begin to sob, pushing Wooyoung away from you in a desperate attempt to get out of his arms. You can feel the wetness underneath you and it makes you feel worse and worse. You need to get out of here now. Your behaviour frightens them to death and San's hands are on your body again, squeezing your shoulders gently.

"Stop, stop for a second, Y/N. It's all right, Chagia. We have you."

You freeze at the sound of your name, like a deer caught in the headlights.

In anticipation of his next move, your whole body tenses like a string. Wooyoung's fingers intertwine with yours. It's a familiar gesture, so familiar to you, so ordinary, so perfected over the years of your friendship. San lets you go when he realises you're not going anywhere, and his face comes to rest next to Wooyoung's as you look at him.

He's handsome, too, to the point of madness, and trembles at the knees. His cheeks are flushed. There's still a lingering gleam of lust and excitement in his eyes, but with a touch of strange emotion. His plush lips are soft and swollen from all the kissing, and his body glistens with sweat. And the reason he looks like that is because of you. You look at Wooyoung and see that he looks exactly the same, but the emotion in his eyes is more obvious than ever.

You want to crawl off his lap and cower in shame in the corner of the room so you don't have to look at all that tenderness and loveliness in his foxy eyes. You can handle his cheeky, flirtatious backside with ease, but this kind of Wooyoung is new territory for you.

"We… shit. This shouldn't have happened. This is the first rational thought to come out of your mouth all day. And you should have said it a lot sooner, before your two best friends made you cum twice with a squirting orgasm.

"Chagia, I think there's something we need to talk about, but first let's get you back to your normal self."

You don't argue; just nod and realize that San is absolutely right. You look like a complete mess, covered in saliva and lubricant. You can feel Wooyoung's cum seeping through the fabric of his pajama bottoms and drying on the inside of your thigh.

You look fucked.

"Yes, I think we have a lot to talk about."

It sounds terribly stupid, but what else can you say? Can we forget it? Or can we fuck again?

All your years of sexual longing for them have turned into a resounding slap in your face.

"Go take a bath, Peach, and we'll talk. San and I will take care of the rest."

For some reason, this sentence gave you a vague feeling of déjà vu. But you pushed the thought out of your head as quickly as it had come.

"Okay."

You finally slide off Wooyoung's lap, ignoring their stares at your almost naked body, there's no point in covering up or acting like a shy maiden, San's fingertips were rubbing your pussy just five minutes ago, bringing you to some kind of crazy orgasm, and the entire lower half of Woo's body is drenched in your secretions. If you've ever wanted to imagine how your friendship would turn out, this is it.

You trudge to the bathroom on your tired legs, pulling off your disgustingly wet thong on the way and throwing it on the floor. You turn on the light, turn on the tap and the whole room is immediately filled with the warm steam of hot water. Outside the door you can hear the muffled voices of the boys, who seem to be having some sort of heated argument, judging by San's irritated moaning and Wooyoung's loud whining.

You don't want to go into details; you still have time to destroy yourself. Your eyes catch sight of your reflection in the mirror. Tomorrow has come much earlier for you, if the fucked-up look on your face is any indication. Dishevelled hair, hickey marks, bruises and swollen lips from biting. What a beautiful morning after graduation!

"Wooyoung, you should have waited for me." San's voice is much louder now.

"As if I'm the only one who fucked her. Don't try to tell me it's all my fault."

You still don't want to join the conversation.

A pink, glistening puddle of something that smells like candy spreads across the bathtub. Thanks to Mingi, you have a whole collection of these colourful bombs. He's always had a soft spot for all things cute and charming, and he's taken every opportunity to spoil you to death with them.

With a tired sigh, you take another look at yourself in the mirror. So, Peach, are you ready for the consequences?

Turning away from your reflection, you lock the door with a click.

[rosiesmuts]

The Temptations of Jennie Kim

BLACKPINK Jennie

Words: 4,000

A/N: Boo! 👻

Jennie Kim is a pure unadulterated bitch.

Obstacle one is making it past the bouncer; having your name on the guest list makes that an easy task. Obstacle two is the sea of people; a VIP wristband solves that little inconvenience. Your expected prize for completing these side quests is a night of dancing, ending with divulging in the salacious body of a world famous idol. The light at the end of the tunnel is anything but. Obstacle three is something you couldn't see coming. That world famous idol has already found her seat, only it's on the lap of another man.

Your mind goes a million miles a minute trying to figure out a plan:

1) 'I should go up and confront her.' No, causing a scene wouldn't be good for anyone.

2) 'Fuck this I should just go home.' No, I can't let her just win so easily.

3) 'Fuck it, I'm already here, might as well grab a drink.' I guess this is the winner.

Probably not the best plan, but the one you've chosen.

"Don't tell me you're obsessed over her too."

An unfamiliar voice. Your eyes follow the voice, finding yourself face to face with a beautiful woman. It shouldn't be a surprise, this club is crawling with them. Too busy wallowing in your pity to notice her join your table and too late now to do anything about it.

"Huh?" Admittedly not the most suave response, but it's the one that comes blurting out.

"Jennie. Half the guys here are just sitting here staring at her, what's so special about her anyway?"

"Are you really surprised? BLACKPINK is a pretty big deal. Besides I want staring I was just-"

"Look at yourself, you're even sneaking in little peeks while talking to me."

Her hand is placed under your chin, forcing you to finally take a good look at her. You start to speak but she cuts you off.

"What’re you drinking?"

"Whiskey."

It's rare to see a woman take control. And here you were, sitting face to face with one. She flags someone down and orders you a fresh drink.

"What's your name?" You regret your lame choice of ice breaker the moment it's said out loud.

"Unimportant. Let's just have some fun and see where it leads."

Maybe there is a god. So far nothing you've said could be constituted as smooth, yet here she was, still giving you a chance.

Where things led was more surprises: first, a dance. A hot body pressed close and shaking, accompanied by a mind clouding cocktail of scents. Your eyes dart all over her: the glow of the mysterious woman's pale skin under the multicolored lights; her plump lips; her toned midriff.

"Still thinking about Jennie? I think you've got enough room to squeeze me in."

Both her hands come to rest at your hips, gently pushing yours forward and squeezing your body closer to hers. Your eyes lock, the music from the club fades out, and you find yourselves with your noses an inch away. This insanely hot girl, not the one you intended to spend tonight with, but not the worst thing you can think of right now. The tip of her nose brushes yours and her hands push forward one last time, the kiss can only be delayed a second longer.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

Jennie Kim has some nice timing. Just when you were about to give into this other woman, there was a tug on your shoulder and you're spun around–Jennie Kim's face, contorted with a mixture of anger and jealousy.

"You. Step the fuck back, he's not yours." Jennie shoves her hand out to your impromptu date, but that was apparently not an adequate barrier to keep her away. The girl comes up and wraps around your arm, not allowing Jennie to steal you away.

"He was until you got in my way."

"In case you didn't hear: step the fucking hell away." Jennie is nothing short of livid. People have stopped dancing, staring at the unfolding scene. Your new date notices the attention.

"Fine! He's not worth it anyway." And just like that your new acquaintance storms off, her hips and the smoke trailing from the bottom of her black dress being the last you'll ever see of her.

"Walk. Right. Now." Jennie drags you towards the hallway, likely intent on either berating or maiming you somewhere in private. In any other scenario it would sound like the fantasy of every man in South Korea, but right now you know it's bad.

A private room behind the dancefloor, a much better place to be killed and your corpse dumped than in front of hundreds of witnesses. She shuts the door with a slam hard enough you think it might shatter and locks it with an unnecessarily loud click.

"Who the fuck was that? You've only been here two minutes and you're already on top of another woman?!"

"Hey, hey, fuck you Jennie. Do you know what I saw when I came here? After you invited me? Oh you were totally there, sitting on another man's lap."

"That's not the same."

"Not the same my ass. Can you even begin to explain what it is then? No of course you can't. Because you're a spoiled fucking idol who does whatever the fuck you want."

You turn to leave, but are pulled back and receive a rough slap across the face. There's no pain, only the sudden red color filling up that side of your vision. She did it again. This time it brings with it the burning sensation. A stinging radiates across your cheek, an angry mark that burns more as the adrenaline fades.

Then in almost cliche like fashion you grab her face and slam her into the nearby wall, returning her slap with an aggressive kiss. Jennie doesn't try to pull away, in fact she gives just as much as she receives. If her jealousy made her slap, her frustration makes her kiss harder, her teeth digging in slightly at her efforts.

"Someone is still obsessed with me hmm~?"

"Fuck you." The reply is snarled out through the tears in your teeth.

"Why don't you? Make sure everyone out there knows who you belong to. You weren't even interested in that slut anyway. All you could think about was me."

Any rebuttal was silenced the instant a hand traced the outline of the bulge forming in your jeans. No words need to be said; she's right, there's only her. Her face, her smell, her voice. Jennie bites your collarbone through the shirt to try and get a rise and boy does it. A firm hand groping her behind and pulling her into you, meeting the hardness growing in your jeans. Jennie chuckles, enjoying the reaction.

"Do it. Go ahead."

Jennie fucking Kim. The girl of your dreams. The girl of your nightmares. You've fallen into her trap. What's happening right now can only be described as karma's cruel payback, an attempt to dangle your greatest desire right in front of your nose–before a final humiliating insult is slapped on it.

"You little bitch." Jennie taunts you, unraveling her flirtatious intentions as her skirt rides higher and higher along with your patience. "Go on. Put me through the wall. Pull it out and fuck me as hard as you can."

It would be too easy, wouldn't it? Giving her what she wants after what she did. Instead she's dragged to the couch and bent over you knees. Jennie yelps in surprise, before realizing what's coming to her.

SMACK.

"I didn't say stop." Jennie responds after feeling the forceful slap at her backside.

Another. Jennie cries out, before letting the sweetest sounds come tumbling out of her mouth. Your palm raises once more, pauses, and then swings down and impacts against the exposed skin. A large pink spot forms on the exposed skin as a result and you're starting to think Jennie is actually getting turned on.

"P-please."

"Well since you asked so nicely."

Her panties are brushed to the side and two fingers plunge in and begin exploring without any warning. Jennie squeaks and curls up at the sudden and bold invasion, but it doesn't take long before those two fingers find the sweet spot and stimulate a cascade of pleasurable electricity. In and out they go, aided in their efforts by the squelch of their occupant's excitement. The couch rocks as Jennie arches and bucks wildly, alternating between sporadic whimpers and full on screams of delight.

"I'm so close...so so close..."

Your fingers pull free then another smack against her ass again, interrupting her moment of bliss.

"You think you deserve to cum Jennie? Hmm?"

Jennie answers with an arch to her back, a long, sensual moan that turns into a low pitched growl.

"Yes...Yes...just let me cum please please."

She's grinding at the air, her desperation on full display. You're just a few seconds away from finishing her, of making this cute bitch cry out and go rigid as waves of pleasure radiate all the way from her groin to the rest of her body.

"Feel that pressed against your stomach Jennie? I think you need to suck it. Prove you deserve it."

Her feet meet the ground as she kneels between you legs, and with a final lustful glance, begins to pull away the zipper to your jeans. "You're a real fucker aren't you? Fine, I'll show you."

Down goes your underwear, tossed to the side of the couch, and up Jennie comes with the heaving package in her face. A tiny lick along the bottom of the shaft and then a more robust and adventurous one the entire length. No preamble this time, only the sudden heat and wetness as the girl with a history of petty remarks envelopes your member, coiling her tongue around the sensitive areas and sinking further into your lap.

This girl, Jennie Kim. How can she be so talented at such a crude act? The walls of her mouth shift in a thousand ways as she draws a throaty groan out of you, her tongue expertly knowing all the ways to drive you crazy. This fucking bitch, going deep, purposely drooling all over it, and looking up in satisfaction as she gags and chokes. Up and down she goes, swallowing and sucking back a mouthful every single time she rises. The picture perfect idol, loving nothing more than a throat full of cock, a wide streak of mascara under her eyes and spit all over her face.

The room grows ever hotter, the look in Jennie's eyes begging, imploring for you not to hold back. You sit upright and clutch onto her hair, fingers locking as tight as possible to guide her, taking charge of her bobbing head, sending yourself all the way up to your pelvis. Her arms are limp, her face is a mess, you've reduced a famous singer and model to a panting wreck, and that sight is almost too much.

"Fuck my mouth..." the pleads of the famous superstar when you let her up for air. Her request is granted, her hair gets pulled and the momentum carries your pulsating member all the way to the base. Inch by inch, millimeter by millimeter until the tip of her nose touches the pubic bone and her jaw is stretched as wide as possible, the outline of the member embedded into her throat.

The unholy gags are the hottest fucking thing ever. And the little flutters, her struggle not to cough, the spasms. Jennie Kim, proudest bitch alive. Choking and gagging on your cock, no thoughts in her brain of anything else but to please. She loves it, she wants it. More, more, more, always more, begging with her eyes the only way she could.

With a heavy gasp, you finally let up, letting her burning lungs draw air. While she is a coughing wreck, her face slick with tears and saliva, the thought that fills the forefront of her mind is exactly what's about to happen. The thrill, the idea, the exhilaration, she can't contain the giggling smile.

Jennie was a bad girl, touching herself while you fucked her face, showing off her fingers covered in her own juices and licking them clean. This woman was going to be the end of you, that smirk.

"You and that stupid ass cock." Jennie takes matters into her own hands, straddling your lap, lining up the tip. She's in control, now she'll decide just how far you'll sink into her.

"Dumb fucking whore." Your fingers wrap around her delicate neck. Her eyes widen, not in fear, but in excitement. They darken, her pupils dilating, the clear response to the aggression is reflected in a quickened pulse under the flesh. It isn't surprising the more forceful you get, the wetter she seems to get.

And holy fuck it feels so fucking good, Jennie's lower lips engulfing your tip. The walls of her cavern part and pull you deep within her, her breathing changes pace and volume, whimpering and panting as it sinks in further. She's warm, she's welcoming. Every inch is a bit tighter, the friction causing your heart rate to rise, and her arms, encircling you in a vice grip, coaxing a tighter hold on her throat. You can almost see the lightheaded effect it's having, the subtle shifts in her vision, the dream like daze that accompanies such euphoric sexual bliss.

Up and down Jennie bounces, the tempo of her breathing just a second out of synch, every moan coming just a second later. You don't try to hide your own pleasure either, groaning with a volume only a centimeter away from yelling and definitely noticeable beyond the walls. With a firm slap to the ass, her pussy responds in the best possible way; squeezing tightly for a moment and sending a pleasant shiver down your body.

Jennie fucking Kim. Her tightness, her perky tits, the fucking supermodel and worldwide heartthrob, riding you. That's a story to tell. The sight of this gorgeous bitch bouncing up and down like her life depends on it, the sound of flesh colliding reverberating throughout the room.

Her cries of pleasure come louder, with no sign of the fun ending any time soon. Another thrust and her eyes roll to the top of their sockets. The adorable scrunch in her nose, the contortion of the expression of carnal pleasure, the euphoria right after. The small smirk in the corner of her lips and the grinding of her hips into yours. She's close. Her face gives that away. Her walls pulsate, and if that doesn't sell it the pitch change of the moans certainly do. Her noises shift in timbre. Whines and loud whimpers, the sudden erratic nature.

There's no stopping her now, it's out of your control, and it's fucking beautiful. Jennie fucking Kim, cumming on your lap. Her thighs begin to spasm, a waterfall of juices spilling all the way down to the floor, pooling around your ankles. That fucking face, a cacophony of ecstasy. Then with one final, powerful groan, she suddenly stops. Her eyes shoot open and she curls up, freezing and grinding away. You pull her hair back, forcing the perfect idol to bare her neck and shriek, as her orgasm consumes her senses, her legs thrashing about and toes curled into their arches. Jennie fucking Kim came, her face red and a smile creeping upon the ends of her lips.

It's not over, not even close. Jennie's face a mask of desire, her breathing deep, still needing more, the short, panting breaths catching the tiny pieces of her hair waving across her face.

"Fuck me like you mean it." Jennie goads you on. Your hands wrap around her tiny waist, fingers digging into her flesh, and you start thrusting. Up into her body, down into her lap, each of her downward drops meeting a upward thrust, your hips meeting hers halfway. In no time her squeaky noises are echoing against the walls, your pelvic bones colliding hard, both of your bodies jerking about as you throw everything into each pump. Her eyes turn dark, a drunken gaze. Fuck yes, those lips curling back into a naughty, crazed smile.

"You can't fucking resist it can you?" Jennie screams the question, feeling your hands force her up and slam her back down with your hips surging forward. Her whole body lurching backwards from the impact and then snapping forward from the following motion. Another one, the smack of flesh meeting flesh resounding once more and the squirt of liquids spraying the air and wetting the sides of the couch. Jennie no longer cares, letting her body get fucked and then roughly jammed downwards and impaling herself repeatedly, filling the room with the loud slaps.

"You're nothing but a fucking whore aren't you?" You say it directly to her face and as expected the deprecating talk turns her on like nothing else. A genuine laugh followed by a growl and a "you want this tight pussy all for yourself?"

And another smack, a spank and a squeeze of her delicate ass. Her neck tilts backwards. Yes! Look into those deep pools, her gorgeous, intense stare. Losing control, that face, her mouth, it's open and wet and covered in saliva. That cute kittenish tongue sticking out of the edge of her lips.

Another thrust. Jennie's body flies forward from the impact, a lustful grin stuck on her face, burying your face in her small tits. Her chest jiggles with each pounding, a single moment of freedom followed by an instant of being engulfed in their softness. Those perfect mounds of flesh, enough to drive any sane man or woman mad with obsession, bouncing inches from your eyes, sweat coating their supple surface. Her giggle erupts and she sees that dumb smile plastered all over your face. Her nose rubs against your own. The stare is intense.

"We really fucking hate each other huh?" Jennie teases then goes in for a kiss. A sloppy, messy affair, her nails dig into your back, leaving a series of scratches as her pussy tightens around the engorged member within her. She's cumming again, the contractions drawing out another series of grunts.

"That's right, keep your dumb cock buried inside, you fucking love this tight pussy."

Oh how far this idol has fallen, the foulest mouth coming out the prettiest lips. Then she whispers in your ears to hold her hips tighter and fuck her harder, and fuck did you deliver. Her throaty groans filling your ears, a crescendo and a rapid beating pulse under your palms. You're close, this little superstar making sure you're as deep as you can be and clinging for dear life.

Jennie's hands wrap around your throat, squeezing, choking the life out of you, your vision blurring, and at the same time she's squirting a second wave and shaking violently. Her hips never stop moving, fucking herself silly. She doesn't stop, the nasty smirk has returned and a mumbled string of 'fuck fuck fuck' under her breath.

Jennie fucks you. Those perfect abs, her slim body, the smell of sex radiates all throughout. You're getting lightheaded, this cute piece of ass a violent whirl of raven hair and painful grip. The harder she orgasms, the harder she squeezes your neck. Then, stars start filling your field of vision and your vision goes white, the pulses start firing. Sick sadistic oxygen depravation brings one of the hardest orgasms in your life. That twisted smirk of the psychotic woman, the evil in her gaze as the heat fills the pit of her belly. She feels it, your load splashing inside of her womb. As you release, so do her fingers, the blood rushing back to your brain not a moment too soon.

Her expression, oh how proud she is for her conquest. You couldn't look anywhere else, this perfect devil in front of your eyes. The cute, tingly and erotic feeling flowing from your groin, it never stops and only grows, the continuous shots, emptying everything you have into her. This little fucking bitch, controlling you until the very end.

Jennie fucking Kim sits satisfied as you gasp for air, a mixture of confusion, satisfaction, and pleasure overwhelming your body. That beautiful little smirk, her hips rolling about, enjoying your final twitches before everything softens.

"See, now tell me that wasn't worth the wait."

Jennie collapses forward, a content sigh, a murmur in your ear about how her body feels. Your legs and feet tingle, a sort of numbness and buzz from the powerful waves of euphoria. Jennie stretches like a cat, all while nuzzling against your neck.

She leans in for a kiss, soft, gentle, uncharacteristically kind. Fingers thread into her hair, your palm resting against the side of her neck. She's warm, and tired, the once energetic and brash girl now settling down, almost vulnerable.

"You know why I keep coming back to you?" Jennie seems almost kind, running her hands through your hair and looking at you with loving eyes.

"Must be my big cock." You tease her, pinching her bum, and stealing another kiss in the process.

"Of course you can't be serious for a single fucking minute." Jennie shoves her shoulder against yours. "No you idiot. When we fuck, it's so fucking good. And look at you. Trying to act all tough, but when I tell you to fuck me harder you do just that. And when I tell you just like that you don't change pace for a moment."

The affection, her soft words. Jennie Kim loves to act hard, to show herself off. There's the world's most famous pop star, snuggled into your shoulder. Her finger tracing along the outline of your chin, the last few beads of sweat dripping down her forehead and her eyelashes. Jennie almost looks sweet, smiling down upon you. That signature gummy smile, the tiny dimple on one side. How can someone so rough, have such a charming side?

"Give me your jacket fucker."

Now this, this was much more of a Jennie thing to say. What a cute and silly request after something as passionate as what the two of you did. Jennie's sweat soaked body. Your brain is a fog, still lost in the moment, struggling to take the demand seriously, still looking at those flawless thighs, now tinged pink.

"I can't leave this place looking like this. You're taking me home. Don't think I'm done with you yet." The look in her eyes, that mischievous glimmer. A girl bent on devouring you. Her knee pressed against your crotch drives you back into reality. "Did you not get the fucking memo? Hurry the fuck up."

There is no shortage of nerve in this girl, and fuck if her confidence and commanding tone isn't doing anything for the part of your brain in charge of desire. If anything, you know she's not exaggerating, she still isn't fucking done. Not by a long shot.

It'll be another long night, the same pattern of anger and lust. Spoiled fucking idol Jennie Kim, turning you into a fucking puppet. Letting you do the strangest things to her in the middle of the night. That bitch. That perfect little devil.

And you wouldn't have it any other way...

[a-b-riddle]

A Simple (Mis) Understanding Chapter Two: Numbness & Pain

Daisy

I always used to think it was an exaggeration of how pregnancy is a constant state of exhaustion. But it was a lot of work growing a tiny human. Add in the fact that I'm still working 40 + hours a week and, of course, something is always causing some sort of discomfort or pain.

Swollen feet, back pain, nausea; I can't even find any solace in sleep. The 32 week mark felt so close, yet still so far. Another eight or so weeks of this seems like a drop in the bucket compared to how far along I am, but still. That still another two months. So far away when you want to be done, but still too short compared to everything I still have yet to do.

Another two months to set up a crib and wash her new clothes. Another two months to figure out a name and make decisions that I always envisioned making with a partner. Another two months of struggling to do things like picking up shit off the floor or staying on my feet long enough to make a decent meal.

But right now, I wasn't worried about the two months ahead of me and all the things I still have to do. Right now, I was looking forward to a three day undisturbed weekend. The pain in my feet and sciatica was becoming so bad, I had taken Friday off to see a doctor and spend the rest of the weekend doing nothing, but sitting in my modest little house and watching mind rotting television. I might even indulge in some spicy reading. Heaven knows its been too long.

Or at least, it hasn't been since them. That day in the office, but... that really didn't count. I often wrestled with myself about it. That one time erased any feelings I had for any of them. But I felt a bit pathetic how it now tainted every good memory I had with them. Kyle bringing me something to snack on when he realized I hadn't gone to the mess hall. Price always having a cup of earl grey tea cooling for me first thing in the morning. Two packs of zero calorie sweetner and a bit of honey.

Sweet like you.

I couldn't stand the smell of it now. I blamed it on the hormones. A lot of things made me queasy, but something about the smell of the bergamot, made me sick in a completely different way. A feeling not of nausea, but of... fear. Like the same way a pentagram could summon demons, earl grey could summon mine. As if John Price was somehow there any time the scent lingered in the air.

But he wasn't. None of them were. Fuck. Why did my thoughts always go back to them at some point? No. This was going to be a relaxing weekend god dammit. Fuck them.

Almost angrily, I hit the garage key fob, shutting the door and engulfing me into darkness; a thin line of light leaking through the bottom of the garage door. When I had opened my door, I could at least see a path to my mudroom. I grabbed my purse, ready to go in, when I felt it.

Hundreds of needles. Stabbing and digging into my feet. Not just the soles, but the entire fucking foot the moment I bared any weight on them. I pulled off my flats and it was then I noticed how angry they looked. Red and swollen and all but screaming at me to sit my fat ass back down. I wiggled my toes, trying to get some blood flow. Fuck. Why didn't they hurt while I was driving?

I manage to get onto my feet, using the car door as support. Steading myself until I was ready to take the first step. By the time I had managed to all but crawl inside, ten minutes had passed since my initial arrival time. I got off at 5:00, but usually didn't log off until almost 6:00. Granted, I work from home, but I had run out of a few essentials. Essentials now that were in the boot of my car.

Fuck.

10 minutes won't hurt. Not like there is any thing frozen. Speaking of which, I forgot my ice cream... dammit. I really need to start keeping a list on the fridge. It's hard to remember when pregnancy brain (or stomach) takes over and I slam a container in a single sitting.

Grabbing a pillow from the couch, I went to the kitchen. Which considering the town house, or terraced housing I suppose now, was perfect for a single and expecting Omega it was cozy. Not like the base where going from the common area to the chow hall was about a three minute stroll.

I get down and lay on my back. Carefully maneuvering so my ass rests against the cabinets before I hook the back of my heels unto the counter top so I could rest my feet a bit. Not the most sanitary, but it wasn't like I had guests. It was just me. For now.

It took a few moments to adjust. My back ached against the hardwood, but I could already feel the relief from my feet and legs. It wasn't all that shocking that I was having a hard time with them. I had gained a considerable amount of weight during my pregnancy. When I had brought it up to the OBGYN about possibly cutting back on food, her suggestion was to simply not weigh myself at home. Now when I went in for a visit they made me turn around before taking my weight.

It was hard. I've always had a problem with how I looked and now adding pregnancy then taking away the option to diet and exercise didn't exactly help.

I pulled out my phone and was preparing to open my kindle app when I saw a tiny red bar in the top right corner of my phone. Of course. I get nice and settled and my phone is on 2 fucking percent. Whatever. I tell Alexa to set an a timer for fifteen minutes and take a little nap. Maybe meditate.

A knock on the door quickly brings any possibility of relaxation to a pause. Margaret next door was dropping off Winnie off early to go to her book club. Margaret was a widow and a recent empty nester. She had spent her life as a mother and a homemaker. When I got custody of Winnie two months ago, she had quickly stepped up in helping me with everything from child rearing to managing my pregnancy.

"Hello, Maggie!" I greeted from the floor. "Hello, Winnie Darling." Winnie had the same sand colored hair as me and bright green eyes. Her face was a shade of red and I could smell her from the entryway. Someone would need a bath today. Fantastic.

"Oh, Dear!" Maggie fussed, setting Winnie down on her feet before coming over to me. "Are you alright?" Winnie didn't bother stopping to hug me like she normally would before making a beeline toward the potty. She usually was a creature of habit, but nature calls I suppose.

"Feet are a bit swollen." I waved off. "Just resting them a bit."

"I don't have to go tonight." She set her bag down. A deep green corduroy shoulder bag that always had just what you needed in it. A wet wipe, hand sanitizer, a spare tissue and even a stain pen when a spill happened at the most inconvenient time. "I'll stay and-"

"Maggie." I said, trying my best to sound at firm, but it was hard with her. No one told Maggie 'no'. "It's alright. Just a bit of water retention. Nothing to fret over." And it wasn't. I could already feel the pain from earlier subside.

"Really, it's no bother." She argued, bending over to unstrap one of her shoes. "It's a bloody stupid book anyway. I just go for the gossip really."

"Maggie." I tried again. "Really."  "It's getting close to the due date and I don't want to burn out on me just yet." It was a lie. Even with her greying hair, a deepened laugh line, Maggie didn't burn out. She was one of the few Omegas I had met in my life and she could run circles around any of them, myself included.

The sound of flushing sounded from the bathroom followed by the faucet. She huffed before slipping her shoe back on. "If you insist."

"I do." I encouraged. As much as I loved having Maggie's help, I hated feeling like a burden. She had raised her children. It was time for her to do things for herself. "Besides, we'll see you tomorrow after my appointment tomorrow." The bathroom door clicked open, revealing my little Win with the front of her smock covered in water. Fantastic.

"Hi, Mommy." Winnie finally greeted. Her freshly washed hands dripping water droplets onto the hardwood. "What are you doing?"

"My feet hurt so I'm just letting them rest." I explained, looking up at her. Winnie was rambunctious as most four-year-olds without a sense of self preservation are, but when I explained to her how careful she had to be now that I had her sister in my belly, her nature had become more gentle.

It worried me as much as it warmed my heart. 

"Why don't you sit on the couch?" She asked. Her head tilting to the side, face etched as if she were trying to figure out my reasoning.

"Because it helps when you lift your feet up high in the sky, Winnie Pooh." Maggie explained before looking back at me. "Well if you're sure-"

"I am. Go." I urged. "We'll see you tomorrow. Lunch around noon?" Spending time with Maggie didn't make me feel like such a parasite when I knew she enjoyed the company. Her children had all moved away, only one staying in the UK. She wasn't so alone, but neither was I.

"Wouldn't miss it." She gave a soft smile. The laugh lines around her face deepening. "See you tomorrow, Dearies." She said, retreating back outside. The soft sound of the door clicking behind her.

Winnie had laid down beside me. Yep. Definitely going to need a bath tonight. "How was school today?" Winnie went to a pre-school that was luckily covered under my insurance. Perks of being an Omega. I'll take it where and when I can.

She talked about going to the playground and painting. All the usual bits. Who she played with and new things she learned. Then came the question. A question she had asked before in passing. A subject I changed with ease before. 'Have you brushed your teeth? How about another episode of Bluey? Put on your trainers (because we can't just say tennis shoes anymore) and we'll go for a walk to the park. I had skirted around the question with ease. 

"Why don't you have a mate if you have a baby?" Winnie was too young to get the answers to a lot of life's difficult questions. Why did Tiffany not like us? Why didn't she get to see her daddy anymore? Why did that man look at you weird on the train, mommy?  I wish she would just stay this little. That she never needed or want to know the harsh truths about me, us.

"I..." I wracked my brain for an answer and just came up short. I couldn't think of a way to sugarcoat it. We almost had a mate. Mates. We almost had a pack that would have walked you to school on the mornings my feet were too sore or I was already running late. They would have loved you. "It... it's complicated, Darling." Is what I chose instead. The other worrisome fact is that Winnie was too young to understand the concept about mates. I had never broached the subject which only means she probably heard it from some little shithead at school. 

Wonderful.

"I'll explain it when you're older." I promise, closing my eyes and letting her snuggle into the crook of my arm. "Do you wanna rest your eyes with me?"

"Like when I'm five?" She asks putting one of her hands underneath my shirt onto my belly. It had become a thing she had started since I told her about the baby.

"Maybe six." I said, looking down at her. She gave a yawn before closing her eyes.

"I think five is better."

"Okay, Win." I said. "When you're five we'll talk about it." It was a promise I hoped she would forget. But I didn't want to negotiate with a four-year-old about something future me could deal with. I wanted just 15 minutes of this. I order Alexa to set a timer to make sure we haven't dozed too far off. Winnie still needed to shower and eat. I still needed to get the groceries out of the car. But I could spare another 15 minutes.

[hiddenonyx]

Obey Me! Beach Day Headcanons

a/n: oops I fell off the face of the earth. I'm slowly working on stuff, trying to clean what shit I had started, before I work on other stuff, but here's a little something that I threw together. *this is mostly unedited so apologizes

Prompt: what each cast member does during a day trip to Diavolo's beach.

Lucifer - reclines on a sun-lounger in the shade with a tropical (alcoholic) drink and either reads, or sleeps. He was told to relax so he is - and he's not responsible for anything his brothers do, nor will he fix any problems that they inevitably cause.

Mammon - goes swimming and does a little bit of diving. Often gets roped into doing something on the beach - such as building sand castles, burying people, or some sport - or helping Asmo take photos.

Levi - either buries himself in the sand or goes swimming. If he decides to be buried, he's going to take a long nap - making up for all his lost sleep from late gaming nights and early mornings for conventions. If he's swimming, he's probably trying to spook people (mainly Mammon) by pulling at their legs.

Satan - likes to look for tide pools and see if he can't name everything in them, or he walks the shore line during low tide to see what turns up. He also tends to be the one asked to identify any weird creature anyone else finds. If he's not poking around tide pools, he's reading in the shade with a nice, easy drink.

Asmo - takes pictures. He takes pictures of everything - himself, his brothers outfits, food, drinks, the environment, you name it, he's probably already taken a photo of it. When he's forced to put the camera down, Asmo enjoys building sand castles or sitting on the shore line and letting the waves gently wash up against him.

Beel - does a bit of everything, almost. Tags along for swimming, and him and Belphie often accompany Satan on his walks to the tide pools. Beel also enjoys helping Asmo build sand castles and doesn't mind simply relaxing in the shade either. He's the one who offers to take care of Luke so Simeon can finally go drink relax.

Belphie - just sleep. Picks a nice shady hammock not far from where everyone is and just passes out. Though he is willing to be woken up for a poke around tide pools and the shoreline at low tide.

Diavolo - is very much like Beel, and does a bit of everything, though he does prefer activities involving water. Probably accidentally start a water fight, and then while he's dripping wet, go hug Lucifer who protests immensely because he didn't want to get wet at all.

Barbatos - stays exclusively in the shade. While he might be an aquatic demon, Barbatos is more used to the icy black depths of almost arctic water than warm tropical water. Man is sweating and counting down the minutes till they go home (there's still 5 hours to go). Despite being in the shade and wearing (and reapplying) the most sunscreen ends up being incredibly tan or sunburnt afterwards.

Simeon - supervises Luke for the most part. Helps him build sand castles, and holds his hand when the big waves come to the shore while they're walking. Picks up a few shells for Luke too , and when someone else (Beel) offers to take care of Luke so Simeon can relax a bit, he drinks almost as much liquor as Lucifer does.

Luke - is so excited that he doesn't even care if he's showing it. Tries everything minus actually swimming in the ocean (everyone agreed that that activity was probably a little too much and too dangerous for Luke). Even lets himself be buried in the sand. Ends up a little tan and maybe with a light sun burn, but can't wait to go again.

Solomon -ends up also in the shade, probably next to Barbatos so that they can be grumpy together. Didn't even bring anything to do because he knows he's going to sweat too much to really tinker on anything. Futility applies sunscreen knowing damn well he's going to walk away sunburnt regardless.

-------

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[munsons-hellfire]

Lost Part 1 | Cassian

SUMMARY: You were the princess of the Spring Court. But you no longer wanted to follow behind your brother. When Feyre decides to leave, she takes you and Lucien. But with the discovery of your mate and a war on its way you start to feel so lost.

PAIRINGS: Cassian x Tamlin!Sister!Reader

CONTENT WARNINGS: Mentions of abuse, mfw, part 1, I might have missed something but I don't think this really has a lot of warning in this part. Enjoy!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So I ended up turning this into a few parts. There are a few points I want to touch and I don't think it would've been a good idea to do one whole part. If you wish to be added to the tag list for this please let me know down in the comments. The sumary will most likely stay the same I'm not sure yet.

WORD COUNT: 2.0K

It felt like forever. The torture you faced under your bother’s ruleing. It wasn’t protection as he liked to call it. It was a prison, Tamlin had taken over after your father had been killed. You hadn’t been able to shed a tear when it happened, you always assumed that you weren’t meant to be in the Spring Court. When Feyre arrived as a human, you knew she was your chance for an escape.

So when she took the opportune moment to leave, you followed right behind her. Currently you didn’t understand how you had found yourself in this situation. You, Feyre, and Lucien had been on the run from the Spring Court. Little cuts littered your chest, arms, neck, and face. It was so cold, you didn’t know if you could hold on any longer. One of Lucien’s brothers was on top of you, holding you against the ice.

He lifts your head up and slams it down into the ice hard. Stars are dancing around your eyes, as you struggle to keep the blade from going into your throat. Your hand was on the blade, blood dripping onto your neck. A whimper escaped your lips as he stared down at you with a malevolent smile.

“You make such pretty sounds, I wonder what else I could get out of you.” He whispered, his tongue licking up the side of your chin all the way to your pointed ear.

You tried to push the male of you but it was no use. He was far stronger than you, and right now you were too weak. You couldn’t access your power considering you were drained. There were plants all around you even in the Winter Court but that was the last thing on your mind. It also didn’t help that you had never learned to fight. Tamlin had thought it was best you learn how to be a housemaid, how to be a mother, how to take care of your future husband.

Whatever the case may be you learned everything except how to fight and how to use your powers in a situation like this, it was biting you in the ass. Where Tamlin could shape-shift, you could manipulate the plants around you. But your brother didn’t know that, you knew better than to tell him your secret. Just before he could do further damage to you another male flew into him knocking him to the ice.

You turned to your side, a wince leaving your lips as you watched that same male throw a punch into his face. He continued to do so, he hadn’t been able to stop until someone had pulled him off Lucien’s brother. He wasn’t dead, you knew that he was knocked out cold. Your breath was shallow, as the male turned towards you red siphons glistening in the darkness of the night. He was leaning over you, hazel eyes searching you.

He gently picked you up, resting your head to his chest while he cradled the rest of your body. You stared up at him, when he looked back down at you, it snapped. Just before you closed your eyes you felt the gold thread tied around your heart. The mating bond had snapped, you were tied to the male that had just saved you. Now that you were safe you could close your eyes and that’s exactly what you did.

☾

Rhysand stood next to his brother as Madja worked on you. Cassian had his arms crossed over his chest, he was leaning against the door. The male was trying his hardest not to hover over Madja while she worked on his mate. But it was excruciating not to be next to you to hold your hand while she healed you.

“Are you positive?” Rhysand asked again, finally looking over at his brother. Feyre was at the end of the hallway, with Azriel as well. Lucien was also there but Cassian didn’t care much for him, his brother was responsible for the injuries to his mate. He wanted to kill him so they were standing guard in front of Lucien.

“Yes. The Princess of the Spring Court is my mate. I know she felt it too.” Cassian explained again, saying the same thing he’d consistently said when they had arrived back home. Cassian paused, staring briefly at his brother. “Do you really think she has powers?”

“Feyre believed it, and I know what I saw when we were under the mountain. Tamlin didn’t see it but Amarantha did. She protected herself in a cocoon of vines. Whatever she can do, she’s more powerful than she believes herself to be.”

Cassian had heard mentions of the story about how you’d protected yourself to avoid the affliction of pain at the wrath of Amarantha. She loved your older brother, but she hated you. So she’d made your torture just as cruel and wicked as Feyre had gone through. She even locked you up with Feyre, keeping you distanced from the only family you’d ever known. Tamlin. Lucien.

Rhys had told Cass that he had done everything in his power to keep you safe. But when that happened, everything changed. He knew eventually you’d be in his court. Tamlin would destroy you, and it looks like he’d already done just that. Finally Rhys looked back at Cassian again.

“We need to keep her safe.”

“She’s my mate, I won’t let her go back to that bastard of a brother. She’s safe here.” Cassian stated calmly. He caught Rhys looking down the hall to Feyre who gave a nod.

“Then you both need to accept the bond officially, Tamlin will demand her back. And if it isn’t accepted we have no choice but to hand her back over.”

“I’ll discuss it with her when she’s awake. Until then I can’t do much.”

Rhys gave a nod of his head as Madja walked up to them. “She is healed, though she might be out for a few days. Everything was drained, powers included. She needs time to rest.” Madja explained.

“Thank you.” Cassian said, stepping past the healer and walking into the room. He grabbed a chair and set it next to your bed. Then he reached for your hand, holding it in his. Cassian would wait days for you to wake up, as long as you came back to him.

☾

You held onto that thread when you thought you might die. Slowly you blinked open your eyes, a groan escaped your lips. You looked around the room noticing that you weren’t in the Spring Court. Then the memories of what had happened came flashing back into your mind. Panic started to rush through your body, however a hand gave you a comforting squeeze. You turned your head to see the male that had saved you holding onto it.

Just like you remembered he had red siphons on his body. Seven of them to be exact. His black hair was shoulder length, some of it was tied back in a small bun. He looked sexy with his hair that way. A smirk covered his lips, he must have seen what you were thinking was plastered on your face. His golden-brown skin made him look just as handsome. You could see some tattoos peaking through his shirt.

It was a gray shirt and was fitted perfectly to his upper body. You wondered what everything looked like underneath his clothes. Your mind started to drift, thinking of what he’d feel like against you, naked. His pulling of the chair brought you out of your thoughts, you decided to pull yourself up slightly so you could lean against the headboard. You felt the golden string that connected you to him. It was such a pain to not be closer to him. You needed him closer.

“Can you hold me?” Your voice was soft as you asked the question. He stared at you, the confusion was there only for a moment before it switched to understanding. You watched as the male stood from the chair, removed his boats and climbed into your bed. He leaned you forward gently, sitting behind you.

When he settled down into the bed, he pulled you towards his chest. You had noticed that somewhere in between him joining you on the bed he'd taken off his shirt so you could feel his warmth. You rested your head back on his chest, and closed your eyes feeling the bond shine brightly at the touch.

“I’m Cassian.” He whispered in your ear after a few moments of silence.

“Y/N.” You paused, pulling his large hand into yours and entangling your fingers together. You didn’t understand how you’d gotten so lucky to be blessed with a mate provided by the Mother. “So you really are my mate?”

You questioned finally. Maybe this was all a dream, and you’d wake back up in the Spring Court. You didn’t want that though, you’d known you had finally gotten away from your brother's temper and you couldn’t go back to it. Things had gotten worse for you when you’d all returned from under the mountain.

“I am.” Cassian’s words were so comforting as he said them.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get a mate. I… Tam said I’d never experience this. That I’d be marrying off to someone who would never be my mate.” You felt your mate tighten his grip around your waist, his jealousy was evident but you didn’t mind it. Oddly enough it felt comforting, you’d been missing something like that for a long time.

Cassian clenched his jaw at the mere mention of what your brother had in store for you when the time was right. He nudged his nose into your hair. “I can assure you mate, that’ll never happen. I will not allow your brother to take you away from me.”

“But Tam, he’ll try to get me back. I am the princess of the Spring Court after all. He’ll try to call a meeting, to call for a battle against this court.” The worry was evident in your voice as you spoke the words that Rhys had mentioned a few days ago.

“If we accept the mating bond, your brother can not do anything about it. We can accept it then see a Priestess.”

You wanted to reject the idea of accepting the bond so quickly, but you knew that was a lie. Cassian was your mate, and you were his. This had to be done, and it had to happen now. A war loomed over your heads because of your brother. He’d chosen the wrong side and you wouldn’t stand by anymore. Not with what you could do.

“Let’s do it.” You spoke finally. “I need a day, and we need somewhere where it can be just the two of us. When we come back we’ll see a Priestess.”

“I have a place in mind for privacy.” Cassian said, a smirk on his lips. “I can give you a day as well. But after that you’re mine forever, princess.” You only gave a nod and closed your eyes leaning further into Cassian’s chest. It wasn’t until you were finally asleep, breathing evenly that Cassian called to Rhys in his mind.

“How is she?” It was the first question he had asked when the conversation started.

“She’s fine.” Cassian paused, he glanced down at his mate. “She wants to accept the bond.”

“Good. That’s excellent news brother. I think we could all use that right now.”

“We’re gonna head to the cabin for a few days, then we’ll see a Priestess when we come back.”

“Sounds like a plan. When you both come back we’ll discuss what to do in case Tamlin does try to do something. I want to help her learn her powers if she’ll let me.”

“I think she’d be more than willing to learn. I think it would be great to start training with her as well even if we don’t get far into it.”

“Good idea, brother. Both of you get some rest. I’ll let Feyre know she’s doing better.”

With those words Cassian felt his High Lord leave his mind. When Cassian looked back down at you he noticed that you were asleep. The fae lights in the room dimmed down allowing only the moonlight into the room. Cassian held onto you tightly as you slept on top of his form. This wasn’t the best of circumstances, how he found you. But he was so glad that he’d found you when you needed him most.

[hyunjilicious]

most to least kinky [skz ver.]

A/n: this has probably been done a million times before but I thought I could make my own list, right?

Warnings: this isn't full on smut, but A LOT of things are mentioned (from slapping to ass eating to crying to cnc) I can't possibly mention them all. Needless to say, this is strictly 18+, please proceed with caution!!!!

Disclaimer: I'm sorry. I'm incredibly sorry, ok? I don't understand Seungmin 😭😭 I absolutely love him with all my heart, but he's a mystery to me. I've also only been in this fandom for a few months so maybe with time I'll be able to write for him but until then, I'll just keep apologising to my Minnie biased readers for doing their baby dirty. I'm sorry, I promise I'm trying!! 🥺

Please let me know what you thought and if you have other ideas!! I'd love to hear different opinions!!!

1. Lee Know 

Do I even have to explain? At this point, you could basically write an entire encyclopedia only using the stuff this man is into - he knows it all and wants to try it all. The thing is, whether he trusts you enough or not, because if he's too shy to bring up the one thing that's on his mind, he'll bombard you with hints, hoping he'd "manipulate" you into mentioning it first. Not that he'd ever do anything you're not 100% comfortable with, but he'd much rather you be the one who asks. He'd slap your ass, bite it, mark it, grope it, eat your pussy from behind and send you porn links - all while hoping you'd finally get the idea and ask him to eat your ass. Because he's shy like that. But once you do catch on and tell him about it, he's all in. 

And then, as he grows more comfortable around you, all these little games you two play will slowly start to shift. His main priority will always be you, but with time, his teasing nature will replace the old Minho you used to have sex with, and literally everything this man does will be about driving you insane. 

He'd make you beg, whine, crawl on your knees, hump pillows - hump his leg, just so you can prove yourself, only to deny you again, always with a grin on his face. A loving smile as he looks at you, right before he throws a very swift "No" in your face and makes you start over. You have to be spent, exhausted, dumb and drunk on him before he finally gives you what you want. But when he finally does, it's everything you ever wanted and more because he doesn't.hold.back.

2. Jeongin

To be fair, it might be because he had to go through the "Watch your mouth, there's a child in our grup!" phase, which - cute and all, got old very fast. Maybe this side of him would have never surfaced like this, but you can't possibly know, there's only one Jeongin and he's a meanie. He's stern, he's serious and there's only one way, his. 

He takes the safe word very seriously because otherwise, he doesn't take no for an answer. There's no "too much", "too hard", "too fast". He doesn't care. He knows you can take it and you have to. 

You don't move, he moves you. If you don't shut up when he tells you to, it's 'ass up, face down into the pillow' - no questions, no warnings. 

It all starts nicely, though. His good little girl, his angel, who needs to do absolutely everything she's told otherwise his punishments will be downright cruel and you'll be nothing more than a "dumb, fucking whore" until he's done with you. 

One thing that makes him draw the line though, is crying. He loves to see little tears at the corner of your eyes as he fucks you into oblivion, just so he can mock you for it, "Oh, is my sweet, little baby crying?" and then go faster. But if you let out anything more than a cute, little sob, or if you start actually crying, even though you're still down to keep going, he won't. He can't. He's cruel, but not that cruel, it hurts his heart to see you like that and absolutely never lets things get that far.

3. Felix

This man is into… everything. His eyes light up every single time there's something new for you two to try, and he puts his whole soul into it. 

On one hand, he's into the basics - he goes crazy for your tits, will lick, bite, suck and eat anything off of them (absolutely adores eating cream off your body, but yeah, your tits are his favorite spot). He loves lingerie, loves ripping it off of you, loves seeing you dress up, pretend to be a nurse, a teacher or the girl next-door who just so happened to leave the window open. 

Doesn't have a daddy kink but he's just so obsessed with doing absolutely anything for you, he'd go with it. Most likely prefers 'Sir' but it isn't a must. Will melt and cry if you allow him to fall you 'Mommy'

The definition of a switch. When he's a dom, 90% of the time he's soft, full of praises and encouragements, loves making you feel all safe and loved as you degrade yourself for him. He'll whisper in your ear the absolute sweetest, most loving words you ever heard in your entire life, all while completely breaking you in half with his cock. But also, there are times when there's just one way for him to relax and let loose, and during those days, he's lazy and he's condescending, judgy and a little bit mean, and these are the absolute worst moments for you to be brat. 

But all of these are only half of him, because this man is probably the most dedicated and enthusiastic sub in the world. He'll do absolutely everything he's told and then beg for more. Way too eager to humiliate himself for you. Also very, very vocal, he'll cry, whine and beg and will also never fail to let you know just how obsessed he is with worshiping the ground you walk on. 

4. Chan

Also a switch, but it takes months, if not more, for you guys to get there. He's a leader by nature, used to having a lot of responsibilities and a lot of control over the things around him. He likes to be in charge, knows how to do it, and loves the responses he gets. Probably one of the best doms out there because even though you have a safe word, he's so fucking careful with you at all times that he knows to slow down before you even have to think about using it. It only happened once, and your voice still rings in his head - he still hasn't forgiven himself for it. 

But since he's so observant and trusts you to put a stop to whatever is going on in case you need to, he feels free to go crazy. Unlike Jeongin, he likes to hear you cry, likes knowing he has that power over you and the fact you know how easy it is for him to absolutely wreck and ruin you, but still allow him to go crazy, drives him wild. Trust is probably what gets him off the most, he absolutely adores how you give up control and leave yourself at his mercy. 

But then again, as your relationship strengthens and he slowly realizes that maybe he doesn't always have to be the one to do it all, that others can take care of him too, that he can actually let loose and renounce all control, you start to see another side of him. 

He's an exemplary sub, not one brat bone in his body. He tries sometimes to test you, but he goes back to being doe eyed and whiny for you in no time. He's not as vocal and not as eager to let all his enthusiasm show, but just like Felix, he'll do absolutely anything you tell him, and then thank you for allowing him to do it. 

5. Han

Another switch. He can be a dom and he can be a sub, but I think there are two other sides of him. This man will go back and forth between being the absolute, most cocky motherf on the planet, to being absolutely wiped and wrapped around your finger. And while these for aspects of him can pair up in any way, leaving you with a teasing dom, a loving and soft one, or a bratty sub that will try to make you prove to him just how badly you need him to worship you and so on, I think he's not always like this.

You can't really tell whether there's a pattern, but maybe if you spent more time together you'd be able to spot one. Maybe it depends on how his day went, how tired he is, how his social batteries are like at the moment, but I think there are many, many days when this man just needs to feel you, to smell you, hear you. To collapse into the sheets with you, forget about the world and melt in your arms. Yeah, he's down to try a lot of stuff, but what he loves the most are the simple things. Like missionary late at night, with the lights on so he can see every glimmer of anything in your eyes, to wipe the sweat off your temples and to be able to smother you with kisses. Impromptu sex in the morning, lazy sex in the shower, cuddling that turns into you riding him on the couch while watching a movie. That's what I think he's into the most.

6. Changbin

Thank god this man is not the kinkiest because he'd probably break you in half and no amount of aftercare would be able to fix that. This man goes hard. No matter if you're the one that woke him up, all needy and clingy, or if he came home riled and ready to go, he's already ready to give you his all. That dumptruck isn't there for nothing, he doesn't even have to try that hard to make you scream. 

But it's not just physical, he goes all out in all ways. He doesn't just want you on your back, legs spread open so he can eat you out, no, you have to be on his face, full weight down on top of him, and you have to ride. Other than that, you don't really have to do much, because he's a sucker for handling you. He'll hold up your weight when he fucks you against the dresser and he doesn't mind being the one who gets rid of all the clothes in the way when he randomly decides he wants to fuck you bent over the kitchen table. 

So I don't think he needs much more than you two already have. Of course, he's usually fine with trying things you're into, and yeah, he likes them, but that's just more like 'fun' to him. He's not the kind to call you degrading names or spank you until you cry, through he might enjoy a little bit too much seeing his hand print on your ass or the bruises he left on your hips just from hard he was holding onto you while fucking you into oblivion.

Out of all the things you'd get him to try, I think one of his favorites would be wax play. He'll probably ask you to do it again, maybe like 3 months later. Also, one other thing that gets him going and that he still might be shy about it, is just how hard his cock twitched when you called him daddy. Oops. I don't like it, please do it again.

7. Seungmin 

Ok, again, disclaimer with this one. I wanna start by apologizing to Minnie and to all the Minnie biased readers that are here with us today, but I can't read this man. At all. And that's the reason I put him so low on the list because while I do have some ideas, associating him with certain kinks and stuff felt completely empty to me. Like I have no idea what he'd like? But in case you've read this far, lemme tell you what I did manage to come up with and please let me know how you see it!!

I think trust, communication and fun are the most important to him. I feel like he'd have so much fun guiding you and giving you instructions on how to do different things, from how to suck him off just the way he needs it, to how to use a toy on yourself. And I think it goes both ways, he'd love to have you tell exactly how and what to do at all times.

I also think he can be stern and commanding, serious and totally focused, but he also probably adores being a giggling mess, unable to control himself as you give him your all, worship him and make him feel absolutely cherished. I'm sorry, but I feel like this man thrives on love and appreciation. Other than that, my brain is empty, please help me!!

8. Hyunjin

Ok, maaaaybe I shouldn't have put him last. But fuck it. Sue me. I don't think he's kinky at all. I think that again, he'd be the type to try out most of the things you come up with, but I don't think he associates them with sex like that. I think it's just some form of fun you two have, I don't think there are too many crazy things that necessarily get him going. 

He's a romantic, ok? His main goal is pleasure. He's the kind to absolutely not give a shit about anything, all that he needs is you. If he has you and a surface (not even mandatory) he's satisfied. He'll do absolutely anything, worship every single inch of your body. The kind to kiss his way up your leg before eating you out, to kiss you before you even finished swallowing his cum. Nothing to him is gross, to him, bodies are beautiful and made to be worshiped. He'd paint your body, lay back and allow you to do absolutely anything you want to him, he's just full of want and passion. 

I don't think he'd ever be the kind of person to associate pain or humiliation with pleasure. Like he knows they're valid kinks and will not shame anyone about it, but with him, you have to feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, loved, cradled and appreciated in absolutely every way. 

Absolutely the type to eat your ass and then be like "What? People don't do that?". Doesn't think spitting in each other's mouths is degrading because, "We literally kiss all the time, what?" 

Will ask you to slap him just to see what it's like but will probably malfunction if you ask him to do it to you. 

I think he'd be down for a lot of stuff, but doesn't see any of them as kinks. Doesn't need any of them. They don't get him hard. It's all just for fun. 

Please let me know what you thought!! I'd love to talk about this!!! ❤️

[qiwoomi]

officially yours (his)

gojo satoru x fem! reader

fluff, established relationship, marriage, modern au, slightly suggestive in the end

a/n: idk how long it's been, almost about a year but I'm back again. this time school isn't an obstacle anymore :] wrote this while seasons - wave to earth is playing in the background

If years ago you're telling the Gojo Satoru you would marry him, he would tell you it would be a dream out of reach. Because back then, he's not confident in himself to make someone as beautiful- inside and out as you happy. It might be because of his rough past, and he didn't want to risk you going through it as he doesn't want you to get hurt.

You are too delicate, too fragile that he's sure that he doesn't deserve you. Hell, he would even risk letting someone else have you if it meant you don't have to go through a single trouble that he always endures. Though he's used to it by now, but you don't.

So how is it possible that here he is, standing on the shoreline of the vast ocean of your dreams, his shoes a little drenched and stained with sand. But never mind all that. His eyes are on you, teary and red though it won't fall. His lips are trembling, he wants to say something, but he knew that he would be sobbing and he promised himself that he won't ruin the ceremony that unite both of you in sickness and health.

There you are in your white wedding dress, your dream wedding dress, as you held the bouquet of flowers in your hand, keeping up a smile even though you're also on the verge of tears. Your eyes are blurry, but your father guided you to him, letting go of you as you're now standing in front of each other.

You allowed yourself to sniffle. Geto then starts doing the speech and declaration to officiate both of you in your wedding day, Satoru's eyes never fell from yours.

It's time to declare each other's wedding vows, which you anticipate. Satoru fixed his bow tie nervously, as you smiled.

"[Name], my love, my heart, my life, my everything." He starts, and his voice already cracked which earned a few laughs from your families and friends. He was full on sniffling, nose red as the first drop of tears stained his cheek. "First of all, I want to thank you a lot for everything you've done for me. Taking care of me even when I'm whiny and clingy, even though I stained your shirt with my snot as you patted me to sleep. Always being there to comfort me because you know that I'm not fine, even though I insist I am. You always knew before me, and this is one of the reasons why I fall in love with you." He manage to make through the first paragraphs, as onslaught of tears stained his cheeks again.

"Oh my god, I'm crying." He accidentally slipped into the mic, as chuckles are heard again. He's trying to wipe them off with his sleeves now. "Does anyone have a tissue?" He sniffled, as Geto handed him a q-tip. He tried wiping his tears with them, as it didn't do as much. "What does a q-tip gonna do? I need a tissue." He sniffled again, only realising the tissue in his breast pocket when you pointed them out.

"Ah, thank god." He sniffled, as he tried to compose himself while wiping his tears. Now the audiences were laughing, which makes you laugh too even though you're also about to drown in tears. "Okay." He cleared his throat, lifting up the paper in his view which is stained by droplets of tears.

"I'm sure that even if I continue listing them down, words wouldn't be enough to express my love to you- because it runs deep. And it is dangerous, at least this is what I thought when I was so young and naive, still learning what real love means." He sniffled. "But I got addicted to it, you're too addictive that I'm sure the thought of you will never go away. Everyday I wake up, I'm thankful that I even get the chance to be with you. And I try to make it last, even though temporary, these fleeting moments is my motivator."

He inhaled, before reading the next last paragraph. "My love, I want you to know that this has been my dream for the longest time. And to see and experience myself to be officially yours is a dream come true. I'm yours, always yours from the start and eternally. I promise myself from the start, and I want you to know that I'll always be with you no matter in sickness or in health, in the hardest days of your life or the easiest. I love you wholeheartedly in all versions of yourself. My heart, I have devoted myself to you, and should you think that I'm not, I'll always remind you through my actions. I love you, my [Name], my wife now and forever."

Gojo Satoru managed to finish, his tears are now at bay only for it to stream continously again when it's your turn to recite your wedding vows. It is safe to say that Gojo Satoru cried more than you, and he took 1 to 2 business days to process your marriage before finally going back to his 'normal' safe. And you love him all the same.

bonus:

It was late on your wedding night, after making love with him. You laid on his chest, catching your breath as he caressed your hair, his eyes on the ceiling as if lost in thought. It was quiet, but you love it.

"My love?" He starts, his eyes now on you, admiring your features. His hand on your hair is so comforting, that it took you a second to answer him. "Mhm? What is it baby?" You asked, looking up at him with sincereness and love in your eyes.

He pouted, frowning a little. Whatever it is that's weighing on his mind, you want to make it go away. "I'm sorry for ruining our wedding. I just can't hold it- you know. I never thought we would go this far." He mumbled, as you now start cupping his face, making him look into your eyes.

"Hey, it's fine. You know, I love that you're not afraid to show your true self. I love you. You make the wedding more memorable." I reassured him, speaking softly that he might even fall asleep to my voice.

Satoru didn't answer, though it's evident he's happy to know your thoughts now that his frowns and pout go away. "I love you too. You know, we're not even done for the night." He teased, now going back to his 'normal' self.

You slapped his chest playfully, though there's no denying it when your cheeks are flushed.

a/n: this is inspired from one of the videos I came across on ig (iykyk) I wish I copied the link but I lost it ☹️ the video literally screams satoru and you can't fight me.

EDIT: HERE'S THE LINK GUYS!!!

© @qiwoomi

est. 250324

do not copy, translate or repost my work.

[russellsppttemplates]

She fits right in (Oscar Piastri)

You meet Oscar's family back home

Note: english is not my first language. I know I said write based on the order you send them in, but this one got priority for obvious reasons! 🫶

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"How long is the layover?", you asked Oscar as you put your backpack on properly once you took off your cardigan since you felt quite hot, "three hours", he replied, "we can go to the lounge and have some food first, freshen up", he suggested.

"Uuuuhh, freshening up in a public bathroom before I meet your parents in your childhood home, charming - you didn't have to make it so easy for me, Osc", you offered, going up to him so he could lace your hand in his and guide you through the airport.

Even you though you had travelled to see a couple of races from the garage, you had always kept inside Europe so long hail flights like this weren't something you were used to. You felt tired, sweaty, a little bit dirty from touching things everywhere and overall not that great. Still, it was a privilege to feel like this because of the reasons you did.

You found yourselves a table and made your order, Oscar staying there while you freshened up in the bathroom. Baby wipes, deodorant, brushing your teeth and washing your face would have to do for now.

"Do you feel a little more human?", he asked you once you sat back down, kissing his cheek soflty as he forwarded you your iced latte.

"Yes, actually I do", you snickered, taking a sip before speaking again, "are you sure your parents are fine with this whole arrangement?", you wondered.

"They're fine with it, you shouldn't be nervous, they already like you", he reassured. You had met his parents briefly when they travelled to see him race in Silverstone, but with the whole event taking up the schedule, you got to know eachother on a somewhat superficial level. Still, if the first impression was that good, it was a nice start.

"I'm not nervous nervous - at least not in the way I think I'd be, but is probably the jet lag and my body can't afford to have a freak out right now", you joked.

The last flight was spent with you sleeping on Oscar, arm rest up while you were cuddled up to his side, head nuzzled on his neck while he watched something to keep himself entertained and not get lost on his thoughts.

His family's opinion mattered to him and he was nervous to truly hear it. Not because of you - he was sure you were going to do brilliantly, but it wouldn't be the first time in history where seeing things up close, whether it was the lifestyle associated or being faced with what staying in a relationship looked like in the long run, made people leave. His parents had met your briefly before and now you were being introduced to everyone else. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, the neighbour he knew growing up. Everyone's eyes would be on you, and so would their opinions.

Rubbing your cheek softly, Oscar coaxed you out of sleep, "we're about to land, gorgeous, you might want to pop your ears", he muttered as you blinked your eyes open, kissing his palm before sitting up straight, doing as he told you before you fixed your hair, "do I look nice enough?", you wondered.

"You always look gorgeous", he assured, kissing your cheek softly.

You boarded off the plane and walked to the customs service, "they're quite quick at this time of year since a lot of people travel foe the race", Oscar explained as you were quickly checked before you walked to baggage claim, getting your suitcases and stopping twice to take photos Oscar's fans asked once they noticed it was him, "we're counting on a good race for you!", they wished as you smiled, handing them the phone back and waving once you walked to the spot Chris said him and Nicole would be waiting for you in the parking lot.

"How was your flight, dears?", Nicole was the first to speak as she embraced her son, followed by Chris.

"It was good, didn't have much turbulence", Oscar said as he saw your mother engulf you in a hug.

"It was nice, yes", you smiled, "very tiring getting to the land down under, I have to admit", you chuckled.

"Oh, that it is! Last time we did it, I felt so dirty I immediately went to the bathroom to shower once we got home", she giggled.

"I might actually do that, if you don't mind - my whole body just feels icky", you admitted, knowing you had arrived at early hours in the morning already and you shouldn't make much noise to the people who wanted to sleep.

"Of course it's fine! C'mon, let's pack the car and head home!", Chris encouraged you as he put the luggage on the car trunk while you got inside the car.

By the time you got home, Nicole encouraged you to head straight for the shower you so much needed while Oscar got something to eat. When you exited the ensuite bathroom, your boyfriend was unpacking his own suitcase.

"If you don't mind, I'll unpack those tomorrow? Or in the morning? What time is it already?", you muttered as he had closed the blinds, leaving the room completely dark with only the bedside lamp on.

"It's fine, love", he smiled, kissing the top of your head, "you smell nice", he chuckled, squeezing your waist softly before he went to have a shower.

Maybe it wasn't the most polite, but this was going to be your room for the next couple of days considering you had flown in early so Oscar could spend as much time as he could with his family, so you undid the bed. The fresh sheets enveloped you as you tied your hair in a messy bun just to get it away from your eyes.

The last thing you remember coherently is Oscar laying next to you, pulling you to cuddle up to him and kissing your forehead sweetly with a "Goodnight, my love".

You woke up a few hours later, looking at your watch and see that it was already past midday and you were in bed, "morning", you heard Oscar's groggy morning voice whisper into your back, littering kisses on your shoulders.

"Hey", you smiled, turning around and seeing his handsome smiley face, "it's the afternoon already", you pointed out.

"It usually is when I wake up after coming back home", he shrugged his shoulders, "my parents are used to it. Also, they said they'd be having lunch at my grandma's, so they're not home - it's probably why it's so quiet".

"Do they want us to meet them there?", you wondered, not wanting to part your boyfriend from his family.

"We can if you don't mind", he added, "you could meet my grandma, too!", he tried to see if you felt comfortable with it.

"Yes! Let me just get ready quickly!", you smiled, pecking his lips and leaving the bed.

"Why so excited?", Oscar asked as you were leaving his parents' house after having something quick to eat and you got your latte.

"You have told me many stories from your grandma and grandma's house is always the best!", you winked at him before you wiggled your brows.

"What do you mean it's always the best?", he quirked a brow.

"Grandma's are the ones who have the best photo collections in the family - C'mon Oscar, it's going to be so fun!", you joined your hands together in a cartoon villain like way, fingertips touching as you made a mischief expression.

"Did Lando set you up for this?", Oscar said as he unlocked the car.

"Yes! The more I get, the more Quadrant hoodies he says he'll get me!", you winked, pulling his arm to the car so he could drive you both to his grandparents' house.

"Can we come in?", Oscar announced as you both walked in through the back door, seeing his parents sat at the table while an older lady was doing something at the kitchen counter.

"Oscar, my love!", she yelled, wiping her hands on the nearest kitchen towell before she threw herself at her grandson, hugging him tightly while you greeted Oscar's parents briefly.

"And this is the young woman who stole Oscar's heart, how are you, sweetheart? You're very welcomed here!", she said, pulling you in for a tight hug immediately.

"I'm Y/N, thank you for welcoming me into your home, it's beautiful", you smiled warmly.

"Have you two had something to eat? I can make you something quickly if you'd like!", she asked and you both shook your head, "I'm good, but thank you".

"I was actually getting ready to make some Lamingtons and some Rum Balls, too. Y/N, has Oscar ever baked them for you?", she mused.

"No, I don't think he has", you looked at him for confirmation as he shook his head, blush erupting on his cheeks, "I would never make them as good as yours!", he defended himself.

"Well, darling, I'm going to make some for you too then!", she smiled.

"I'd love to help if you want a hand, maybe then I'll pester Oscar to make them for me back home", you smiled.

"Oh, good! Let's get started then!", she exclaimed, getting you an apron and guiding you through the recipe.

"You can beat these while I measure the flower", she delegated, "it has to be very fluffy so the sponge is firm enough", she advised as you beat the contents inside the bowl.

"How is that going?", Oscar asked coming up from behind you as you were transferring the batter to the lined tin.

"I need to use the bathroom, dear, but when you finish that, can you put it in the oven and take the other one, please?", she questioned, "this way we'll have a new batch to work with everytime", she smiled before excusing herself.

"How is she really doing with you?", your boyfriend waited for a honest answer.

"It's been really fun, truly! She's been telling me stories about when she was younger and what growing up here was like, she fed me some of those things, those rolled up things", you pointed at the plate on the counter.

"Those are rum balls! Love, you don't even like rum!", he pinched your cheek before you out the tray in the oven.

"I wasn't going to break her heart and tell her no, and they're not that bad! Just not my favourite things ever!", you reasoned with him, wiping your hands on the kitchen towell, "but it's been good, she's very lovely - and I am this close at getting to your baby stories", you pinched your thumb and poster finger together.

"You're impossible", he chuckled, stealing a kiss from your lips before his grandma got back.

"She's a lovely girl, Oscar", his mother said as she sat down next to him on the chair on the decking outside as they saw his father gather the supplies for a barbecue. His grandmother suggested and afternoon barbecue for when you were done with baking.

"I'm very happy I brought her home to meet everyone", Oscar smiled, "she's really one of a kind".

"Is she dealing well with all of this? I'm sure she's not used to it", Nicole wondered, "people taking pictures, interrupting your day to day lives, you're not always there for her", she trailed off.

"Well, neither am I, right?", Oscar chuckled, "I think she's been doing well, we speak about it every now and again to check and make sure we're both well with all of it. We don't post eachother much, that's been helpful, and she has all her social media private".

"It's nice, she's an incredible young woman, and you two are so great together", Nicole complimented.

"I think I was more nervous to come out here than her, to be honest", Oscar said, prompting his mother to raise her eyebrows, "not because of her! I was nervous because she's the first person I've brought home - like, home home - and I didn't know how you would react with her being here and everything. It's not like it's a dinner and she can run away or leave for her own place if she feels uncomfortable or if you guys didn't like her", he trailed off the last part.

His family's opinion mattered to him, and as romantic as it often sounded in movies, he wasn't sure how he would proceed if his family strongly felt against your relationship.

"Well, on our end, we're fine", his mother nudged his shoulder, "she's so lovely, Oscar, you would be a fool if you let her get away from you. She's smart, caring, loving - she fits quite well with grandma", she pointed to you two with her eyes as the older lady taught you how to dip the cake in the chocolate and then the coconut, laughing together as you seemed to get more on your hands than on the actual sweet food, "she loves you dearly, I can tell. Of course we approve. But, if she wants to make a run for it, well - that's going to be a little bit tricky at the very least", she joked as she saw her mother help you with a kitchen towell, "though that doesn't look like it's going to be anytime soon".

You fit right in with his family and he couldn't be happier.