#Name meaning is my favorite way of doing it

[tonycries]

Like a Dog!

Synopsis. Jealous? How cute. He’s yours - and he’ll fúck you until you won’t forget it.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, jealousy s, marathons, NÉEDY BOYS, dúmbifícation, proposals, creampíes, praise, GOJO’S POWERS, márking, they’re YOURS, true form Sukuna, dp, Sukuna’s tattoos, cervíx kíssing, fitting it, talking you through it, p slápping, p talking, ex-husband!Toji, spítting, comfort, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Wedding vows!

“Soooo…” Toji’s sneaking long, languid drags of his fat thumb up and down your sappy folds. And it makes your breath hitch, your thighs quivering just in time for him to sidle two staggering palms underneath and stretch. Wide open. “-still...jealous, doll?”

Ruining you for what seemed like copious hours upon hours non-stop, that very same question left Toji’s scarred lips in cloudy little pants like a smug mantra. 

The bed was recklessly creaky at this point, splinters cracking with every sloppy pound that had your sanity doing much the same. 

And Toji’s crushing you against the clammy mounds of his Herculean pecs, heaving. Gasping. So, so needy that just about all you can do at this point is bumble out an embarrassed little, “Wh-why?”

“Because m’yours, mama.” Whining as his sheeny-lathered lips snicker from right beside your tender ear, and his mushroomy tip grazes right down his favorite target of your treacly slit. Slow. Steady. “And I hafta prove it.”

Nevermind the fact that he was talking like he wasn’t your ex-husband of just a few days. 

Nevermind the fact that you’re sure the pulpy depths of your poor cunt was already utterly bruised and battered with the exact bulky circumference of Toji’s proud crownhead. Because Toji Fushiguro could never dream of being with another.

He’s tugging you even more pliably into this mean full nelson of his, squeezing out a thick few dewdrops of buttery pre that lather your puckered hole. Rotund, curvaceous mound of his fattened head swirling patterned circles at your snug hole around and around-

“Don’ tell me this pretty pussy’s hngh- forgotten about me already?” He’s murking out, planting exactly three simpering swats! to your slick-flooded entrance before sinking in- “Heh- yeahhh that’s what I fuckin’ thought.”

Because your drooling cunt was always so greedy for him - your bloated pussy lips struggling and hungry being opened oh-so-widely agape. It made your slackened maw lather with a fresh wave of saliva at the sheerly raw stretch.

“Good girl- good fuckin’ girl takin’ all of me.” Toji’s huffing out, head tilting sleazily to the side to take in every inch of the heavenly bouquet envisioned right below him. “Bet ya missed me all deep inside, huh? S’that why you’re gettin’ all jealous over some rando?”

But, of course, the silent treatment never worked on Toji - and you’re finding him cooing, “Awww, c’mon my wife-” Such pointed, loving emphasis, “-talk to me. Lemme hear those pretty noises.”

And you hate the way that his rumbling baritone tilts into something mockingly higher. You hate the way that his bludgeoning tip rims around your gooey slick-filled entrance and makes your voice crack.

“T-talking about ah- jealous-” You’re managing out, and Toji’s willowy eyes widen ever-so-slightly at the way you can manage out coherent syllables even through each punctuating drill. “-but I ngh- saw the way you looked at my coworker, you green-eyed m-monster.”

He’s scoffing, spanking your overstuffed pussy once. Twice. Thrice just for good measure. “Feisty, aren’t you, mama?”

And every minute wiggle is dampered helplessly by the way that he’d curled two large forearms - muscular and veiny - around your legs to embrace you tightly. Chin rested over your head, “He was only bein’ nice-”

“And nice isn’t gonna get your hngh- cute cunt sucking like as slut like this.” Toji’s rolling his eyes, “Don’t joke with me now, doll, spread those pretty hngh- legs n’ lemme see her. No need to be shy.”

Massively engulfing hands of his crown the topped curve of your dangling knees and mold you to every one of Toji’s lecherous whims until you almost do feel shy. But there was absolutely nothing shy about the way that he was now leering at you.

Hot breath wafting with the sound of a low whistle, “Shiiiit- pretty lil’ thing, huh? Don’tcha know how much m’weak for ya? Why the fuck would I ever wan’ anyone else? Silly girl…”

“S-stop- staring—” You’re whining out, fingers tangling through the tresses of Toji’s darkly silken bangs and pulling. A blasphemous little action that earns you a heavy-handed thud of his bloated head into your soppy cervix. 

“How can I not stare, mama- she’s mine, isn’t she?” And there was something in his tone, something…edged and rough- and you swear that Toji was the one that sounded somewhat jealous. Sounded gone. “And I’m yours, of course.”

Ruined every time his ruddied tip was skimming past the syrupy adhesive-like maze of your insides and thumping right into the targeted bullseye of your cervix. 

He’s so hot underneath you - feverish. The ridged ladders of his washboard abs slipping and sliding a lewd massage underneath your back. And the feeling is so heavenly that you’re wondering why you ever signed those divorce papers in Higuruma’s office in the first place.

“No needa worry- M’yours, doll-” Grit out. Harsh. Punishing as much as his deep strokes were messing up your poor insides. Making sure that you won’t forget. Voice seeping with something wild, “H-heh. Divorced or not- a d-divorce which won’t last for ngh- long anyway- I got every part of ya ah- fucking memorized, y’know? Think I’d do that for hngh- anyone else?”

“E-every?” Your legs and voice are wobbling like jelly at his words.

“Every.”

As if to prove his point, he’s thumbing gluttonously over the rounded outline of where he was rummaging your sodden walls. Shooting out a few wiry spatters of pre that almost fill you up to the brim - so much of it - once he’s gliding over with a few cocky touches.

“My favorite spot s’always here-” The tremors of his recoiling bounces into your spongy womb rattle your melty mind. You feel the jitters of his thick thigh muscles when he arches into a curve up, up, up. “-knock knock.”

“S-so…” Mumbling, shit- Toji was fucking you like he couldn’t get enough of you. “-filthy.”

He’s rolling his eyes at that little comment - you like it, anyway if that warm geyser streaming from between your mushy folds told him anything. 

“N’ I remember that your hngh- favorite spot was here…” Oh, you knew what he was doing - you knew exactly the way in which Toji’s dark brows would scrunch with rude delight when his strawberry divot slurs right past that magical spot. “Orrrrr…here-” Ramming resoundingly with his left-leaning girth in exactly the opposite way from the spot that only he could reach so well. Toji’s tongue pops out to lap at his sneaky dribble of saliva - he was loving this. “Whoops…maybe-”

“F-fuck-” You’re all but begging, your whimpers going straight to that forevermore bloated shaft of his. Pumping in a few horny ounces that make him grow even thicker, “-fine- fuck! Please-”

“Hm…” Toji’s tutting, bangs sticking to the plane of his prespired forehead as he shakes his head understandingly. Mockingly so. “What’s that?”

“Please-”

“Louder.”

“Please.”

He’s lolling out his tongue to lap at the salty pearls of tears beginning to waterfall from your fluttering eyes, “Say ‘please- husband.’”

The embarrassment and pure irritation curdling in your veins was strong, but your need - your throb from the wet patch between your legs, and that spot was even stronger. Shit, you needed him. “P-please…my husband.”

Ah, the words are barely spilling from your mouth, barely even reaching our own ears before Toji’s making you see white-hot pleasure flickering behind your lids. A drawling keen dragging out from your throat as soon as his curvaceous cockhead nuzzles up in a sweet, sweet hug into your g-spot. 

And your ears can only thunder with your heartbeat, your spine bowing as your husband plaps his fat cock into your most candied spots over and over and over-

“One more thing.” Something cool touches your face, and only seconds later do you recognize it to be a phone. Your phone. “Tell that lil’ loser of a coworker that yer hgh- married. And-” Another deafening pap! “-expecting.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Yours, always.

“I…I’m sorry, my love.” Nanami hisses - he heaves the moment his buttery-topped tip was sinking past your puckered entrance. And there’s a dangerous furrow between his neat, blond brows, “But I can’t have ya sayin’ anything bad about my wife.”

And he was so serious - seriously in love with the way you were gaping up with spit-flooded lips when one of his thick, calloused digits massage over your eagerly peaked clit with the chillingly golden band of his wedding ring. Matching with yours. 

Your fingers dig into the plane of your husband’s unfairly broad shoulders underneath his blue button-up, all rippling muscles and sheer dripping sex appeal. He hadn’t even bothered to take his office clothes before helping you…feel better. “Kento, I-I’m just sayin’ your new c-coworker is so much prettier-”

Thwack!

Only for him to cut you off with a heavy-handed spank to your treacly cunt, and a rumbling growl - rasping from beneath his stern lips once Nanami grants you with a filthy, filthy glissade of a French kiss. And you could taste him - taste yourself from his makeout with your slobbery pussy just before.

Your sticky slick lacquering his gummy lips in a candied glaze, slipping and sliding all the way down the dimpled edges of his grin, his chin, down below between his cushiony pecs- 

It was like a badge of honor, and Nanami Kento gladly and proudly adorned it.

You’re just leaking from that gooey spot between your legs when he’s back to pressing peck after peck on both your lips and your cushy g-spot. Dribbles of translucent slick drenching Nanami’s tawny happy trail - and his ring. 

One that’s pushed between your lecherously parted lips to swirl around that whiny cavern of your mouth, making you just shut up-

“G-gonna-” Clawing at his strong forearms, shocked that you were being halfway choked by your dear, gentle husband. “-gonna get dirty this way, K-Ken-”

“No, don’t mind getting…dirty if it’s you.” You’re hearing Nanami gasp from above you, murky pants of his shooting out in a rasping ah! ah! ah! And his droopily half-lidded eyes just bore into yours with sweet connection, “And I hate disrespectin’ my ngh- wife, this way but…but m’not gonna go easy on you tonight, darlin’.”

Fuck.

The bed sings out splintering creaks with every thud! of Nanami’s fatly bloated tip smooching up against your spongy cervix. Every bouncy bludgeon spurting out the most dewy ribbons of his precum from the very tip of his rounded crownhead. Proud and ruthless.

You can only wring your fingers through Nanami’s golden strands, unsticking stray locks from his prespired forehead. Babbles upon babbles spill from your lips, “I-fuck! Kentoooo- it f-feels so good.”

“Good, hm? Th-tha’s right-” Freely thumbing away a few puddly gumdrops of saliva that’d begun just spilling from the corners of your maw with every hit after hit- 

And every clashing pivot of his toned hipbones sting, heat blossoming up your spine in this sloppy mess of a mating press that Nanami had manhandled you into. But he needed more- more more more-

“S-shoooo good, Ken- right there-” Lewd little strings of hiccups are bubbling from your chest and wafting up between the bustling fingers still toying with your mouth and making you suck. Tongue swirling up the cold engraved metal of his ring as if your favorite honeyed lolly, “Always feels so ngh- good havin’ you inside me-”

Too good.

Unable to help yourself from greedily clasping onto that dangling yellowy tie sticking to your sweat-simmered tits and pulling-

And oh, this makes Nanami gasp- free hand slamming! down onto the timber bedframe. This makes his hips hammer forward with a loudly ringing pap! Plummy, split cockhead probing into your cervix hard. 

Never slowing down, never stopping- hell, he doesn’t think he even could right now. 

“H-heh, my clever girl.” A kiss against your forehead. “My needy girl.” Your cheeks. Each side. “My ngh- beautiful girl- most beautiful girl in this world.”

There’s such utter and true loving in his foggy mahogany eyes that you almost feel shy. “D-don’t look at me like that, Kento.”

“Y’know I only h-have eyes for you, my love…” Accompanied by the digits rummaging deep inside your sultry mouth to reel back with a sodden plap! And dip down to caressingly pinch your plump clit, “C’mon- tighter. Mark me up. Tight.”

And there’s nothing you can do but listen to what he says.

How could you not?

Not when the ever-sensible Nanami Kento was begging - pleading - down at you to choke his velveteen tie even tighter around his attractive throat. Adam’s apple bobbing at your increasing strain, lightning bolts of veins thumping when you squeeze.

“Yeahhh- don’ be shy. Let everyone know- fuuuuck-” Bleary head falling back with every adhesive-like cling of your elastic walls - or, at least, trying to if it wasn’t for your chokehold with his tie. Nanami’s lips curl into an oh-so-feral snarl, head tilting to the side to chafe his own flesh with the ropey bruises of your actions. “-mark me up s-so that the whole office knows m’yours. And I…”

Fuck, you looked so cute fucked dumb and drooling on his fat dick like this. 

Nanami’s thick muscular thighs are shivering at this point, shovelling your own further and further upon the more he could feel himself losing his fucking mind. 

“And I’m gonna m-marry you.” Bumbling out over and over like a mantra now, Nanami was so pussydrunk that his rotund tip wasn’t even kissing up against the bullseye of your g-spot directly anymore. Breath hitching, “Gonna marry- hngh- needa marry. B-be your husband- and-” Just dragging out achy massages of his swollen length to lustre every gooey inch of you with layers on top of voluminous layers of his- cum? “Sh-shit.”

Because Nanami was cumming and he couldn’t stop. 

Heaps of weighty ropes splatter across your elastic channel, it’s swashing around in thick masses every time he’s fucking it back deeply into you. “I love you.”

CRACK! 

At this moment, you’re sure that it’s your mind splintering into a million pieces, and only many, many hours later do you realize that it’s your poor broken bedframe. Because you’re overspilling with drooling dredges of pearlescent seed and bliss when that finally pushes you over the edge, too. “K-Kentoooo-”

“Shhh sh sh- m’here Hold onto me-” he’s rasping out. Airy. Depraved. Like Nanami doesn’t even know that the words are leaving his lips. “So perfect…wanna marry you, darling.”

You can only blurt out a drunken giggle, “Ken- we’re ngh- already married.”

“Oh…then…you already know m’yours…” Nuzzling his face into his favorite hideout at the crook of your neck, Nanami’s words are almost cracking into a whine - a plea for the very first time in his life. “-body and soul.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - XOXO

“Why hello to you, too.” You flinch when Geto snickers once his sneaking fingers massage downwards to pry open your thoroughly puckered and drooling pussy lips. He wasn’t talking to you. “Wanna help me make my girl all happy again?”

And he’s humming along, throwing your pliable legs easily over his sculptured shoulders with an understanding nod. “Mmmm- needy one, aren’tcha?”

“You’re s-such a tease.” You’re huffing out, brows knitting in a way that only made the pretty man above you kiss away. 

“And you’re such a green-eyed lil’ monster.” He’s purring back, a rasping growl leaking its way into Geto’s teasing words. “And as much as I love that ah- jealous pout on ya, gorgeous, better know it only makes me…harder.”

Geto’s snaking a hand to pry your drunkenly lolling head to veer downwards, chuckling at the way your droopy eyes widen when you’re taking note of his staggeringly bloated cock laid right there between your legs. Red and angry. So ready to pump the heated geyser between your legs full of his inches, that he can’t help but bawl out a ribbony string of pre smearing across your tummy. Enough so that you can almost taste it-

“What? What happened to my heh- snappy girl, huh?” Inky bangs mussing up when he’s cocking his head to simply leer. Such a sleazy look of depravity taking over all of his features, “Too big?” 

You’re shaking your head - gasping, “Y-yes but I want it- want you hck! inside me so badly, Suguru—”

“Say m’name like that n’ I’ll cum.” He’s rolling his eyes, truly unabashed and greedy. With a sopping wet plap! Geto’s planting your treacly slit with a spank, only for you to be presented with the big beefy expanse of his pale forearm before you can even make a whiny noise. “Now, bite down and take it.”

You think you could sob when every long, girthy inch of his fills you up to your very brim. Bulky globular tip kissing past your gluey lips and mazing you open so widely around him, until your elastic walls were tautly stretched till you could feel every ridge, every thumping vein, every goopy spurt of warm pre that showered your melty insides. 

“Heh.” Fuck, Geto’s heart just lurches with something warm at that heart-eyed cross of your pupils. Such a pretty picture. “Can ya count how many inches f’me, gorgeous?”

Ah, you couldn’t think much less count with just how battering Geto was with his mindless ruts just to fit inside. Washboard abs flexing with every push, push, push-

You’re letting go of his heated flesh with a soppy pwah! bursting from your lungs. “E-eight?” Only to be hit with a messy thud! of his thick cockhead dragging down your mushy walls, throbbing veins thumping at your tenderized spots in time with your very heartbeat. Oh. “Nine?”

“Atta girl.” The calloused mountains of his palms covet underneath your thighs and manhandle you even closer to lock them around his neck. Tighter. “Got a whole nine inches j-just for you, alllll for this pretty pussy right here.”

You can’t help but feel like a fucking toy at the merciless hands of Geto Suguru - and he’s more than happy to pliantly jerk you around until you were halfway through sobbing at the sheer pounds after pounds.

Your glossed lips can only part open when he’s punctuating each thrust with a tug on the precious hood of your clit, and Geto was always the best with his fingers. Dipping and swirling them around dexterously to make you see flashing stars, “Sugu, it- It feels- so-”

“Louder.”

“S-Sugu-”

“Ah ah- louder.” Mahogany headboard clattering against the walls, about to break. To snap. Just as much as he was right about now. “Don’ hold back any fuck- pretty noises from me. The entire ah- place hasn’t heard ya yet.”

“Mhmm, does it feel hah- good when big bad Sugu is fucking you stupid?” Leaving a sweet little pap! of his blushing red tip particularly hard into your g-spot, you swear you could taste the bliss of his bumpy veins branding into your tenderized orifices. “When ya don’t have to think about ngh- aaaany of those silly things?”

And you couldn’t worry about anything - not that too-flirty new member of the association, not your jealousy - not when Geto was fucking each and every thought out of your poor mind. 

Barely even registering it even once one engulfing hand curls gently at the back of your neck to hide away your prespired face into the clammy crook of his neck. So pretty and supple when he’s guiding you to bite, “C’mon then- heh- mark me. Use me. Show off that m’yours.”

“Y-you’re enjoying this-” you’re whining, though, nosing away to pinprick littering bites that blossom and bloom, and show off even if he had his traditional robes on. 

“And you’re turned on.” He’s finishing off your never-ending mewls, head lolling backwards drunkenly to give you an even bigger canvas to work with. “Feeling me all deep inside-” Splaying out a palm along your tummy to feel for that cylindrical outline of something hard. Aching. Bumping up in wet smooches into your deepest spots. “Such a possessive lil’ thing milkin’ me. I need you to fuck me. Fuh-fuck me.”

Muttering, “Ngh- should- should fuck you in front of the whole cult to l-let them know.” Your murky huffs are laced with something grumbling that makes his fattened tip twitch. 

It’s only then and there that you hear notorious clan leader Geto Suguru whimper. For the first time ever in his life, breaking at the seams when your nails rake pretty red valleys down the mountainous expanse of his Adonis-like back. 

Flexing and rippling and fuck-

Fuck, Geto thinks he could almost cum right then and there at the awe-strucken expression smeared all over your face. The way your lips were curling with trickling rivulets of drool and you barely even realize.

“That’s right-” He’s cooing at your nonsensical babbling like it was his favorite conversation, and you’ve never seen him so fucked. So much like putty underneath your hands as you leave marks for days. Maw slagging open with a smirk, heady lids so heavy and hypnotized that they’re practically closed. “That’s right, that’s riiiight- That can be arranged.”

Your greedy fingerpads tangle with his silken locks and jerk in shock, syrupy sap leaking sobbing between your pursed lips and forming a little ring right at Geto’s hulking base once you’re registering what he said. “Can be- arranged?”

And ah- Geto knows he loves you. He really, really loves you. Marked and yours, he’s whispering, “Anything for my girl. Because m’yours and yours forever and ever.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “I-I’m yours…”

And not even the way that poor Choso was buried vulgarly deep into every syrupy nook and cranny of your pretty pussy would stop him from rambling those whimpering words. In fact, it was the opposite. 

He was so thoroughly pussydrunk that just a few sloppy sucks of our glutinous walls makes Choso’s heaving chest stutter mid-fuck. Drooling maw falling pathetically open at the sheen sprays formulating around his swollen, rose-pink shaft. 

So glossy and pretty that he feels hypnotized.

“Cho…” Only snapping half-awake once your trembly fingers dive into Choso’s slightly dampened chestnut locks. And the flutters of his long lashes are so adorable, “D’you ngh- mean that?”

“Of course! Don’t be silly, my baby–” And he can’t even believe what he’s hearing - you? The light of his life? Fucking jealous over a too-flirty sorcerer? God, if it wasn’t for the way that his breath hitches at the dewy cling of your mushy walls exactly around his sensitive underside, then Choso would’ve thought that he was dreaming. “You know you’re the ah! only one for me.”

And he meant it with every pound after papping pound of his plumpened, ruddy crownhead drawing spattered gashes into your rubbery channel. 

Rubbing over one slender thumb to trailway the peak of your buttony clit, Choso can’t hold back his keening whine at just how much wetter that makes your already-slobbering pussy. Swirling pressurized gyrations over and over, he’s muttering away, “G-gonna prove it- g’na make you cum- ngh- have to- ah fuck-”

“Oh- shit- B-baby, I can’t stop-” You’re whispering at the fountained squirt of your slick flooding the sultry non-existent space between you two - you’re so responsive today, and Choso thinks he could cum just from this. 

“Fuck me-” he’s dribbling through roughly parted lips, nose crinkling with utter bliss. “Fuck me- ngh- Yeah yeah yeah, milk me and make me yours, baby- only ever want you to milk me.”

You’re snickering with such utter loving in your eyes that it makes him shy. “H-heh, so cute when you’re fucking yourself so hah- deep in me like this, baby.”

He could whine, could beg your cute cunt for more. Could feel not even a mere inkling of embarrassment as his tongue lolls out like such a slut to slide glazy digits all the way into the back of his greedy throat. Dewy eyes shuttering at the sugarcoated taste of your sweet, sweet juices-

“Oh, but you sh-shouldn’t ever need to be jealous. I w-wanna…” he’s starting off with a tremoring wobble of his jutted, strawberry-pink lips. Thickly viscous coatings of saliva and your slick hanging off of them like a sticky second skin, “-wanna s-stuff my face between your pretty legs forever and ever, baby–”

And Choso couldn’t fucking believe the words were spilling from his mouth - he was supposed to be making his poor girl feel better. Supposed to be comforting you.

But these are so sinful that it makes your beloved boyfriend burn a bright blossoming red, such a pretty flush eating one the apples of his cheeks. One you can’t help but cup, “S’that all?”

Shit, Choso can feel his buttery pre coil out in a few soppy splotches that puddle at the end of your pulpy cervix, split-ended shaft making such a mess. His hefty breeder balls clench tautly at the teasing tone of your voice- dammit. He can’t cum before you.

“N-no.” Pearly white teeth sinking into his gummy bottom lip, Choso chews away as if it was his favorite candy. Trying so-very-hard to hold himself back. “Wanna fuck her- ngh-” And just one look– just one sneaking spy down at where he was disappearing back and forth always left him stupidly speechless. “-her…p-pretty lips until I…die. Think m’ngh- addicted, baby—”

He was so precious.

Tear-streaked face nuzzling the crook of your neck, dexterous fingers knotting around the bulky base of his length. And the only thing that Choso’s heavy tongue can jumble out is a mixture of your name and please- please please-

“Aww, Cho–” You’re prying his sweaty face away to gaze down ravenously into yours, and just the sweet eye contact is enough to make his skin even more feverishly blushing pink. “Are you close?”

“N-no…”

A lie - and both of you knew it.

Because Choso’s streaks of thumping veins down his sensitive cock always throbbed so much harder when it was building up. His dark lashes lacquering with a salty layer of tears, sculptured abs flexing and pulling tight when his sloppy hips pap! pap! pap! into your fleshy mounds like such an animal.

Choso has never felt more out of control - more and more like his sanity was fraying away with every bumpy nudge of his dewdropping rotund tip into your bouncy sweet spots. With every drag of your raking nails down his scalp in a way that makes him think he would fucking purr if he could-

“I…I lied.” He’s confessing like his greatest sin, one arm wrangling around your waist to smush your naked tits against his cushy pecs. Cozy. “M’gonna cum-”

“Cum f’me, Choso.”

Biting back a shrilling mewl at the lecherous use of his full name, he’s already feeling the white-hot shockwaves of his tightly teetering orgasm swirling around in his thwacking balls. Urgently latching two soft-padded fingertips onto your clit, Choso pinches-

And then you’re both cumming.

You don’t know who was first - but in the depths of your lust-filmed mind, you’re sure you tied for the hardest. Because you’re seeing ivory - or make that was just the thickly viscous globs of seed that verspilled from your knotted cunt. 

“Fuh-fuck me-” he’s gurgling out, reeling you into his glimmering, toned body so tightly. Usually so conscious of crushing you with his weight, but now you’re being pinned to the soaked sheets with every ounce of him. He’s melting into you, abs against your tummy, thighs against your own, head dripping into your throat to bite. “Love you- love you love you love- love being yours. And yours o-only.”

Clingy wads of seed sloshing out of you with every sensitive buck, Choso’s still fucking you through your high. Fucking you like he can’t stop the steaming hot piles of cum being poured out into your cozy pussy until you were flooded to the brim.

And through your black-tinged vision you can make out the hypnotized figure of him dipping down two ravaging fingers to smear the clingfilm of lustrous creamy white. Swabbing a generous helping before popping them into his dribbling mouth-

“Baby, did you know curses mate for life?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Cross my heart

“Hah- what was that again, silly human?” Sukuna’s crossing over his big beefy arms exactly how he knew you liked, and the way you’re ogling the powerful flexes of his biceps is just so darn cute. “Jealous? Repeat that f’me- for your king.”

As if you could. 

As if Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just fucking you stupid right now - for what seemed like hours and hours and hours. The fat globe of his bawling cockhead drawing a few trickles of sap down your battered g-spot each and every time. Every vicious rut arching perfectly off of his luxurious throne to leave wet plap! after plap! after plap! on your poor stinging mounds of flesh.

You were supposed to be riding him - but, of course, the king of curses had to steal your thunder. Had to shut up your shrilling whines by bumping his hips into you mercilessly. 

“Oi oi-” Two dark-nailed digits are slicking in front of your deliciously crossed eyes to snap you out of your cockdrunken little haze, and with a sharp snap! your pulpy cervix is being bludgeoned with three thick drags of one strawberry-ruby tip. He’s fisting his other matchingly swollen length with fat fingers, thumbing down those lightning bolted veins mouth-wateringly. “Don’t tell me yer tappin’ out ngh- already?”

Your mewls come out candied and so, so needy. Bonelessly jittery arms curling around Sukuna’s thick neck, to jerk your hips mere sultry inches down his soppily glazed shafts. “I-I’m- not- I was just…”

“And now yer fuckin’ running away.” He’s drawling out, and oh, you could tell that he was enjoying this. Monstrous mouth on his stomach spilling out a few greedy puddles of saliva at that oh-so-desperate pout on your face. Grinning. “Can’t talk but- ya can ah- run away? Where are ya going, huh? Lemme escort ya, brat.”

Before you can even blink, he’s baring you with such a feral grin. Plumpish lips pulled back to show off those elongated canines, rumbling snickers shooting out from between them the very moment Sukuna’s curling a staggering arm around the small of your back. Hard.

Crushing you against the sweat-simmers mountains of his cushiony pecs, you’re at the perfect deepened angle for his second mouth to just dote on the weep tip of your clit. 

“Sh-shit-” Your head tumbles airily backwards at the roughened smooch of his oversized tastebuds down your neglected clit, so hot and greedy that it makes you see stars. Mumbles slurring with every syllable, “Kuna i-it feels so good-”

“Well, duh.” Sukuna has no qualms rolling those glowingly demon-red eyes, plumpened cock swiping copious syrupy dewdrops around and around your puckered hole. “Dunno why ya think of all this- ngh! fuck- stupid shit…Ya really think I make jus’ anyone ah- feel like this?”

You’re huffing, knowing exactly the stupid conversation that got you here. “Not m-my fault- everyone in your court is always trying to be ngh! fuuuck- a-all over you and I just got a little jeal-”

“No shit, woman.” Fuck- you should’ve expected the punishing little pinch of his plushy fingerpads around your beaded nipples. And Sukuna can only tut, “Gettin’ jealous over low-lives for ngh- what? How m’I gonna get that cute lil’ brain of yours to f-finally understand, hm?”

And it’s like he was trying to drill that idea into you. In many ways.

Sukuna’s letting a third of his massive palms pucker up your swollen pussylips. Lecherously so.

Dancing his heated fingertips up and down up and down those saturatedly puffed-up edges before letting the hefty hilt of his stacked shaft fall in a weighty smack! Once. Just enough to make you sound out a shocked yelp at the messy French snog of his second cock down your treacly slit.

Slow and languid - the complete opposite of how vigorously he was now filling you up with those exact inches. “My jealous girl- ngh- one’s not ‘nough, right? Good thing your Kuna has two.”

Yeah, his size was incredible. 

Your parted lips couldn’t stop quivering, couldn’t stop streaming out geysers of cockdrunk spit at just how close you felt to bursting. 

Because his girths were plugging you mind-numbingly full, thumping veins massaging in sweet little glissades down the most treasured sweet spots of your walls. Two of Sukuna’s fingers dip downwards to spread your bulging lips, using every ounce from years upon years of battle just to buck. Up, up, up-

“Sh-shit—” he’s hissing underneath his headily cloudy breath, jaw clenching at the velvety slide of himself stuffing you doubly full. And if Sukuna thought that he wasn’t handling this well, then he wasn’t ready to gaze with glazed eyes up at you. “So- tight. Look at that bulge. Feelin’ full, brat?”

Yes. You could almost sob, pulling on those bubblegum curls at the base of Sukuna’s neck when he’s only pivoting to sink in even deeper. Yes yes yes yes-

“Good. G-gonna make a biiiig mess- here-” You’re whimpering brokenly at the sharp throb of one index of his probing about halfway down your tummy, where Sukuna’s sweltering hot tips were scouring. “-maybe then ya won’t forget who’s yours.”

“M-mine?” You’re blinking your droopy eyes up at him, and shit- he can feel his regal cheekbones burn at the pretty sight.

Drooly little squelches are wafting off from underneath you after every battering ram of an innocent peck up into your goopy depths. And Sukuna only matches the slurping sounds back up above when he latches his lips onto yours.

“Kiss me- kiss me proper.” Your maw dangles open drunkenly with a prying tug from one of his thumbs, “Lick-” And it’s so fucking filthy that you can feel your slobbering pussy lacquer with another candied wave of slick, flooding between your legs and helping you slip and slide in lewd gyrations of his lap. A mess that his excess mouth gladly laps up. “Spit.”

You do - letting the gleaming thick wad splatter onto Sukuna’s eagerly awaiting tongue and lather his mouth even wetter. And you right along with-

With your orgasm taking you by surprise - fuck. Right at the moment your dripping cunt pecks his twin hilts. 

You hadn’t even noticed the way it was building up and up and up- not until you’re letting your eyes sprint to the sluggish back of your head with a moan. 

“I-I’m-” Barely able to stutter out, stomach piling hotly with the shockwave of your high and the pleasurably liquidly masses of Sukuna’s buttery pre. Even more as he watched you fall apart. “-cumming—!”

“I know I know, nasty girl. Fuckin’ filthy.” He’s planting heavy-duty pound after pound to permanently brand all those spots, your cervix, everywhere and anywhere with the rounded circumference of his bloated cockheads. Swiping off those miniscule splatters of remnants, grumbling - with such a content smile. “Gotta work on your h-heh aim, though. Notice anything, brat?” 

Notice? What was there to notice? You muse you could barely even think - barely even breathe with the way that your mind was still jolted with your orgasm. With the way that Sukuna’s bustling cocks were stretching your gluey walls permanently open and-

Oh.

Oh.

That’s when your lust-filmed eyes see it - the tattoo. Nothing out of the ordinary to see Sukuna with a cursed marking on his tongue, but what came right after was what had you gasping…your name. Inked right on his flesh.

“Next time ya get- tch…jealous, m’ngh- tattooing your name here-” Drifting down his clawed digits from your hips and over to his own. And then up to his heart. He was dead serious. Planting your agape mouth with a sappy kiss, “-and fuckin’ ya in front of the whole court, my silly human.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - Casual?!

Sure, this arrangement with you was supposed to be casual but…one simple hangout with friends later and Ino Takuma knows you’re the only one he’d ever want to see walk down that damn aisle. He knows.

Because you’ve got your trembly legs practically padlocked greedily around the slender curve of his toned waist, your slobbery folds greedily drooling down every curvaceous inch of him. And oh, he can’t help but let off a quiet whine at the grumpy furrow in your brows, “W-wan’ more, Taku–!”

More. 

More. 

More more more that made his peachy-pink tip drivel out a few slippery douses of pre down your rubbery walls like your favorite sort of icing. Only adding to the complete and utter mess he’d already made-

“Are ya sure?” Ino’s drawling out, mean hips angling to skim just past the bruised and battered orifice of your g-spot. Slowly puckering up in a French kiss against your cervix, he’s catching a thumb down the eager globs of cum from just before that were now sloshing out of you. Teasing it into his mouth, “Yer already so f-full, pretty- Hmmmm, maybe we should just hngh- rest now-”

Ah, he knew exactly what would happen.

Exactly how it would only take three curls of his fat thumb up and down the lustrous layers of buttery seed that were staining your puffy pussylips for you to snap. To let out a cloudy pant of swears before planting your quivering feet flat on the plush mattress and flip the two of you over. 

Ino’s leaving a stinging spank once the mound of your ass rests right up against the tight curve of his rounded balls, slobbering a glossy snail trail all over his heated skin in a way that make him groan. “Ohhh, love it when yer rough w’me like this.”

“Just one more…” He’s not even sure if you knew just how lethal that pout of yours was, fingers digging into his scalp to pull on his silky chestnut locks. And Ino lets you. Fuck- he lets you. “Want to be s-sure that next time, everyone knows you’re mine.”

Oh. Ino can feel his neat brows raising, hips rummaging upwards into your gluey depths with a mindless slam! “Holy shit. I-is that what this is- you’re ngh- jealous?” Latching onto the pivoting motions of your hips, “That’s so fucking hot.”

Indeed, and who knew that a flirty waitress would leave you fucking the sanity out of him like this. 

Ino’s finding himself keening at the smaller digits of yours staking your nails and your claim all over his pretty tawny hair, his throat, his pecs. Marks upon marks upon marks-

“Hah- fuuuuck- you jus’ feel so ngh- good, baby—” you’re practically purring, jerking your hips to mush his fattened mushroom tip into your sweetest spot with practice. Up and down and Ino can’t look away. “Makes me wanna k-keep ya all to myself.”

“Oh yeah?” He’s quirking up one brow, and you can’t help but find it so rawly sexy the way he does it. “S’that what you hngh- want? Wanna keep me until ya-” Both of you hissing when he’s grazing his soft fingertips across the creamy wads of cum spilling from your soppy slit. Before pushing it back in- “-until ya milk me dry, pretty?”

He was always so mean with his mouth - but the way that Ino was arching his spine the perfect curvature off of the drenched sheets was even meaner. 

Choking out through long, unsteady heaves of his pronounced pecs, “Shit, greedy girl. D-don’t know if I even can cum anymore, y’know?”

“Just one more?”

“Dammit…dammit! Ya know I can’t- ah- resist ya.” He’s tutting, “Just oooone more for m’girl?”

Deep, vulgar strokes plap! plap! plapping! against your own sloppy staccato. Vicious. Hard enough that the excess ribbons of cum smear and sludge all inside your tight entrance. It feels so completely lecherous that you don’t even hesitate before craning one set of fingers behind your back to graze over his puckered ballsack.

Tender touch making Ino’s jaw drop with a whine -  a whine. 

“Y-you vixen–” Soft hair splaying out across the pillowcase like a halo when he’s throwing his head alllll the way back, matching the way his eyes slide behind until all you can see are those ivory whites. “Fucking take it then, always ruinin’ me with this p-pretty pussy o’ yours.”

“S’that so?” You’re musing, teeth sinking into the tender spot right at his left earlobe. And Ino’s face is so sweaty and flushed nuzzling into yours, streaked with a cherry-red blush that looks oh-so-cute. “No need to be shy about it, Taku–” 

“F-fuuuck- don’ say my ngh- name like that.” And there’s something in the way he giggles all pussydrunkenly, “Gonna make me- cum again- Fuuuck, only you could m-make me like this.”

Oh?

So very drunk off of you and the clingy smooches your sloppy cunt was leaving on his rock-hard length that he just couldn’t stop babbling. Faster. Couldn’t stop running his kiss-bruised mouth with every thwacking thrash! against your magical spots, dotting gumdrops of dangerous pre with every single jackhammer. Sloppier. 

And that smile on your face is heavenly. “Say that again, baby?” But your words are devilish.

As if to whisper his deepest darkest secrets in hoarse, breaking whimpers into your ear, Ino’s curling his dextrous inches of fingers around your throat. Hauling you greedy centimeters closer until his heady breath was bouncing in warm puffs off of your features, in awe taking you in. Drooling. Blushing. Syllables drowning in embarrassment, “Only you can ah- fuck me stupid like this- o-only you…m’yours.”

“Gonna hafta let hngh- everyone know then-” you’re humming, voice so silky smooth but Ino’s ruddied cock could feel the sweltering hot gushes as you only got wetter. “-I’ll be ah- showing you off then-”

“Mhmm– yeah- yeah, whatever you say, sweetness.” He’s sighing underneath his breath when your bounces only grow more vicious. “Proper name, place name…backtory stuff.” Face drooping into the strained crook of his neck and- oh.

And then you bite him and Ino thinks he sees the gates of heaven.

With you, straddling him right then and there like the angel you are. Your needy pussy swallowing up torrential ounces and ounces and ounces of his ribbony cum. The sappy masses mixing and meshing with the already-filthy puddle that he’d made before.

There’s just so much spilling from that strawberry pink divot peaking at his crownhead, that Ino’s entire body hunches over. Sweat-dampened forehead sticking to yours, shivers sprinting down his spine to where he was maintaining a vice-like grip plugging you full of his swirling cum.

Bleeding into his words when he’s muttering up at you through long, fluttering lashes, “C-can we hold hands when we go out now?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - WEAK

“M’not weak.” He’s spitting out, long snowy lashes fluttering with every sheeny glissade of your puckered pussy lips rovering up and down his achy, overused cock. Up and down up and down up and- “So ngh- m-mark me up.”

And it was just about the only thing that Gojo Satoru wanted - the only thing he yearned for - right after proving to you and everyone else that he was yours. 

He’d just finished smearing your prettily puckered lips with a thick lipstain of sappy cum, before manhandling you on top of him to ride him for hours and hours and hours. You’re so gorgeous milking his fucking soul, with Gojo’s own velvety blindfold dangling off of your neck.

Planting a long, exaggerated snog of his plump rosy lips on your sodden mouth, Gojo’s pulling away with a dramatic pout. “Wan’ to show them how the ah- strongest fucks. For everyone t-to know how well you- hngh!”

You’re proving exactly his point with a clingy clench of your glutinous walls hugging his rummaging cockhead. Slipping and sliding between his leaky mushroom tip between your saturated lips oh-so-easily with just how soaked you were.

With a stinging smack! of his slender, six-inch fingers onto the arched curve of yours ass, Gojo’s helping your bulging lips swallow up every one of his fucking inches. Greedily. 

“Why?” You’re huffing out a clouded pant, hitting Gojo’s playfully loving features. Words taking on a whiny tone that you only ever saw used by your boyfriend himself, “S-so that even more girls could flirt with you when m’right ngh- there-”

Swat!

Once. Twice. Thrice until Gojo was sure that your sharp mouth was reduced to flooding with nothing but needy whines at his punishing little thwacks. 

Reminding you of how he’d turned down anyone and everyone else that flocked to him.

You can only watch when he’s curling one big, beefy forearm around the pivoting small of your back. Sapphire eyes rolling up at you, “Girl, as much as I hah- looove that feisty hngh- mouth o’ yours. You think just anyone s’gonna make the st-strongest theirs?”

Before you can answer, he’s swabbing out a caramelized wad of translucent saliva, dipping down to your neglected clit and leaving off a pressurized spank.

“Silly lil’ thing. The answer is- no-” He’s humming away, like he wasn’t just driving your body oh-so-feral right about now. Prattles of praises dripping with every dousing dab of his globular tip opening up your gooey depths, “-so no complainin’ now, my girl.”

And it was so true.

With a few copious more kisses lingering on your tongue, Gojo’s blessing your tastebuds with a wet thwack! of his drooly saliva. Pecking away the overspilling spatters beading at the corners of your lips, “See how well ya take it? So no need ta get ngh- jealous, sweetheart.”

And maybe it was high time that you’re asking for a break, high time that you’re breathing in heaving gulps of air to try and organize your dazed mind. 

But the only thing you find yourself doing is carressing your palms to give Gojo’s bulging pecs a good firm squeeze. Digging your nails into the plush muscle in a way that makes his nose crinkle with a whimper.

“C-can’t help it, Toru–” Head throwing back with the roaring pap! of his clammy skin sticking to yours with each bounce, you’re stuffing your snug cunt so unbearably full with his massively large inches. And it only makes you want more more more- “-you’re just so pretty…”

Oh.

“Yeah?” Gojo’s letting his head splay-out into the pillow with a woozy grin smeared all over his ruined features. One set of his biceps rippling when he’s resting it sexily behind him, the other twitching when he’s curling one finger underneath the blindfold at your neck and dragging you until you’re mere sultry inches away. “Ya think m’pretty, huh?”

Your blood curdles in your vein with embarrassment at what you’d just babbled away cockdrunkenly - what you were still babbling out. “Y-yes. Unfairly pretty.”

Fuck, Gojo was just twitching his bulked rotund tip into your goopiest depths. Still so sensitive. Earning you a low whine puffing from between his lips, and the sweetest of kisses against that tender g-spot. 

“H-heh…” And if you were in a better state of mind, you’d have sworn that the great Gojo Satoru’s suave voice trembled with such an obvious crack. “M’gonna marry ya- I swear.”

And that massive diamond ring bunched up in his drawer to be mentioned later, you’re feeling the burning sting of his pampered fingernails raking bruising lines down the curvaceous arch of your spine. The sheer bend of it sending Gojo licking his lips, eyes craning to admire the bumpy pathways of his perfect work.

You’re hissing your own crescents drawing the very same thing all over Gojo’s Herculean front the very moment his jackhammers get too much. Strawberry red lines against his peachy flush. Plummy split-end probing deeply into all your treasure trove of geysers that it felt like just the slightest bit of recoil parting your gluey flesh made him mad. 

“Ohhh, girl-” The smile you’re bared with is so wild - unrestrained. Showing off his sharpened canines like such an animal, drooling and gleaming with mouth-watered sap. Breaths staggering out in hot pants, “-the way you hah- stake your claim on me is sooo sexy. Because m’yours, huh?” 

And maybe if this was any other time then you’re sure you’d be embarrassed at how quickly you’re hurtling into your orgasm headfirst with just those words and the bruising twang of his fingers pinching your clit.

Yet, it feels so good - Gojo Satoru was always the best at whatever he did. 

And right now you can feel your throat burn with the wrenching call of Toru— your hips stuttering down into his almost-thunderously. Riotous, vicious drags to plumpen your favorite spots with the curved angle of his thick cock, so drag out your high for far too long-

But Gojo wasn’t done. Of course, he wasn’t.

Not until spearheading few determinedly roughened thrashes up into your soppy cervix with a gritted slash of his mouth. 

“Yeah yeahh- y-you can handle it, girlie-” Swab after swab after swab that made your second and third orgasms cash into one. “Gotta s-suck me ngh- dry now, m’kay? Make aaaaall of Toyko lose their fuckin’ electrcity- ah- instead of worryin’ that pretty lil’ head with stupid things. Okay?” Final, heaving slopes of his thrusts- “Gotta take eeeverything th-this big cock takes like a champ, m’kay? Because it’s all yours heh…”

And then you’re milking him and you’re milking him until he’s gone. Ruined. 

The strongest reduced to nothing but a lecherous mess of whimpers and feral twitches of his ruby-red tip. Flooding your poor cunt over and over with waterfalls of his creamy sap, so fucking overstimulated that he can feel his footfalls planting down firmly on the mattress. Eyes watering, spine hunching-

CRACK!

Ah, Gojo’s cracking his leaky lids open to a dim bedroom, air murky with sex and buzzing jujutsu. Exactly how he wanted it - for everyone in every ward of Tokyo to know who made him feel this way. So good. To know how he was yours.

Gojo looks up at you, cock jerking ever-so-slightly at your heaving figure straddling him and oh, he’s in love. “Let’s take out the lights in all of Japan this time.”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Soulmates.

“Cummin’ on my haaaah- cock for the fourth time and still not ‘nough?” And perhaps for the first time ever in his life, the ever-stoic Higuruma Hiromi sounded breathless. Words hitching into a needy lilt of his voice, “-still want fuckin’ more, greedy girl?”

Yes. The answer was yes yes yes yes - and it was bleeding into your every action. 

Steadying your precarious hands on the cool mahogany plane of his office desk. Important law documents rustle and fall with every single motion of your hips pivoting backwards against Higuruma’s toned ones, wrenching out resounding paps! of clammy skin-on-skin. Saturated lips puckering up around every solid, girthy inch he could give, “...J-jus’ want you, Hiromi.”

“Hm, s’that right, angel?” Planting a sudden spank of his thick digits down onto the jiggling mound of your ass. And if you crane your head over your shoulder just right, you’d catch that simpering dimple at the end of his curling grin. “Such a needy girl- bet ya can’t stop thinkin’ about me, huh?”

And- shit, Higuruma wasn’t expecting his lovely angel to actually nod. 

To let your head tumble up and downwards like you were out of control, mewling out affirmative yeses.

Without a second thought, he’s tugging the tattered rest of your tight silken skirt cleanly off. Engulfing palms smoothing over your stinging flesh and spreading your puffed-up pussy lips so wiiidely agape.

Your squirmy hips are being pinned down with one of his strong arms, and the forever-deepening angle of Higuruma hiking up a singular thick thigh. Neat black garter only digging into his supple leg muscles and making them look even bigger. “Take this fuckin’ cock now- no need to be shy.”

What a pretty sight.

Of your sheen-slicked folds struggling and yearning to take up more more more of him. Slobbering out sweltering hot geysers of sickly sweet slick that drizzle between his digits and down to that neat, black happy trail. You were so needy right now and Higuruma has never loved anything more - well, other than his love for simply you, of course. 

“Not a single ngh- inch left- hah- ya really are made f’me, huh? All this for jus’ me?” He’s hissing out over the knocking thuds of your knees bumping into the wooden furniture with each pressurized thrust. But of course, Higuruma couldn’t have that- bending his legs with a grunt to lift your own boneless limbs ever-so-slightly midair. And you take it so fucking well- “M-maybe I hafta make ya ngh- jealous of overtime more often.”

You’re mumbling, “Hiromi—”

For which you’re shut up by the pads of his rounded fingertips rolling over your pulpy clit with a patterned heart. “Kidding- kidding, angel. But I wouldn’t s-say no to ya barging in my office n’ takin’ this fucking cock more ah- often.”

Pump and pump of his vigorous shaft, you feel like you can only perch your hips higher and take it. 

All the while Higuruma’s babbling away pussydrunkenly like he doesn’t even realize it - and he doesn’t. He can’t. The only thing running through his saccharine sweet mind being you you you-

“Awww, nothin’ for ya to be worried about, dear–” Those overstimulated pearls of wet tears gathering at your droopy eyes are lazily wafted away by one of Higuruma’s thumbs. “M’a married fuckin’ man- not to my work. To you, my soulmate.”

“B-but–” Your lower lips juts out in a pout that makes his strawberry pink cockhead jolt like he’d been zapped with a million fucking volts of electricity. Mind too intoxicated to really even register what he said - married. “-makes me feel so lonely n’ jealous some ah- nights, baby–”

“My poor angel-” His face nuzzles into your tear-clammed cheeks, and the miniscule bristle of his five-o-clock shadow makes your trembling orifices only wetter. “-my poor, poor angel. Y’know what we can ngh- do?”

Blinking up dazedly, “What?”

“What if I…” And oh, he’s planing over the middle of your tummy, fingers teetering sensual little circles right above where his rummaging fat cock was making such a mess of your goopy insides. ‘-pumped ya alllll f-full right here.“ Just those sweetly tender words in your ear was enough to make your lips part parchedly, as dry as a desert. “N’ gave our little family a-another hah- member…or two.”

It’s as if as soon as the idea is dropped into your needy head, it’s all that you can think about. 

“Wan– ah-” You’re mewling, “Want it- want it so bad. I-inside please–”

Plummeting your hips in an even sloppier slew of grinds against Higuruma’s, it’s no surprise that his sculptured skin where your ass is meeting and smacking into his is angry and red. But he doesn’t mind-

Fuck, in fact, it makes Higuruma even fucking harder. Every ounce of hot blood in his body bloating up to balloon his swollen crownhead even puffier, and he’s skimming over the sensory pads of his digits over and over your womb to feel for that nudge- that little probe of his ruthless shaft into your depths.

“Yeah? That sound good?” He can’t help but snicker in an uncharacteristically sleazy way at just how eagerly you’re nodding, “‘Course it does- my- ngh! good girl takes it all, doesn’t she?” He’s so filthy with his mouth, driving you closer and closer to the edge, even more so when he’s finally uttering. “N’ m’gonna give my all because m’yours, angel. All yours.”

He was fucking you all the way through your high like he meant it - and was driving the very message into both your gummy cunt and your stupefied mind. 

Over and over in such salacious grounds of his bulky cylindrical shaft swirling into your pudgy cervix. Kissing you hello and goodbye each n’ every time until he can’t hold it in-

Can’t stop. Can’t even falter when the arm manhandling you flatly onto your front sags with the weight of his entirely powerful body. Hunching over with a low groan, Higuruma’s filling you up to the very brim. Even past that with the utter viscous volume of seed treacling past your puckered slit. 

It’s so soppingly soaked that you’re feeling your thighs slip and slide past each other with every squeeze, lathered in a sugary frosting of his cum. Packed and plugged safely inside your goopy depths.

Higuruma can’t help but let his heart twist with utter pride at the way he could feel the matted masses cream and knot around his throbbing shaft inside of you. Ready to keep you locked up in here as long as possible for it to take. 

Overtime be damned, he was on a mission to prove that he’s devoted - that he’s yours.

Which is what finds him sneakily tugging open the second drawer on his desk while you busy yourself trying to catch desperate breaths. To steady yourself. To fucking open your eyes after this thorough ruination of your insides - only to see something big, and glinting on your left ring finger. 

A big, expensive diamond in exactly the design you’d off-handedly mentioned liking years and years ago.

Your mouth drops, and Higuruma’s crooks into a simpering smile. “If that didn’t prove m’all yours- maybe this will, my wife.”

A/N. WALK ‘EM LIKE A DOG SIS-

Plagiarism not authorized.

[pucksandpower]

Nothing to Prove

Charles Leclerc x Vettel!Reader

Summary: it’s a tale as old as time — every female sports fan has been told to “prove” her fandom at least once in her life — but the man quizzing you quickly learns the error of his ways

The Miami sun beats down relentlessly as you make your way through the bustling paddock, your destination the familiar red and white of the Ferrari motorhome. The air buzzes with pre-race excitement, mechanics and team personnel darting about like worker bees in a particularly colorful hive.

You’re so focused on navigating the crowd that you almost don’t notice the young man who steps directly into your path, phone held aloft. His grin is a touch too smug for comfort.

“Excuse me, miss,” he says, voice dripping with false politeness. “Mind if I ask you a few questions for my TikTok?”

You hesitate, torn between ingrained courtesy and a gnawing sense of unease. “I’m actually in a bit of a hurry-”

“It’ll only take a minute,” he insists, already hitting record. “So, tell me, what’s your favorite thing about Formula 1?”

The question seems innocent enough, but there’s something in his tone that sets your teeth on edge. Still, you decide to play along for now. “Well, I love the strategy, the technology, the way the whole sport pushes the boundaries of what’s possible-”

He cuts you off with a laugh. “Come on, be honest. It’s the hot drivers, right? That’s why most girls watch.”

You blink, momentarily stunned by his blatant misogyny. “Excuse me?”

“No judgment!” He says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I get it, they’re all rich and fit. But let’s see how much you really know. Who won the 1976 World Championship?”

You open your mouth to answer, but he barrels on.

“What’s the difference between understeer and oversteer? How many points do you get for fastest lap? Come on, if you’re a real fan, this should be easy!”

Your initial discomfort has morphed into full-blown anger. “Look, I don’t have to prove anything to you. My knowledge of the sport isn’t-”

“Ah, so you can’t answer,” he says, triumphant. “Just as I thought. Another pretty face here for the-”

“Is there a problem here?”

The smooth voice comes from just behind you, followed by the warmth of a familiar body pressing against your back. Strong arms wrap around your waist, and you instinctively lean into the embrace.

The TikToker’s eyes go wide as saucers as he takes in the newcomer. “You’re ... you’re ...”

“Charles Leclerc,” your boyfriend finishes for him, voice deceptively mild. “And you are ...”

The young man sputters, clearly thrown off his game. “I’m ... I mean... I was just asking your girl here some questions about F1.”

Charles’ arms tighten fractionally around you. “Is that so? Because from where I was standing, it sounded more like an interrogation.”

You turn your head slightly, meeting Charles’ gaze. His green eyes are blazing with a protective fury that makes your heart skip a beat.

“It’s fine,” you murmur. “He was just leaving.”

Charles raises an eyebrow at the TikToker, who’s looking increasingly desperate to be anywhere else. “You heard the lady.”

But the young man, perhaps realizing his video is about to become internet gold, rallies. “Wait! I mean, no offense, but how do we know she’s not just with you for the fame? Can she even name your teammate?”

You feel Charles tense behind you, but before he can speak, you’ve had enough. You step out of his embrace, squaring up to the TikToker.

“Carlos Sainz Jr.,” you say, voice hard. “Currently P4 in the championship. And since you’re so keen on quizzing people, James Hunt won in ‘76, understeer is when the front of the car doesn’t turn enough while oversteer is when the rear steps out too much, and you get one point for fastest lap if you finish in the top ten. Any other burning questions?”

The TikToker gapes at you, clearly unprepared for this turn of events. Charles, for his part, looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh.

“I ... but ...” the young man stammers.

You press on, building up a head of steam. “Oh, and fun fact — my brother has four World Championships. But I’m sure you knew that, being such an expert and all.”

The TikToker’s face drains of color as realization dawns. “Your brother? You’re Sebastian Vettel’s sister?”

Charles can’t contain his amusement any longer. He laughs, the sound rich and warm. “I tried to warn you. You’ve awakened the beast.”

You shoot him a mock glare. “You’re not helping.”

He holds up his hands in surrender, still grinning. “Far be it from me to interfere with your righteous fury. Please, continue.”

The TikToker looks like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. “I ... I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize-”

“That women can be genuine fans?” You interrupt. “That we might actually understand and love the sport for its own sake? Or just that you shouldn’t make assumptions about people based on their gender?”

He winces. “All of the above?”

Charles steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. The touch is gentle, but there’s steel in his voice when he speaks. “I think it’s time for you to go. And delete that video while you’re at it.”

The young man nods frantically, fumbling with his phone. In his haste to retreat, he trips over his own feet, sprawling ungracefully on the ground. Charles moves to help him up, ever the gentleman, but you put a restraining hand on his arm.

“Let him sort himself out,” you mutter. “A little humiliation might do him some good.”

Charles chuckles, pulling you close. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

As the TikToker scrambles away, face burning with embarrassment, you allow yourself to relax into Charles’ embrace. The adrenaline of the confrontation leaves you feeling a bit shaky.

“You okay?” Charles asks softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You nod, letting out a long breath. “Yeah. Just ... frustrated. Why do people still think like that?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I wish I knew. It’s not fair, the assumptions people make.”

“It’s not just about me,” you say, turning to face him fully. “It’s about all the female fans out there who get treated like this. Who get quizzed and belittled and have their passion questioned at every turn.”

Charles nods, his expression serious. “You’re right. It’s a bigger problem than just one idiot with a TikTok account.”

“Sometimes I wonder if it will ever change,” you admit, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you.

Charles cups your face in his hands, his touch impossibly gentle. “It will,” he says with conviction. “Because of people like you who stand up and call it out. Who refuse to let ignorance go unchallenged.”

You lean into his touch, allowing yourself a small smile. “When did you get so wise?”

He grins, some of his usual playfulness returning. “I have my moments. Don’t tell anyone though, it’ll ruin my reputation.”

You laugh, the tension finally starting to dissipate. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Charles leans in, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m proud of you, you know,” he murmurs. “The way you handled that ... it was impressive.”

“Yeah?” You ask, a hint of vulnerability creeping into your voice.

“Absolutely,” he says firmly. “You were brilliant. Fierce. Passionate.” His voice drops lower, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Incredibly sexy.”

You swat his arm playfully. “Behave yourself, Leclerc. We’re in public.”

He affects an innocent expression that doesn’t fool you for a second. “I’m always on my best behavior.”

You snort. “That’s what worries me.”

Charles laughs, the sound bright and carefree. It never fails to make your heart soar. He takes your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. “Come on, let’s get to the motorhome. I think we both could use a moment of peace before the craziness really begins.”

As you walk hand in hand through the paddock, you can’t help but reflect on the incident. It leaves a sour taste in your mouth, but there’s also a spark of hope. Because for every misogynistic TikToker, there are countless fans — of all backgrounds — who love the sport for what it is. Who appreciate the skill, the strategy, the sheer spectacle of it all.

And maybe, just maybe, standing up to ignorance one interaction at a time is how change really happens.

Charles squeezes your hand, pulling you from your thoughts. “What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?”

You smile, leaning into him slightly as you walk. “Just thinking about how lucky I am. To be here, doing what I love. To have people in my life who support me and believe in me.”

He brings your joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “The luck goes both ways, mon cœur. You make me better, on and off the track.”

As you approach the Ferrari motorhome, its bright red a beacon in the sea of team colors, you feel a renewed sense of purpose. There will always be challenges, always be those who try to tear others down. But with love, determination, and a refusal to back down from what’s right, anything is possible.

Even changing the world of Formula 1, one small interaction at a time.

[sylvia-und-sybille]

💯 [100] How many words does your WIP currently have? How many words do you hope it’ll have when it’s done? 2.3K+ now, and whatever happens, that happens.

⌛️ [Hourglass] How long have you been working on this WIP? 3 days.

📚 [Books] Is this WIP part of a series or standalone? AU location (starts as) and aged-up characters.

🎀 [Bow] How many named characters are in this WIP? How many do get a POV? OTP only. Even as 3rd person's point of view there's little of point of view at all (as thoughts or just about a person alone.)

💖 [Heart] What is your favorite moment in this WIP? OTP talk & do things together.

🎶 [Notes] Do you have any other WIP related things, like moodboards, character portraits, playlists or similar? It can happen in 0.001% of cases (if, then fanfictions only.)

📖 [Open Book] What form do you want this WIP to take when it’s done? Posted, printed, published, etc? Posted only.

🐀 [Rat] Name three reasons why this WIP is great at being insert genre here. (You can send a genre, or let the recipient pick one.) Romance, as it's about a lot of love (as in every fanfiction about them.)

🐁[Mouse] Name three reasons why this WIP is horrible at being insert genre here. (You can send a genre, or let the recipient pick one.) Humour. Unfortunately, no funny moments.

🔎 [Magnifier] Is there a phrase/word you know you use too often? Will you change it in editing? So (for years.) If exaggerate, the answer is, so what? So to be it. | Whenever possible, I try to find other way to glue parts of looong sentences and not to break them into shorter ones. The writer of the original version had looong sentences as well and paragraphs can seem almost endless in many cases.

🍖 [Meat] How many fictional people were harmed in the making of this WIP? EVERY SINGLE of my fanfictions & original stories has happy end (unless past when I wanted to write about harm done to or defeat of a bad or unpleasant character.) In the case of latest WIP fanfiction: deep sadness of both, character 2: wish to cry before relief, no harm.

🌈 [Rainbow] If at the beginning of your WIP the characters knew about the end, would they kill you to stop you from writing it? They would look forward to a plot twist (mostly character 2, as character 1 had an idea.)

‍🎨 [Palette] If your WIP was a color, which color would it be? Rainbow, as they deserve.

🍩 [Donut] What’s the weirdest thing someone eats in your WIP? What’s the best thing? No food or drinks are mentioned (yet?)

🔒 [Lock] Would you let your family, friends, or other people you know in real life read your WIP? No, and I almost don't know people in real life. Yes, I'm so called "live under a rock."

🖋️ [Pen] Describe your WIP in a single, terrible sentence. At first, the two are icebergs, but very, very soon, nothing is under water . . . (They talk about character 1 as having an iceberg, so . . .) . . . positive plot twist, philosophical discussion, something else unexpected (positive again.) (Note: something else is before plot twist, though. | I've had to search for answers to at least understand how such description can be possible.)

❌ [Cross] What would your WIP get cancelled on Twitter for? What does it mean even? If as not accepted, one of important parts is gender non-conformity. Those who are against girls & women who don't look feminine can be highly displeased. BUT what can I say, the version the fanfiction is based on has scenes with character 2 in man's shirt. So yes, haters can hate as long as they want.

UPDATE a day after: I've had an idea (chapter 2, not one-shot as it was planned initially) which is the reason to "get cancelled on Twitter," but I don't care. The idea supposed to be a part of some future fanfiction (no matter which, but based on the modern version of the story,) but the wish to add this to the current one was too strong, so it will be here :D The first chapter discussed above has two plot twists, but this idea is an enormous plot twist. Second plot twist & new one will result in (in my opinion, at least) it's too good to be true | unrealistic, but I don't care. I want this to exist, so it will.

Random WIP Ask Game

💯 [100] How many words does your WIP currently have? How many words do you hope it'll have when it's done?

⌛️ [Hourglass] How long have you been working on this WIP?

📚 [Books] Is this WIP part of a series or standalone?

🎀 [Bow] How many named characters are in this WIP? How many do get a POV?

💖 [Heart] What is your favorite moment in this WIP?

🎶 [Notes] Do you have any other WIP related things, like moodboards, character portraits, playlists or similar?

📖 [Open Book] What form do you want this WIP to take when it's done? Posted, printed, published, etc?

🐀 [Rat] Name three reasons why this WIP is great at being insert genre here. (You can send a genre, or let the recipient pick one.)

🐁[Mouse] Name three reasons why this WIP is horrible at being insert genre here. (You can send a genre, or let the recipient pick one.)

🔎 [Magnifier] Is there a phrase/word you know you use too often? Will you change it in editing?

🍖 [Meat] How many fictional people were harmed in the making of this WIP?

🌈 [Rainbow] If at the beginning of your WIP the characters knew about the end, would they kill you to stop you from writing it?

‍🎨 [Palette] If your WIP was a color, which color would it be?

🍩 [Donut] What's the weirdest thing someone eats in your WIP? What's the best thing?

🔒 [Lock] Would you let your family, friends, or other people you know in real life read your WIP?

🖋️ [Pen] Describe your WIP in a single, terrible sentence.

❌ [Cross] What would your WIP get cancelled on Twitter for?

[itssliyahhxoxo]

hey lovely i have a request i was thinking like paige n reader n they baby girl or boy says they first words or the reader has a baby from a previous relationship nd the baby calls paige mama or sumn

You and Paige met the months after your break up with your baby daddy. When you found out you were pregnant you were filled with joy, your boyfriend not so much. The arguing started about a month after and went on and n about the baby.

Until you had enough and left, you spent the rest of your pregnancy with your best friend (friend name)

After you gave birth you dedicated your life to your precious baby girl, meaning.

Baby comes first

No men

No getting close with anyone

You stuck with those rules for the past five months,until your best friend had enough she basically dragged you and baby girl out the house and drove to her moms. “Are you sure this is ok” you asked her mom “yes, sweetie go have some fun. Besides it’ll be nice to spend some time with my grand baby” she smiled.

Yes you weren’t related but you and (friend name) see each other as sisters and her mom was always there for you as well.

“And maybe you can find you a new man” she smirked. you laughed shaking your head “bye ma” you kiss her cheek before leaving.

That was the night you met Paige, and god was she a flirt, she just wouldn’t give up “come onn, just one chance” she clapped her hands together as she followed you to the bar.

You shook your head with a laugh “you don’t give up do you?” You took a seat at the bar “nope” she smirked “what could go wrong?”. Your heart getting broken again, that’s what could happen. You knew Paige was a good person, but was just scared.

“You’re not gonna stop until I say yes, are you?” You looked at her. she shook her head, you looked down and sighed “fine..” “YES” Paige shoot up and cheered “but!!” You spoke up “uh-oh” she panicked.

“I..I have a daughter” you looked down, Paige slowly sat back next to you “how old” she asked softly “five months” you answered still not looking at her Paige nodded her head in thought “ok”.

You looked at her confused “what’s her favorite show?” Paige asked “why?” You asked. “So I know what to get her whenever I meet her” she smiled. You blinked “look, I don’t care about you having a kid. I like you a LOT” she said making you laugh a little.

“And I want to be with you” she took your hand in hers. After that night you and Paige had your first date which led too her meeting baby girl.

She drove you to (friends name) house to go get her due to her being fussy. “Shhh” you whispered in her ear softly rubbing her back, Paige watched with a smile seeing how different you were with her (baby name) lifted her head up to look at Paige with her big curious eyes, Paige panicked her eye widened as she froze.

You turned to look at her “you ok?” you asked seeing her face, she nodded that was all she could do. You’ve noticed her gaze on (baby name) and smiled “you wanna hold her?”. Paige’s eyes snapped to you “you su-sure I don’t wanna- you just got her to settle down..”.

“It fine Paige, she’s fine” you giggled at her nervousness you walked towards her, (baby name) eyes still on her.

You slowly place her in Paige’s arms and slowly backed away to see what would happen, both stared at each other with widened eyes. (Baby name)reached up and held Paige’s face in her chubby hands, you couldn’t help but laugh at Paige’s reaction.

(Baby name) begins to rub her eyes telling you that she was tired, she placed her head on Paige’s chest and began to fall asleep. Paige heart stopped, yes she held plenty of kids before but this was different. She looked back at you and saw you smiling at them, she looked back at (baby name) and softly smiled.

That was when she knew there was no way she would be able to let you and her go.

It’s been over a year now and things were going really good during that time you and (baby name) Paige’s mom and family, and they loved you especially (baby name).

You thought she was spoiled before, but now she was spoiled every.single.day, whenever Paige came home from practice she would bring home a toy for baby girl but tonight was different “Paige!” You looked at her shocked, she held what looks a four month old husky “what she loves it” Paige placed the puppy down and it immediately ran to (baby’s name).

It began licking her face and running around her making her laughs and giggles fill the room, Paige wrapped her arms around you from behind as you to watch your baby girl play with her new puppy “you spoil her to much” you mumbled in her arms “anything to make my girl happy” Paige kissed your head.

“Yeah, well I won’t be so happy in the morning. When I’m picking up it’s shit” you told her “don’t worry about that, I’ll handle it” she laughed. (Baby name) slowly waddled her way over toward you two “m..mama” she reached forward Paige.

You and Paige looked down at her shocked, Paige picked her up and held her in her arms “mama” (baby name) mumbled in Paige chest. Paige looked to you “did she just..” you nodded not knowing what to say. “Are you ok with her calling you that?” you asked.

Paige thought about it, over the past years she grown to love (baby name) like her own but hearing her call her mama mad it deal real. “I think so” she nodded and looked down at baby girl she was half asleep gripping Paige’s shirt the sight made her heart flutter.

“Let’s get a house” she blurred out looking back at you “w..what?” You looked at her shocked “I want us to get a house” she said more confident “we’re going to need more space with that one” she nodded to the puppy who was now playing with one of Paige‘s many shoes. “And we’re gonna need a backyard for when I teach her how to play basketball” she smirked.

“Oh really, who said she was playing basketball” you smiled gently getting closer to her “me” she pulls your by the waist and kisses you with so much love. That when You knew you made the right decision that night.



If there is any misspelled words, just ignore it I didn’t have time to go over it.

@thatonequeer0358 @numberonepartyanth3m @melpthatsme

[endearng]

Out of reach

Pairing: earlyseasons!Spencer Reid x hotchner!fem!reader Summary: You pull away from Spencer because of your jealousy. You go back to him after a few drinks in. WC: 9k A/N: fluff! pining! idiots/friends to lovers! alcohol consumption; spencer is a bit mean; reader doesn't communicate; hotch is a little older to have a daughter around spencer's age (do not come at me this is fiction). If I missed anything, please let me know! I had so much fun writing this one and it's now one of my favorites <3 masterlist

The jet was quiet as you and the BAU team made your way back from Los Angeles after successfully finding Lila Archer's stalker. The case had been a bit draining, after all, you've only been working with the FBI for a couple of months, and seeing dead bodies and all those other displays of violence was something you were still trying to get used to. Despite your sensitive nature, being Aaron Hotchner's daughter meant that you had mastered the art of a poker face through the years, not that it meant that your inner feelings were any less important. This is how you found yourself sitting all alone in a corner of the jet as everyone minded their own business. On any other day, you'd be sitting next to Dr. Spencer Reid, talking about whatever it was that could get your mind off the case you had just wrapped up. Spencer and you were friends, some would even say the best of friends, but you didn't mind about naming things — what mattered the most is that you got to be yourself around him and you didn't bother hiding behind the Hotchner glare, as he once put it.

Despite being unknown territory for you, after all, feelings and all that were protected by a deeply analytic and practical mind, you knew what you were feeling. Well, you were analyzing your reactions to check what had actually happened — and the thing is, you couldn't admit, not even to yourself, what that sinking feeling in your chest when you watched Spencer saying goodbye to Lila was. Amid your analysis, Spencer quietly approached you, silently motioning to the seat next to you. You nodded, shutting every single thought of him. Or at least, trying.

"Hi."

Hotch glare. "Hi, Reid."

Spencer felt nervous. He had never been on the receiving end of your… wrath before, so it was unknown territory and he didn't know how to act. His racing heart and clammy palms weren't helping him, either. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Listen, um, you... can... can we talk?" The stammering. Way to go, Spencer.

Glancing at him, ignoring the skip in your heartbeat, you nodded. "Yeah. Is everything alright?" A firm, secure tone. You mentally patted yourself on the back.

"You're a little distant... and—and I got a bit worried. Did... Did something happen?" He wanted to kick himself. What kind of person can't hold a serious conversation without stuttering like an idiot? Get a grip, Reid.

"No, Reid. Everything is alright. I'm just... thinking." You said.

Bullshit. You both knew that. Spencer, on the other hand, didn't know why it was bullshit. But he knew it was.

"Are you sure?" He asked, leaning towards you, almost invading your personal space and he shut his eyes before delivering the next question, "Is... I haven't done anything to upset you? Right?"

You took a second to answer him, willing your voice to stay still and the knot in your throat to go away. "No. It's nothing you've done. It's just... it's on me." You gave him a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes — that's when he knew something was definitely wrong.

He nodded, but he was still worried by your sudden change of behavior, especially towards him. It was like he was anyone else, again. And, God, he didn't want that. "What is it, then? You can talk to me, you know. We're best friends."

Best friends.

The words felt bitter on his tongue. The sound of them broke your heart all over again.

Best friends. "Right. Yeah. I know." You said, quietly, and it felt a little lifeless to him. He clenched his hand, fighting the urge to touch you, to ask you what was truly bothering you. "Thanks for offering."

Spencer felt conflicted. If he didn't say anything and didn't push you to speak, you would probably bury whatever it was that you were feeling and it would lead him into being even more worried about you. If he did, you would probably snap at him because of his undesired, bothersome insistence. "It's nothing." He said, defeatedly. "Can you just... Do you promise it's not me?"

Your heart ached and you smiled at him, a tiny, faint, barely there smile. He was so adorable, sometimes. "I'm just upset over something else. Don’t worry. You didn't do anything wrong." You finished, trying to convince yourself that he had not, indeed, done something wrong.

And he didn't. He didn't. You and Spencer, despite your proximity and sometimes incredibly ambiguous relationship, hadn't said anything about deeper feelings towards one another. You let yourself admire him, lovingly, from afar, and were happy with the snippets of attention you had from him when you two had some free time. You two were regulars in the coffee shop near his apartment and, by now, the local librarian, Mrs. Jones, could probably fake your signature from how often you two went there to borrow books. She would watch you two behind the bookshelves, whispering excitedly and curiously to each other about whatever suggestions you were getting from each other. As you missed Spencer's longing glances to read a summary, Mrs. Jones smiled to herself, both at how adorable you two were and how oblivious you were. In museums, you would sit down after some time walking around to his explanations of art and historical movements that impacted the expression of a certain age — you pretended to not know a few things, just so he could speak his heart away and not be interrupted by your own contributions.

You kept silent to make him happy.

Which was exactly what was happening now.

Spencer knew, for sure, that you were hiding something from him. But he also knew that he had no right to force it out. He fidgeted awkwardly, not knowing what to do with his hands, his heart still clenching. “But, but... you’d come to me if you needed help, right?”

You nodded, unable to speak. You knew you were wrong, omitting things from him. Just as the guilt was starting to weigh in your heart, Derek passed by you two with a magazine in his hands, throwing it at Spencer, exclaiming, "My man!"

You looked down, already knowing what it was. Spencer was a mess beside you: blushing, stuttering, avoiding your and Derek's gaze and throwing the magazine as far as he could, like it had burned him. Your reaction was a subtle twitch of your lips, not in amusement, but in need to disguise the pang in your heart. You both spent the rest of the flight sitting in silence, simply being in each other's orbit. You, guiltily. Spencer, worriedly.

Your reaction — or lack of — was staggering to Spencer. He thought you two were getting somewhere, despite your closed off nature and demeanor, he thought he was finally cracking you up. Everyday was torture, seeing you walk through the bullpen's glass doors with your professional clothes and your composed figure. It was torture to see you walk around so prettily and serious, holding his bare heart in your hands, and not even realizing it. By now, he lived and thrived on those rare opportunities you had to spend time together as he became more and more covered in you.

As the jet landed and Spencer walked out to talk to Derek, you pettily made sure to step on Lila Archer's face when leaving the jet in sheer frustration.

Back to the bullpen, you had gone to the restroom to splash some water on your face in order to calm your nerves and to tell yourself that it was only a matter of time until things got back to normal — until you got back to normal. Glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you wondered if Spencer could tell that there was something wrong with you, if you had let any of your feelings slip during your short conversation. The version of you that stared back was as impassible as you ever were. As you made your way to your desk in the dimly lit sea of desks, you caught Spencer and Derek talking, both having their backs to you.

Sighing, you just left the headquarters, not wanting to know what they were discussing, or rather, knowing what they were discussing, but unwilling to stay, even if it would quench your curiosity as to what Spencer had been thinking.

Maybe you didn't want to know the answer.

—

The days went by, cases coming left and right, flights making you almost dizzy — not that you would admit, but you were terrified of heights. Between those and your training, you barely had time to think about Spencer and the entire Lila occasion. You spent your days busy with work, studies and physical training in order to keep your mind away from that, but as you lay awake at night, the memories would come back to haunt you relentlessly to the point you had recurring dreams of them. Together, as you watched from the sidelines. You kept to yourself, slipping further and further away from Spencer.

Reid, on the other hand, felt your absence more than anyone. You took a rain check on all the invitations he made, even when he invited you to movie night, when he would definitely choose a Russian movie because you mentioned once how you liked how the language sounds. There wasn't any more donuts on his desk as he arrived in the morning (he would always joke that you and your father secretly lived in the headquarters and that someday he would see Haley bringing your groceries to the secret house), and there was no one for him to throw his paper airplanes, small flashcards with the Russian phonological alphabet, at. The change in your behavior was absurdly clear to everyone: you barely called or texted him anymore, you didn't look his way when someone told a joke to check if he thought it was funny... He was sulking, to say the least. Upon questioning you, you blamed your lack of free time and as he was going to question you further, you said in a teasing tone that not everyone was like him and that the FBI was actually making you go through all the training phases.

Finally, during the end of a particularly frustrating workday, he finally snapped, grabbing your arm before you could enter the elevator. It was only you and him in the otherwise empty hallway. "Ok. What's been going on? And don't," he said, closing his eyes, "don't dance around the subject. Don't say it's the Academy. Don't say you have to work. Don't. Please, be honest with me."

The exasperation in his eyes and in his tone almost broke the wall that hid your true feelings, but as you glanced at him, you figured you couldn't do it. Be honest? What for? To hear that you're nothing more than his best friend? Losing said friend was not an option, not to you, at least. But you also knew that you weren't treating him right, that keeping him out was not at all fair to him, that leaving him in the dark was as hurtful as it would be to lose him.

Breathing deeply, you answered with the same stoic expression you wore every single damn day. "I told you, Reid. People go through different, busier times in their lives." The lie tasted like acid.

Spencer clenched his teeth, frustration and confusion beginning to override some of his social anxieties. “That! That!” He asked through clenched teeth, his gaze intense.

"That what?" You asked, puzzled.

"You... you stopped calling me 'Spence'—not that you did it often, you did it more when we were all alone, and it... it sucks! It sucks because I don't know what happened or what I did that was so wrong to make you stop liking me!"

Come on, just say something! Get angry, get sad, get something!, his mind screamed.

"I never stopped liking you," you said, looking away from him. His words hit a particular spot that you were totally willing to discover later, but the mere thought that he knew that you liked him more than as a friend made you shiver.

"That's not the point! Or—or rather, it is! Because if you didn't stop liking me, why would you act like you did?" He asked, his tone rising a bit.

"Calm down."

"Calm down? I will not calm down!" He almost yelled. His eyes widened slightly, disbelief clear in his features and tone, not to mention the frustration. "Just. Please.” He said, closing his eyes, willing himself to tone it down, not that it worked... “Tell me what you're thinking, what happened to you! For once! Any normal person would react and stop acting like an emotionless robot!"

You gaped like a fish out of water, taking a small step back, his words digging a hole in your heart. Upon hearing his own words and noticing you distancing yourself from him, all the anger vanished from his body. The widened eyes were a sign of realization of what he had said to you. During the early months of friendship, you had confided in him that you struggled with portraying emotion like others normally did. Maybe it had something to do with growing up with a father who did it so perfectly when he was out of the house. When he wasn't actively playing the ‘dad’ part, Aaron Hotchner would wear an unreadable mask like it was his armor, his defense from the outer world, but as soon as he got home, he was back to his main role. You would watch him with his coworkers and mimic him perfectly to make him laugh. At some point, making fun of and imitating his demeanor had become some serious form of self-defense for you. Spencer, then, joked that you were making your way to the perfect job, but then he had gotten serious and told you that it wasn't a flaw. That it wasn't a problem that you kept deeply to yourself sometimes — that it was okay to be yourself around him. You had felt safe by his side since then.

But now, what did those words mean? Were they lies?

He breathed out your name, softly, "I... I... I'm sorry."

"Just drop it," you replied, pushing the elevator button. Your dismissive tone and your action of leaving made Spencer feel utterly desolate, like he had done the wrongest thing in the world and perhaps he had, but he just wanted you to let him in. For once, he wanted to have the answers from your lips, not spend any more time analyzing your every single action and words...

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"You know, Spencer…" he looked up at you when he heard his name, as you held out an arm to hold the elevator doors open. As if thinking better than to say anything, you sighed and turned to enter the elevator, shaking your head with the most disappointed look he had ever seen on your face.

Spencer tried looking at you one last time before the elevator doors closed, and despite your face being as unreadable as it often was, he saw a flicker of sadness that stung his heart more than he liked to admit. If he hadn't done anything wrong before, now he had utterly fucked everything up.

—

The drive home, for Spencer, was a torture. He knew that he had to pay attention to the road ahead of him, to the other vehicles and drivers, but his mind kept drifting to the last glimpse of you back in the headquarters. Your empty eyes appeared behind his eyelids every time he pressed his eyes closed. He willed himself not to cry, to not blur his vision, taking his frustration out on the steering wheel, where his grip was so tight that his knuckles turned white. As he parked his car and looked up to one of his windows, he remembered you. Because of course he would remember you.

The sight was almost comical, to be honest. You, clad in one of the suits that fitted you so well, sitting on his windowsill, a cup of green tea in hands as you stared out the window, trying to analyze every single drop of rain before it reached somewhere outside your vision range. The funny thing was that you had no shoes on, instead, Spencer lent you a mismatched pair, not being one used to having people over, he didn't have a pair of spare slippers. Then, you sat there with a dinosaur-pattern sock on one foot and a striped-pattern sock on the other.

Spencer, sitting on his sofa and holding his own cup (he had let you choose your mug and stayed quiet when you pointed quietly at his favorite), smiled to himself. It was weirdly calming seeing you out of your character, doing something so... human.

"I can feel you staring, you know," you said. And your tone was almost... teasing?

"Right. Sorry." He said, looking down at his steaming tea.

"I'm not scolding you," you said, turning to look at his direction with a grin.

"Right, no—heh..." he replied, bashfully, cheeks reddening at the sight of your smile.

If only you knew... how many hours he would lay awake at night, as thoughts swirled in his head, how everything seemed to shut down at the thought of you. How he would fall asleep to the wish of being on the receiving end of one of your rare smiles, how he appreciated that you were always the first one he talked to upon his arrival at the headquarters. How... how he would do anything for you to look at him under a different light.

Seemingly out of nowhere, you giggled. Everything stopped.

Spencer.exe has stopped working.

"Heheh—I guess... It's not everyday you get to see a Hotchner so out of its—heheh—habitat." You quipped, looking at him with a smile on your face.

Suddenly, Spencer lost his voice. The connection between his brain and his tongue, which felt heavy, disappeared. Completely speechless, eyes slightly wide at the sound of your laughter. It made you laugh a bit more, but when his stare and open mouth got too much to handle, you looked down at your feet, wiggling your toes to distract yourself from the intensity of his gaze full of awe. Then, Spencer got back to his senses, smiling at you as you missed it to look away in embarrassment.

Spencer blinked away the tears and left his car, entering his apartment. As he took off his shoes, he let the tears fall at the sight of your windowsill.

—

Meanwhile, you were getting wasted at some bar. Not just any bar, but the one you usually went with Spencer when you were feeling daring and wanted a change from the places where you both used to go to. You were a bit of a lightweight, so a couple of drinks were enough for you to start playing trivia with Spencer and let your gaze linger for longer, basking in the sight of him so carefree, having fun with you.

Upon your arrival, the bartender that usually took care of your orders, MJ, greeted you with a smile. When she saw no one was joining you, she frowned. "Good evening, Hotch. Where's loverboy?"

You sent her a look, but since you were letting your guard down, after all, there were no acquaintances or friends around, you didn't know if the look came out as a glare or if you looked like a kicked puppy. She snorted. "Gee... That bad, huh?" She asked, and you didn't answer again, though you muttered a soft thanks, MJ when she gave you your go-to drink.

And it turned into two drinks. Three. Four...

(MJ was now giving you alcohol-free drinks, too worried for your well-being. You and Spencer started to grow on her as you two kept coming back.)

You rested your chin on your left hand while you traced patterns with your right index finger on the counter. MJ was eyeing you suspiciously, drying a few glasses with a washcloth. "He kissed another girl." You admitted, quietly.

"No way." She gasped.

"Way."

"But... I thought you two were a thing." MJ was baffled, placing down the objects she was holding in sheer shock. "I always thought you two were like... together for years."

"We were a thing.... I think, at least... I don't know, MJ." You sighed, tucking a stray of hair behind your ear. Looking up at her, hazy eyes taking in her focused expression, you sniffled, "we were on this case and then he met a girl and then the next moment the two of them were making out in a pool. In a freaking pool."

She tsked, anger flashing in her eyes, "I swear, those nerdy guys are the worst."

"Yeah..." You muttered, fiddling with your straw. "Can I have another one?"

She pursed her lips, but she relented. Then, as she handed you the liquid, a guy sat next to you. Did he look like Spencer or were you already hallucinating?

"Hi. I'm Dave. Can I buy you a drink...?" He asked with a small smile, wanting to know your name.

No, not Spencer. It’s cool.

"Hi, I..."

MJ cut you off. "Hey, Dave, I think she had too much to drink already."

They exchanged looks and it took you a minute to feel offended by her interruption and knowing you were perfectly capable of speaking for yourself, but realizing you would probably have to entertain a stranger, you felt grateful for it.

Dave left with a sour smile. "Thanks." You muttered, again, looking at MJ.

"Do you need me to get you a cab, honey?"

"That would be great." You said, placing money bills to pay for your drinks and the tip.

MJ looked around to spot someone to keep an eye on the bar as she led you out of the place, hand never leaving your shoulder. As she called a cab, she made you stand on only one leg to make sure you weren't gonna need her to go with you. You scoffed, but obeyed her all the same, with a low snicker. As you two waited for the cab driver, a woman who MJ trusted with her life (and her favorite regulars), you tried to make conversation to make up for embarrassing yourself by talking about Spencer with someone. How pathetic.

"So, what does MJ stand for?"

She chuckled, shaking her head at you and at your dazed eyes. "That's classified information."

"I'm familiar with that."

The cab driver, Paula, arrived. She greeted the both of you with a smile and a cheerful good evening! As you entered the vehicle, you rolled the windows down and pressed the subject further, "Seriously, is it Mary Jane or were your parents more creative?"

She rolled your eyes at you, shaking her head. "It's Mary Jane. MJ because who would take me seriously?"

You smiled. "I like the shoes!"

Paula started driving slowly, just to let other drivers drop their own passengers, as you were lost in your own little world, serious expression taking over your face again, not wavering, as you delved deeper into the whirlwind of thoughts plaguing your head. Paula, looking at you through the rear-view mirror, asked, "Is everything okay, honey?"

You buckled your seatbelt. "Yes, yes. Just... keep driving slowly, please."

"Where to?"

Only then you realized you never gave her an address. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you gave her Spencer's, telling her you were going home.

—

An unknown number had sent Spencer a couple of messages.

[8:32 p.m.] Lovergirl is here, drinking all by herself.

[8:32 p.m.] Water, but still. I'm not having her passed out without you here.

[8:40 p.m.] Sent her home, people were starting to approach.

Throughout the time he had spent with you at the bar, the two of you exchanged numbers with MJ in case she needed your help — you know, being FBI agents and whatnot. But Spencer didn't need to see her name to know it was her and she was talking about you; 'lovergirl' and 'passed out without you here' gave him clue enough. His stomach tied in knots when he read that people were starting to approach her, the nagging feeling that the image conjured in his mind was making him feel almost sick, then, it hit him like a truck: Lila Archer.

Their… case? was as fleeting as a careless glance. To be honest, Spencer accepted her advances to spite you for having such power over him, even if unknowingly so. The young agent felt like you were so out of his league, so out of reach — you were all that pile of confidence and stoicism and pure lusciousness and everything to him. And he was a young guy who truly had barely been kissed so far. How could he approach you, charm his way into your heart, especially when you barely bared it? With Lila, it was... nice. Easy, even. It was nice being wanted, to be able to read her intentions and desires like a children's book. With you, it was a tantalizing challenge, one he was, for the first time, struggling with. It was not like having a high-school crush, not like pining over the untouchable girls that would catch his interest as he grew older. No. This was something new. You had hit him deeper than ever or anyone before.

Plus, as much as he hated to admit it, he gave room to the anxious thoughts regarding your father as well. Would it affect his relationship with his superior? Would it affect your relationship with your father? Spencer felt dizzy just by the mere thought of ruining something uniquely yours. No, he couldn't impose himself on your life like that. It was mean, it was wrong, it was immoral.

To want, to desire, is to be selfish.

It was a bold assumption. To think you were jealous of him. Nevertheless, the signs were all there, had been all along. He was just dumb and scared enough of making assumptions.

A barely there, faint sound of a knock on his door made Spencer fly out of his bed, dropping his phone on the bedroom floor, but he didn't pick it up. He had a suspicion as to who could be knocking on his door, but he was too scared of assuming anything. Again. Opening the door, he saw you, breathing a bit heavily. The stairs, he supposed. You always complained about them. Once you exchanged looks, Spencer’s surprised one and your earnest one, you asked, "Do you really think I'm a robot?"

Shit. He could feel his heart breaking in a million little pieces. The insecure edge of your voice and words made him squeeze his eyes shut; in his mind, he was kicking himself simultaneously as he sank down to his knees, on your feet, begging you to forgive and forget his dumb, stupid, frustrated, unrealistic words.

"No," he breathed out, wincing, almost as if he was in physical pain. "I—I didn't mean to talk about you like that. I was..."

"Frustrated?"

He nodded, silently, eyes never leaving your face. Your speech, albeit way out of the ordinary that he was used to, was flawless. If not by the dilated pupils and the faint smell of alcohol, not to mention MJ's texts, he would dare to say you were perfectly sober. "I was, too." You admitted, looking down.

Spencer made way for you to enter his apartment. He watched as you kicked your shoes off. The sight, that had become as common as the act of breathing, made his way flutter. You intended on staying. Or so he hoped. You walked further into the place, noticing everything as it ever was, as if you hadn't been to his apartment for some time now. "You must be thinking why I'm here," you said, moving to sit on the couch and mentioning him to sit on the small coffee table in front of you, as if you owned the place, and not him.

Perhaps it was true.

He closed the door once you were inside, hesitating for a moment before joining you. He kept noticing things about you; the way you were walking, the way you could barely look him in the eye, the way you looked… “How much did you have to drink?” He asked, quietly.

"Not much. You know I don't usually drink because I can’t hold my drinks. And I'm sure MJ was giving me plain water at some point." You said, looking up at him. Well, at least, your speech flawlessly delivered, even though you were moving a bit more… disoriented than usual. She's totally a Hotchner.

"I... I am," he started, sitting in front of you carefully. "I... I'm sorry. It's just... You've never been so distant. I guess that I was mean to you to elicit some reaction."

Your analytical gaze softened upon his confession. You needed to give him some break, be a little easy on him. Well, easier than you were being as of lately. Nodding lightly, you added, "I'm here to apologize, too. I know... I know that I pushed you away and I made you think that... that that was your fault. It's not."

He froze. No, he wouldn't have you taking the blame for how his actions caused you to react. He looked up at you, reaching out a hand to touch your intertwined ones, "It is."

"Hear me out. Please." You said, lowly, not breaking eye contact. This was so hard, and you had never felt so afraid before. How ironic — to be afraid of being brave. "I... I guess that by now you know why I pulled away."

"I do," he admitted, nervously. "It took me some time, but I... I think I figured you out."

You looked down, embarrassed. It was overwhelming for him to see you portray such different and so many emotions all at once. To you, it was as agonizing as it was freeing. "Well, yes. So... It, um, it wasn't fair. We... we are not something. We are not a thing."

His heart, doing all the thinking and feeling, nearly stopped. As if it wasn't enough, you kept on going, "I'm sorry, I truly am, for how I behaved and how I made you feel by being absent. It's... it's not my place. You have your own life, Reid. I can't be upset with you for making decisions. You're a grown man..." you sighed, glancing at every direction but at him. "I know that I'm wrong, okay? And I know that I shouldn't have pushed you away, nor should I have kept my feelings from you."

Spencer drew in a long breath. He didn't know what to say, but you couldn't be more wrong. All at once, he wanted to scream, but he didn't know what ro say; he wanted to run, but he didn't want to leave you alone — not for a second. He didn't ever want you out of his sight; he didn't want to be the one you were apologizing to, hell, he wanted everything to be okay between them, but it was nice that she was talking to him, finally.

"I..."

Every time he thought he could say something, words failed him. Then, you took it as another opportunity to word-vomit everything you've been feeling. "I was... I was jealous. I didn't like to see that. I didn't like that it happened. But I also know that I have no right to be upset with you because you're single and she's attractive and you're both consenting and willing to do whatever you please, so..." You shrugged as if speaking those words aloud didn't stab new holes in your heart.

Spencer looked at you, totally speechless. It made you snicker. And speak further. Shut up, you idiot. Please, please, please! "And, ah—hahahah—I guess I am, indeed, a bit of a robot because it took me a bit of alcohol to pluck up the courage to come here and totally—hic—destroy our friendship by telling you I love you so much; that I'd hate to see you with anyone other than me. It happened and I hated it. It still stings."

Spencer's heart threatened to fail once again. Your giggles, your words, your confession... His mind completely short-circuited. She loved him. She loved him? She loved him?!?!???!!! That’s what she’d just said, apparently. Okay, calm down. And she’d been jealous. She didn’t like him kissing another woman, because she fucking loved him. Say something, you dumb idiot, his brain shrieked. Say something!

You parted your lips to say something else, but apparently decided against it. Another beat of silence of Spencer staring dumbly at you. "I'm going," you blurted out, standing up.

Spencer, at breakneck speed, stood up as well to stop you from walking away, placing his hands tentatively on your shoulders. Your bodies were now apart by mere inches. "No." His voice was so small and pained that you sat back down.

Despite your apparent willingness, your next words told him about your turmoil. "Why would I stay, Spencer? I've been pouring my heart out to you and you haven't said a thing."

Looking at you, so bare and so vulnerable, Spencer suddenly had flashbacks from when he had lashed out on you earlier and simultaneously fought the feelings that were bubbling inside of him upon your confession. Couldn't you see the sheer shock on his face? Couldn't you see that he was battling against every single bit of self restraint not to pull you into his embrace and make you believe him when he would tell you that you were the only woman for him?

Sure, he had dreamed of you saying those words to him countless times as time went by and you two got closer. Shit, he literally dreamed of it. Of you. Speaking sweet nothings to him... He broke out of his daze, realizing that he was deadly silent, "Don't go..."

"Then say something. I'm here. Not as Hotch's daughter, not as your coworker, not as a part of the team you work with. I'm here as the woman in whose heart you've grown over the last few months. I'm terrified of your answer and you keep depriving me of it." There was a hint of annoyance and hurry on your voice, and he could understand you, he truly could. He just didn't... he lost his voice when he looked at you.

Saying your name softly, he beginned, “I said stupid, untrue things, and I’m sorry. I’m a jerk, and I know that I’m a jerk and—" You quirked your eyebrow and he took a deep breath, trying to cut his rant. "Just... don't sit there and think that I have nothing to say."

"Have you said it?" You pressed it, quirking an eyebrow.

"No." He admitted, widening his eyes a bit as he realized his mistake.

At the same time, you shot, "Not saying something is also an answer for me—"

"—but not for the reasons you're thinking! Do you know how hard it is for me right now?" Spencer was starting to sound very desperate and pathetic, not to mention the fact that he wasn't answering your questions.

Deep breaths (from both ends).

"Look, Reid..." He glared at you upon hearing his last name. "I think I should go home. You and I clearly need some space—"

"What we need to do is talk."

You sighed. "Then why won't you give me an answer?"

Silence.

"You won't even remember this in the morning."

At that, you deemed yourself utterly defeated. This was useless. "I'm sorry I came over. I'm... I'll just go, okay? Please, don't be upset about tonight. I apologize in advance."

The sight of her, once more shying away from him and turning to escape from him, was making Spencer frustrated, with himself, to no end. His heart clenched at your apology, to which he shook his head vehemently. The thing is, he wanted to get ready to answer you, properly, just like he always had some trick up his sleeve or some funny or curious fact to blurt during the most random moments. Spencer was good at speaking, but only when the speech was already ingrained into his mind, something he had read or rehearsed before. Plus, he was sure your state of drunkenness would stop you from remembering that moment.

Spencer dashed to his door, barely stopping you. No, no, no, no, no... She can't leave. This might be my only chance. "You're not going anywhere."

"Excuse me?"

"Stay with me. I don't want you to go." He said, softly, slowly, looking straight into your eyes. It made you dizzy. Either that or the alcohol.

"No?"

"Y-you're drunk and I... I don't think it's safe for you to go by yourself and it's late and... and..." he trailed off, nervously, desperate to get you to stay.

"I'm not drunk."

"You're not fooling me. You might be as concise as ever but you're not sober. Stay."

"Promise... promise you won't be upset with me?"

His heart dropped, heavy with guilt. And with love for you. "I promise."

Spencer silently led you back to the couch, gingerly holding your hand. He felt dazzled, speechless, desperate, frustrated, all at once. But your touch was starting to ground him back to reality, where you were real, having confessed your feelings for him, and he was a mess, not even being able to say anything back. Without much thinking, he said, "You should stay over tonight."

"Okay... I'll take the couch."

"As if I'd let you sleep on the couch."

"It's okay."

"Stop... stop acting like I sent you away."

You kept silent. You felt like he did. Through his touch, he hoped to get you to understand that his feelings were a mess, but they existed, and they were real, and they were yours. "That'd be alright with me, you know. Taking your couch. I think I would sleep better on your floor than I would ever in my bed. To... to say that anything is better if you're somehow involved."

His stomach made a flip-flop. Brain short-circuited again. You yawned, as if you had just made an annoying comment on the weather.

"Are you tired?" He managed to mutter.

"I am."

"Come on. Let's get you to bed."

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'? I'm not letting you on the couch. Come on."

"I can't go to your bed with outside clothes." You booped his nose.

He chuckled lowly, confused a little by your words. "Are you seriously worried about clothes?"

"You don't like germs. That's why I removed my shoes."

Okay, he thought, if I manage to put her to sleep without having a heart attack, I definitely don't need a cardiologist's appointment because it would mean I'm that strong.

"Y-you... remembered?" Damn it, Reid. Stop stuttering.

You sighed, tiredly, and rested your head on his shoulder, looking down at his hand holding yours. "I remember everything about you."

"You do?"

"Yes. Fortunately or unfortunately."

Spencer was too stunned to speak. Too stunned, too dumb, too afraid. Damn it. Damn it. He couldn't stop cursing internally. He forced himself to pull you towards his bedroom and even though he still sensed some uncertainty, he kept going. Reaching for a pair of sweatpants and a big t-shirt, he gave those to you. "You can change into these," as he left the room to make you more comfortable.

"Wait!" You almost shrieked.

"What happened?" He prompted, worriedly, reaching a hand out to touch your arm.

"I don't want you to go."

He bit back a sigh. "I'll be just outside."

"Just... stay here?"

"I can't—" he interrupted himself, just turning around so his back was to you instead. At that, he looked up at his ceiling and prayed to any deity to let him survive that night.

He could hear the sounds of your movements. The zipper being undone, the soft ruffling of the fabric as you tugged your shirt up your head... He was imagining your exposed skin, every perfect inch, how would you look without all those clothes that suited you so nicely, how would it be to touch you, to run his fingertips all over your heated skin, how would it be to kiss every freckle on your body, to—"Done."

Turning around, the sight was adorable, which made him somewhat guilty of his early impure thoughts. "I feel like Alice when she shrunk into a tiny human."

He couldn't fight the smile at your words. He led you to his bed, where you laid on your back on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling. Spencer left you briefly to get you a glass of water and some painkillers to leave by the bedside table. You thanked him with a silent glance. As he turned to leave, once again, you said in a small voice, almost phrasing it like a question, too afraid of the answer. "Stay."

"I'll take the couch."

"You asked me to stay, thrice, I guess… And I did. I asked you once and you did. I still have a few requests left. I'm keeping tabs."

He relented, laying next to you and placing a pillow between you two. You breathed out a chuckle and he shook his head, clearly knowing where your mind had gone to. He placed his hand on top of the pillow, offering his comfort, and then you tentatively placed yours on top of his. He grinned to himself.

It was hard for him to wrap his head around what had happened that night. He knew his words — or lack of — could be read the wrong way and you possibly did, but he also hoped that his actions were speaking louder. Just as he was getting lost in thought again, he heard your voice once more.

"Spence?"

That damned nickname.

"Thanks for, um, being so respectful. Not that I don't think you'd be. But, um, as you've said, I'm drunk. And I told you I love you. And you're simply holding my hand." He gulped. He was keeping count, too, of how many times you said you loved him. Twice, so far, but he wanted so much more, endlessly. He wanted to lose track. "I guess... that makes me love you even more," you finished, crushing his heart between your palms, voice thick with sleep.

When he finally turned his head to look at you, your eyes were closed and you looked peaceful, drifting off to sleep. Then, when he was sure you were actually asleep, he stood up from his bed, grabbing a pillow and a spare blanket to lay on the floor.

"I'll gladly sleep on my floor if it means I get to have you around, too..."

—

Spencer didn't get any sleep.

He tossed and turned on the floor all night long, both because his carpet was not the most comfortable spot to sleep on, but also and mostly because there was no way in hell his mind stopped working. All through the night, Spencer fought the urge to shake you awake to ask if this was real, if you really loved him, if the words that slipped through your lips were in fact your feelings towards him. Despite his curiosity and eagerness, he let you sleep, figuring that he had already put you through too much already. As you slept, a movie played on his mind: your moments together, your confession of love, and overthinking the words we are not something. We are not a thing. He feared that you would wake up and realize how badly he had screwed up and decide not to want him anymore. Yes, he was that anxious.

You, on the other hand, even though confused by his lack of answer to your heart’s words, felt lighter than ever by speaking out your truth (the booze did help you a lot, though). Being as analytical as you were had its perks. One of them is that you never let yourself suffer too much for too long, too attached to reality to care much about the rest. So what if he rejected you? Life goes on — and that’s what you thought with every other loser that you caught yourself thinking too much of. Spencer, though… Who were you kidding? Spencer was Spencer. And that meant the world… It wasn’t so bad, if he actually rejected you… you’d only have to face him every day, until the rest of your lives, doomed to work together, cursed to think and rethink all over again small, fleeting moments such as an exchange of longing glances.

(You felt strangely calm due to your touch with reality. Maybe, just maybe, you were hoping for the best based on his care with and for you. But boy, were you ready to give him a piece of your mind.)

As your eyes fluttered open, you stretched your limbs on an unfamiliar bed with too much space. Upon your confusion, the memories came back with full force. You jolted, sitting down, searching for him — and, to be honest, not wanting to find him. The house was deadly silent, so you tried to trick yourself that you were sure he wasn't there. You dashed to the bathroom, taking a quick shower to get rid of the shame and the faint reek of alcohol. As you moved around his stuff, you couldn't help but think that you were so familiar with his things that it was almost like you belonged there. Sigh. It turns out that hiding emotions is easier than feeling them, especially their extremes.

As soon as you finished putting on your own clothes, you stopped dead in your tracks as you heard footsteps outside the bedroom. You froze, not knowing what to say. Or do.

Spencer entered the room, holding a tray meticulously organized with some food on it. “Morning. I, um, made you breakfast.” Because of course he would make you fucking breakfast. 

“Morning,” you replied awkwardly and hoarsely. Maybe you cried a little bit, who knows… “Thanks, you didn't have to.”

“I did.”

You take your time to get a good look at him. He had bags under his eyes that appeared to be tired. The sight made your heart drop. “I'm sorry…”

“Don't be.”

“But I was wrong.”

“So was I.”

“But—”

“Last night you said some things. Do you, uh, do you remember what you told me?” You nodded, unable to speak. “Do you remember what you told me?” He repeated, trying to get a verbal answer from you.

“Yes, Spencer. I remember.”

“Can you listen to what I have to say now?”

You nodded, weakly.

“I didn't say anything because… because everything had gone in the most opposite direction they could've gone.” He said, approaching you calmly. “I was up the entire night, hoping to find the right words to tell you that would make you believe me after I… was stupid. I… First, I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I know you said that we're nothing, that we weren't something, that we didn't have anything… but… but you're everything to me.” At that, your eyes finally met his. The intensity of your gaze made him shudder, but he kept going. “All the time we've spent together was nothing compared to what I want to have with you… and… and… God! Do you have any idea of the torture I was put through with you? Constantly thinking of what we could be, what we should be, too scared of your reaction or that—that—that Hotch decided to chop off my neck because he found out that I was crushing on his only daughter!”

At the mention of your dad, you burst out laughing. Seriously? That was such a cliché! “Hey! I'm serious!”

“I'm sorry…” You bit your bottom lip, fighting the urge to laugh at him some more. He was adorable.

“As I was saying,” he continued, trying to sound annoyed, but a hint of a smile threatened to break on his lips, and he didn't pull away when you approached him nor he did when you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his chest, looking up at him, adoringly. He looked down, meeting your gaze,  “I… I love you. I love you too. God, it just feels so good to say that!”

You giggled, again. God, he could never get used to that sound.

“And I’m sorry for being so mean to you when I was frustrated. I should have been more patient and my unthoughtful words hurt you.” You kept silent, remembering his words. “I—I’ll spend the rest of my life apologizing if you’ll have me.” He added, intimidated by your gaze.

Silence. “Well, I accept your apologies. I was unfair to you as well. And you know where I stand when it comes to you. My feelings, I mean.”

“I do… But…”

“But?”

“I'd like to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you love me?”

“I don't know. Do I, really?” You joked.

He blushed furiously, ready to stutter himself out of that situation. “No, I mean… you—you said that—that you remembered what you said last night and… so… putting two and two…”

Another giggle interrupted him. You traced his jawline, leaning up to kiss his right cheek. “I really, really love you.” A kiss to his left cheek. He chuckled. “I love you.” A kiss on the tip of his nose, to which he snorted, totally lovestruck. “So much.” A lingering, tender kiss to his forehead. He closed his eyes, already anticipating the next spot you would press your soft lips to.

As you made your way to finally kiss his lips, you decided to tease him and let him wait for a bit longer. Spencer groaned in protest and you chuckled a bit, finally deciding that it was enough. Pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth, making him sigh, you were thrilling on making him more and more eager. His grip on you tightened just slightly as he let out a shaky breath. You wanted to laugh, but instead, you poked fun at him. “Now you know what it's like to be teased.”

“I love you. Oh, Jesus… You're driving me insane. You're here… And you, you're you…”

You grinned, looking up at him, finally, finally pressing your lips to his. As you let out a small sigh, his breath hitched, both of you utterly drowning in relief and satisfaction. You pulled back a bit, grinning, going back to kissing him. Spencer's hands found your jawline, sliding back to tangle in your hair as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth. Parting your lips slightly, you granted him full access to kiss you properly, and he moaned at the taste of you, gripping your hair rougher than before. You groaned softly, and he proudly heard and swallowed all your small sounds.

The ring of a phone broke the urgent atmosphere that was building between you two. Spencer ignored it, letting it ring until you pulled away, gasping for air. As you did, the noise stopped and you met his lost eyes, totally dumbstruck, and you laughed because you probably looked the same way. He gave you a charming, lopsided grin, too stupid, too hypnotized to say anything.

The phone began ringing again. “Son of a…!” he cursed, picking up the phone. “Hi, this is Dr. Spencer Reid and unless this is an absolute emergency, I'm kinda busy—”

“Reid.” Aaron Hotchner's firm voice hit Spencer like a bucket of cold water. Widening his eyes, he gulped.

“Yes… sir?” You smiled at that. Of course you knew who he was talking to.

“We have a new case.” Hotch announced.

“Oh… okay… I, um, I—I'll be there in 20.”

Silence.

“Is everything okay, Reid?” Hotchner could read anyone, Spencer was now sure of that. Even through the goddamned phone.

“Wh—yeah, yeah… Everything's… totally f—fine.” He cursed under his breath as you gripped his vest, trying not to laugh.

“Do you know where she is?” Hotch inquired after another moment of quietness. 

“Who?” He squeaked. You chuckled silently.

“My daughter.” Of course it was his daughter.

Playing dumb is not a good look on you, you mouthed.

“N—no… I haven't… heard from her.”

“Sure.” Hotch said, skeptically. Spencer could feel the sweat on his forehead. After a moment, your father finished the call with an unreadable “We need to talk.”

Once the phone call ended, you burst out laughing at Spencer's reaction. “Not funny.” He protested, a frown on his face and a soft smile betraying his faux frustration.

“Come on, it is funny.”

He glared at you. “What do you think he wants to talk about?”

“I don't know. Men talk. I wouldn't want to get involved.” You said, grinning, pulling him by his vest.

He squeezed his eyes shut, relishing in the feeling of having you so close. “Do you think he knows?”

“Of course he knows.”

“How are you so collected?”

“Because I'm not the one he's going to scare to death, apparently.”

“He said ‘we’ need to talk. Emphasizing ‘we’. If he knows you’re here, then it probably—” you cut him off with a kiss.

“Well, then… Are you ready to face your biggest fear? The frightening Aaron Hotchner?”

Glancing at you adoringly, he chuckled. “I’d face him and whoever, whatever, a thousand times, if it meant that I could get you in the end.”

—

A couple days after the case, you and Spencer meet again, in your apartment. Sitting down on the couch, you ask him, amusedly, “Do you think he noticed?” 

“Totally. I could barely look him in the eye for the first moments,” He said with a fond smile, hiding from you the fact that he had awkwardly and bravely spoken to your dad about your relationship. You laughed, placing your legs on the top of his legs. “I guess we should thank Lila, after all.” He joked, and you laughed out loud. 

Leaning him closer to him, grabbing his chin and looking deep into his eyes, you muttered, “Don’t ever say her name again, Spence.”

Your wish was always his command. It would always be.

[paige05bby]

Favorite Crime

summary: A UConn cheerleader reflects on a forbidden, passionate romance with basketball star Paige Bueckers.

a/n: based on Favorite Crime by Olivia Rodrigo

warning(s): just tension & heartbreak (sad ending)

pairing: paige bueckers x cheerleader!reader

“All the things I did, just so I could call you mine.”

It started like every cliché I’d ever scoffed at—a stolen glance, a lingering touch, a shared secret. Paige Bueckers was everything I was supposed to avoid. She was magnetic, untouchable, the golden girl of UConn basketball. Everyone wanted her, and she knew it.

I wasn’t supposed to be different. Just another cheerleader she charmed with her cocky smirk and honeyed words. But when she kissed me for the first time under the bleachers after a game, her hands gripping my waist like she’d fall apart if she let go, I let myself believe I was special.

She told me I wasn’t like the others, and I wanted it to be true. So I fell. Hard and fast, like a freefall with no parachute. I gave her everything—my time, my trust, my heart—even as the cracks began to form.

“The things you did, well, I hope I was your favorite crime.”

At first, it felt like a dream. She’d wait for me after practice, her hair still damp from the showers, her grin lighting up the hallway as she pulled me into a corner to kiss me senseless. She’d sneak into my dorm room after midnight, her laughter low and breathless as she whispered promises I was too desperate to question.

But then the lies started. The late nights she couldn’t explain. The unanswered texts. The faint smell of perfume on her hoodie that wasn’t mine.

“Do you still talk to them?” I asked one night, my voice barely above a whisper.

Her expression was unreadable as she tilted her head, feigning confusion. “Talk to who?”

“You know who.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You’re overthinking again. Why does it matter?”

“Because it feels like I’m not enough for you,” I said, my voice cracking.

She stepped closer, her hands sliding around my waist. “You’re all I need,” she murmured, her lips brushing against mine. And for a moment, I believed her. I always believed her.

“You used me as an alibi, I crossed my heart as you crossed the line.”

But the doubts didn’t go away. I started noticing the way other girls looked at her, the way they lingered after games, desperate for her attention. Sometimes, I’d catch her flirting with them, her smile just a little too familiar, her laugh a little too easy.

“You can’t keep doing this,” I told her after one particularly painful moment, my voice shaking as we stood in the empty gym.

She shrugged, her eyes gleaming with something I couldn’t name. “They don’t mean anything,” she said. “You’re the one I go home to.”

But it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.

“It’s bittersweet to think about the damage that we’d do.”

The fight happened after the biggest game of the season. She’d hit the game-winning shot, the crowd roaring as her teammates lifted her into the air. I should’ve been proud. I should’ve been happy.

But when I saw her outside the locker room, leaning casually against the wall with that infuriating smirk, all I felt was anger.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice sharp.

“Thought you’d want to congratulate me ma,” she said, her tone light but her eyes serious.

“Congrats,” I said flatly, brushing past her. “You’re amazing. We all know it.”

Her hand shot out, grabbing my wrist. “Don’t do this,” she said, her voice low.

“Do what?” I snapped, spinning to face her. “Point out that you only care about me when it’s convenient? That you disappear whenever it gets hard?”

Her jaw tightened, her eyes flashing. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” My voice rose, the words spilling out in a torrent of frustration and pain. “You act like I’m the only one, but you’re everywhere, Paige. You flirt with everyone, and I’m supposed to just… be okay with it?”

“You think I don’t love you?” she shot back, her voice trembling with anger.

“I think you don’t know how to,” I said, my voice breaking. “You love the attention, the game, the chase. But me? I’m just another name on your list.”

She stared at me, her breathing heavy, her expression unreadable. “You don’t get it,” she finally said, her voice cold. “I’ve given you everything I can.”

“Well, it’s not enough,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face.

“I hope I was your favorite crime.”

Years Later

The Dallas skyline glittered in the night as I adjusted my uniform, the sparkle of my cheerleading outfit catching in the stadium lights. It was just another Cowboys game, just another night in a life that was supposed to make me forget her.

And then I saw her.

She was standing on the sideline, WNBA warmups hanging off her tall frame, laughing with someone from the press. Paige. The same Paige. Older, sharper, somehow even more magnetic than she’d been back then.

My breath caught, my heart lurching in my chest as her eyes flicked over to me.

For a second, I thought she might not recognize me. But then her lips curved into that familiar smirk, and suddenly, I was 19 again, standing under the bleachers with her hands on my waist.

“Hey, stranger,” she said when she finally approached, her voice low and teasing.

“Paige,” I managed, forcing a smile. “Didn’t know you were in Dallas.”

She gestured to her jersey, the Dallas Wings logo bold on her chest. “Been here for a year. Guess we’re both in the same city again, huh?”

I laughed nervously, the weight of our history pressing down on me. “Yeah. Small world.”

Her eyes softened, the smirk fading. “You look good,” she said quietly. “Really good.”

I swallowed hard, my heart racing. “So do you.”

We stood there, the noise of the stadium fading into the background as the past crashed between us. I wanted to say so much—to ask if she ever thought about me, if she missed me, if she’d ever truly loved me.

But all I managed was, “It’s good to see you, Paige.”

She nodded, her smile wistful. “You too.”

And just like that, she was gone, walking back to her team, leaving me with the ache of everything we’d been and everything we never would be.

Paige Bueckers was still my greatest heartbreak, my deepest regret, and my favorite crime.

[breelandwalker]

Wolf Moon - January 13 2025

Shake off the cold and sing to the sky, witches - it’s time for the Wolf Moon!

Wolf Moon

The Wolf Moon is the name given to the full moon which occurs in the month of January. The name is said to be derived from the sound of wolves howling with hunger while prey is scarce in the midst of winter. Given that we now know that wolves howl mostly for communication, my personal opinion is that people huddled in their homes during a very dark and dangerous time of year probably noticed these sounds a lot more readily with little else to occupy their time as they waited out the winter, and thus were set to worrying about ravenous beasts invading their villages and farmsteads. (It’s worth noting that wolves preying on livestock was a very real concern for most people outside major cities for many centuries, so this isn’t entirely unfounded.)

The name also calls to mind the howling of the wind during winter storms, or whistling around the eaves during the long cold nights. And for those of us who might not have been careful with our spending over the holidays, I might cite a tongue-in-cheek reference to the wolves being at the door when those credit card bills come due.

[For those not familiar with the English phrase, to have “a wolf at the door” is a saying that refers to some imminent hardship or disaster. In modern parlance, this is usually applied to poor finances or looming bankruptcy.]

This month, the moon peaks at 5:27pm EST on Monday January 13th, so the moon may appear to be full on the nights of the 12th or 13th, depending on where you are in the world.

Some North American indigenous names for the month of January and its’ moon are Cold Moon (Cree), Center Moon (Assiniboine), Severe Moon (Dakota), Ice Moon (Catawba), and Spirit Moon (Ojibwe). Other names include Mantis Moon (South African origins), Quiet Moon (Celtic), and Moon After Yule (Anglo-Saxon).

What Does It Mean For Witches?

As a new year dawns, it’s time for rest and reflection before we set out on the next phase of our journey. While the cold weather lingers, take some time to sit by the fire, literally or metaphorically, and take stock of where you stand, what resources are available, and what you plan to do with them.

Check in with your near-and-dear following the mad rush of the holiday season as well. Make sure that friends, family, and community members around you are doing all right. Offer support and kindness where you can, but don’t overextend yourself. It’s your time to recuperate too, and it is good and healthy to set boundaries which allow time and space for yourself.

While it's a bit early to expect progress on our goals and resolutions, the beginning of a new calendar year is a good time to lay the foundation for what we intend to do with the year to come and to reflect on the year that has just ended. It's also the perfect time for self-assessment in your craft. Take a moment to acknowledge where you are, how you've grown, and what you might like to do next. Perhaps do some journaling on the subject, if you're so inclined. You can outline your craft knowledge and beliefs, mark the lessons you've learned, or record your progress. (This is a great way to measure future milestones and personal growth!)

What Witchy Things Can We Do?

Winter is a prime time for storytelling. Back in the days before internet or television or radio, people would often read to each other or tell tales to pass the time. Consider re-reading a favorite book that inspires you or exploring some region of folklore or mythology you’ve been meaning to look into. If you have children who are of an age to enjoy stories, read them some of your favorites or introduce them to something new. Share stories and discussions with your witchy circle too!

While you’re at it, take a moment to examine the role that folklore and stories play in your practice. If you subscribe to a particular mythos, be it through deities or just general belief, consider which parts of it resonate the most with you and why.

Consider also the lessons of the winter season - the necessity of rest between periods of growth and activity, and the role of death, cold, and darkness in the natural cycles of life. What do these things mean to you and your practice? Are they a source of fear or fascination? Do you come alive in the winter or bundle up and wait for spring? How can you best remind yourself to pause for breath as the year goes on?

And of course, the beginning of a new year is an excellent time for goal-setting and divination. You’re making resolutions for your mundane life, so make a few for your craft while you’re at it, and pull out your cards or runes or pendulum for a New Year forecast on how things might go. If you need some ideas or inspiration, you can check out this article on Casting The Bones or try this craft-building exercise to Create Your Own Personal Runes.

Happy Wolf Moon, witches! 🐺🌕

SOURCES & FURTHER READING:

Bree’s Lunar Calendar Series

Bree’s Secular Celebrations Series

Wolf Moon: Full Moon in January, The Old Farmer’s Almanac.

Why The 2025 January Wolf Moon Is So Insanely Powerful, The Peculiar Brunette.

Casting The Bones: How to Read and Throw Bones, The Peculiar Brunette.

Witchcraft Exercise - Creating Your Own Runes, Bree NicGarran. (Masterlist here)

Moon Info - Full Moon Dates for 2025

Calendar-12 - 2025 Moon Phases

Everyday Moon Magic: Spells & Rituals for Abundant Living, Dorothy Morrison, Llewellyn Publications, 2004.

Image Source: What Is A Wolf Moon?, The Fact Site.

(If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar, check out my monthly show Hex Positive, and find my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)

[cocobeanncteez]

The CEO Collision - Part Four

Pairing: CEO!Seonghwa x CEO!reader (f)

Warnings / content for Part Four: alcohol consumption, profanities, angst, seonghwa talks about a toxic person in his past, mention of a restraining order and going through a rough breakup, lotssss of fluff in this part after the initial angst parts. Please note that other than Ateez, all other character names used are fictional.

Word Count: 9.3k

Masterlist for The CEO Collision

A month later, your relationship with Seonghwa had evolved into something far more intense than you’d ever expected. Your days were filled with teasing glances, stolen kisses, and luxurious dates that always ended in nights that left you breathless, and overall, a lot of sex. It was magnetic, fiery, and consuming in the best way.

Yet, in the quiet moments, when the rush of adrenaline faded, a nagging thought lingered at the back of your mind. You still hadn’t asked him about the past.

You’d told yourself it didn’t matter. That the way he touched you, cared for you, and looked at you as though you were his entire world was enough. And maybe it was—until the reality of your arrangement crept in. You couldn’t ignore the fact that the delay in finalizing your engagement had real consequences for his company. You knew Seonghwa wouldn’t push you, but every passing day added to the strain.

But tonight, that would change.

If you were going to marry this man, you needed to understand everything—especially if it involved you.

The soft glow of candlelight illuminated your living room as you sat curled on the couch, waiting for him to arrive. You’d invited him over for dinner, deciding that the intimacy of your home would make the conversation easier, and because your family was away on a business trip that didn’t require your presence.

When the bell rang, your heart raced. You opened the door to find Seonghwa standing there, as composed and handsome as ever, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand.

“For you,” he said with a small smile, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you,” you replied, stepping aside to let him in. His presence filled the space effortlessly, the air shifting the way it always did when he was near.

Dinner was a quiet affair, filled with comfortable silences and the occasional light-hearted remark. But as the plates were cleared and the mood turned softer, you knew it was time.

“Seonghwa,” you started, your voice steady, though your hands fidgeted with the edge of the napkin in your lap. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

He set his wine glass down, his expression softening but still attentive. “What’s on your mind, my love?”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “I… never really asked you about our past… the reason I resented you for so long.”

Seonghwa reached for your hands, his thumbs brushing gentle circles on your skin. “I’ve had a feeling you wanted to talk about this. I didn’t push because I wanted you to bring it up when you felt ready.”

“I just…” You hesitated, searching his face for a reaction. “You know, we slept together so many times before, and the next day, you acted like it didn’t matter. I understand we were drunk out of our minds, but… I don’t know. Maybe I don’t understand why things never grew between us back then?”

He sighed, his gaze dipping to where your hands intertwined. “I owe you the truth about that.” He paused, his tone carrying a weight that made your chest tighten. “I’ve always had feelings for you since we were 23, Y/N. Always. But… there were things happening back then that made it impossible for me to act on them.”

You frowned, tilting your head. “What things?”

“Do you know Shin Nayeon?” he asked cautiously.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you nodded. “Shin Group’s daughter?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “When I was younger, my parents had an informal agreement with hers. It was one of those old-fashioned things—two families joking about marrying off their children to secure business ties. My parents never took it seriously, but hers did.”

You blinked, surprised by the revelation. “So… what happened?”

“When I turned 21, the Shins started pushing for an engagement,” he explained. “At the time, I was dating someone… someone I thought I’d marry. But Nayeon found out and intervened. She told my girlfriend at that time some horrible things, things that weren’t true, and it ended us.”

Your heart clenched at the sadness in his voice. “That’s awful.”

“She was relentless,” Seonghwa continued, his jaw tightening, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a rare vulnerability. “She spread rumors, made demands, and even tried to manipulate my parents. But they refused to entertain her. I thought that would be enough to stop her, but she didn’t back off. I filed a restraining order, but it was useless. Her family had too much influence—they got it dismissed before it even mattered.”

You absorbed his words, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. “So, when we…”

“I was protecting you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, yet the weight of his words hung heavily in the air. “I knew what I felt for you was real, but I couldn’t trust myself to keep you safe. Everything that came with being involved with me felt like too much of a risk. Nayeon would’ve found a way to hurt you, to drag you into her chaos. And…” He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor before returning to yours. “You’re Joong’s sister. He knew about Nayeon and what she was capable of. If I got involved with you and anything happened, he would’ve lost his mind.”

You processed his words, your emotions swirling. “Joong knew?”

“He knew about Nayeon,” Seonghwa admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not about my feelings for you, though. But even without that, he was protective of you. If I’d let things progress between us, especially with you being from a wealthy family, Nayeon would’ve weaponized the media against you to have her way. I couldn’t let that happen.”

You looked at him, the conflict evident in his expression. “So, instead, you pushed me away... multiple times.”

“I thought it was the right thing to do,” he said, his voice thick with regret. “I thought I was sparing you from the mess, but I realize now that I just hurt you instead. I’m sorry, Y/N. I was selfish and scared.”

You stared at him, the weight of his confession sinking in. It explained so much—his distance, the tension, and the unspoken emotions between you all these years.

“I wish you’d told me sooner,” you said finally, your tone softer than you expected.

“I wish I had too,” he replied earnestly. “But now, I’m telling you everything because I don’t want to make the same mistake again. I want us to move forward with no secrets between us.”

You nodded slowly, feeling the honesty in his words. “Thank you for telling me.”

“And thank you for listening,” he said, his voice warm. The tension in the room eased slightly, but the connection between you only deepened. For the first time, it felt like the past wasn’t a barrier but a bridge to understanding each other better.

“So what happened to Nayeon after?” you asked, breaking the momentary silence. “I know she’s married now.”

“After nearly five years of harassing me, the Moon family approached her parents with a proposal for their second youngest son,” Seonghwa said, leaning back slightly, his expression a mix of relief and lingering exasperation. “He’s quite handsome and from a ridiculously wealthy family. One day, she came up to me and said she found someone more handsome and richer, and then just like that, she left me alone. I didn’t trust it at first, but after her wedding went through, I could finally breathe.”

You raised an eyebrow, incredulous. “Five years? That’s… insane.”

“It was,” he admitted, a bitter chuckle escaping him. “By the time she finally moved on, I had gotten used to looking over my shoulder. It took a while to realize she was really gone.”

You let his words sink in, the weight of what he’d endured slowly settling in your mind. “And during all that… you and I…”

“It was when we were pursuing our master’s degrees,” Seonghwa interjected, his gaze softening as he recalled the memory. “Do you remember?”

You nodded, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I remember waking up the next morning, hoping to see you still there,” he continued, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. “But you were gone. San and Jongho saw you leaving my place. They weren’t subtle about their surprise.”

You felt a twinge of embarrassment but pushed through it. “Yeah, well… I wasn’t exactly thinking straight back then.”

“It was a complicated time,” Seonghwa said gently, his eyes holding yours. “What threw me off was when I found out later that you got back together with your ex. I asked Joong about you, and he told me the news like it was nothing. I… wasn’t sure how to feel.”

You bit your lip, the weight of his words making your heart ache. “I didn’t know, Seonghwa. I had no idea how much it mattered to you back then.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “I never said anything. I didn’t fight for what I wanted. I let the circumstances and my fears control me.”

You reached out, placing a hand on his. “Well, you’re here now, and so am I. Maybe it wasn’t the right time then, but it feels like it is now.”

His lips curved into a soft smile, his fingers intertwining with yours. “I’ll make sure I don’t waste it this time.”

The quiet promise in his voice sent a warmth through you, solidifying the unspoken understanding that despite the twists and turns of your past, you were both ready to move forward together.

-x-x-x-

Seonghwa adjusted his tie as he sat in the elegant sitting room of your family’s mansion. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the large windows, casting a warm glow on the polished wood and tasteful decor. Your mother poured tea into delicate china cups, while your father leaned back in his chair, observing Seonghwa with an approving smile.

“I must say, Seonghwa,” your father began, his voice warm, “it’s always a pleasure having you here. Though, I admit I’m curious about the purpose of this visit. Joong told us you had something important to discuss.”

Seonghwa straightened his posture, his expression a mix of confidence and sincerity. “Yes, sir. I do.”

Hongjoong, who had been lounging casually on the couch, suddenly perked up, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Seonghwa. “This sounds serious.”

“It is,” Seonghwa admitted, taking a steadying breath. “I wanted to speak with you all because it concerns Y/N and our future together.”

Your mother’s hands paused mid-air as she reached for her tea. She exchanged a glance with your father, her curiosity piqued. “Go on,” she encouraged, her tone kind but intrigued.

Seonghwa clasped his hands together, leaning slightly forward. “I would like to ask for your permission to propose to Y/N.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the gravity of his words sinking in. Your parents shared a look of surprise, and even Hongjoong looked momentarily caught off guard even though Seonghwa told him before that he’d rather propose; he didn’t think Seonghwa would actually go through with it.

“A proposal?” your father echoed, his eyebrows raising slightly. “That’s… unexpected. Families like ours typically sit down and come to a mutual agreement about engagements.”

“I understand,” Seonghwa replied, his voice steady and respectful. “But I don’t want this to be just a formality or a business decision. Y/N means far more to me than that. I want to ask her properly, to show her that this is about love and partnership, not just obligation or tradition.”

Your mother’s expression softened, a pleased smile curving her lips. “That’s quite thoughtful of you, Seonghwa. I must say, it’s refreshing to hear this perspective.”

Hongjoong leaned back, crossing his arms. “You do realize Y/N isn’t exactly the easiest person to win over, right? You’re sure about this?”

“More than anything,” Seonghwa replied without hesitation.

Your father nodded slowly, a hint of pride in his eyes. “Well, I have to say, Seonghwa, you’ve impressed us since the very beginning. We’ve seen how much you respect and care for Y/N, and that’s what matters most to us.”

“Absolutely,” your mother added warmly. “You have our blessing.”

Hongjoong smirked, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone this determined to deal with my sister. But you’ve got my support too—just don’t mess it up.”

Seonghwa chuckled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Thank you. All of you. This means a lot to me.”

As he sipped his tea, Seonghwa couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of relief and anticipation. Now all that remained was picking the perfect ring for you and bringing his proposal plans to reality—a moment he was determined to make unforgettable.

-

“Hyung… oh my god, we’ve been to like, eight stores already,” Wooyoung groaned, rubbing his temples dramatically as he leaned against the glass counter of yet another upscale jewelry store. “How hard is it for you to pick a ring? Just pick one. They’re all shiny and expensive. She’ll love any of them.”

Seonghwa, unfazed, inspected yet another diamond solitaire ring under the bright store lights, tilting it slightly to see how the facets caught the light. “It’s not just about shiny and expensive, Wooyoung,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “It has to be perfect. She deserves that.”

Wooyoung threw his hands up in exasperation. “Okay, but does it have to be this hard? We’ve been at this for hours. My feet hurt, my patience is gone, and I think the saleslady over there is about two seconds away from calling security because she thinks we’re casing the place.”

Mingi, who was lounging on one of the plush chairs in the corner, laughed. “To be fair, hyung, you have been scrutinizing every single ring in the city like your life depends on it. At this point, just have one custom-made.”

Seonghwa sighed, placing the ring back onto its velvet display. “I thought about that, but custom orders take weeks, and I don’t want to wait that long. I need the proposal to happen soon.”

“Why the rush?” Wooyoung asked, raising an eyebrow.

Seonghwa hesitated for a moment before replying, “I’ve already waited too long to tell her how I feel. And with everything that’s happened recently… I want her to know I’m serious. I want her to know she’s my future.”

Wooyoung clutched his chest dramatically. “Aww, hyung, that’s so romantic. But also, can you speed this up? I need food. I’m dying here.”

Mingi rolled his eyes. “You’re not dying, Wooyoung. You’re just dramatic.”

As the two bickered, Seonghwa’s eyes fell on a particular ring—a classic design with a round brilliant-cut diamond surrounded by smaller diamonds, set on a delicate platinum band. It wasn’t overly flashy, but it exuded timeless elegance.

The sales associate noticed his interest and stepped forward with a warm smile. “Excellent choice, sir. This one is one of our most popular designs for proposals. It’s simple, yet elegant—a symbol of everlasting love.”

Seonghwa picked it up and examined it closely. It was perfect. It reminded him of you: elegant, understated, yet undeniably captivating.

“This is the one,” he said decisively, slipping the ring back into its box.

“Finally!” Wooyoung groaned, throwing his arms up in mock relief. “Can we eat now?”

Seonghwa chuckled, ignoring his friend’s dramatics. “Get the car while I pay,” he told Wooyoung whom immediately agreed, dragging Mingi along with him.

While Seonghwa paid for the ring, an idea popped up in his head, and he looked at the sales associate with a smirk on his face. “Do you do customized designs? Not for jewelry… but showpieces?”

-

Nari leaned back in her office chair, glancing cautiously at the glass walls of her workspace to ensure no one could overhear her conversation. Holding her phone close, she spoke in a hushed but amused tone.

“Look, Mr. Park, I’m telling you, don’t plan anything for this week,” she said, twirling a pen between her fingers. “Trust me on this—Y/N will not want to be on a yacht or anywhere fancy while she’s on her period.”

There was a short pause before Seonghwa’s voice came through, slightly hesitant. “Are you sure? She didn’t mention anything about it to me.”

Nari rolled her eyes, though her tone remained playful. “Of course she didn’t. She’s not going to tell you something like that directly, especially not when you’re still in the whole ‘charming romantic’ phase of your relationship. That’s why you’ve got me.”

Seonghwa sighed, clearly relieved. “Alright. Next week it is, then. She loves the sea, and I want her to enjoy every moment of it.”

“Exactly,” Nari agreed, tapping her pen against her desk. “Schedule the yacht for next week, and maybe throw in some spa time or a nice dinner this weekend instead. Keep things low-key for now.”

“I appreciate this,” Seonghwa said earnestly. “Thank you, Nari. I owe you one.”

She smirked, leaning forward. “Oh, you owe me more than one. I’m practically your accomplice at this point. If Y/N ever finds out I’m helping you plan all this behind her back, I’m denying everything.”

Seonghwa chuckled softly. “Noted. I’ll make sure to cover for you if it ever comes up.”

“Good,” Nari replied, checking the time. “Now go do your billionaire CEO thing or whatever. I’ve got real work to do.”

Seonghwa’s laughter was warm and genuine. “You’re a lifesaver, Nari. Thanks again.”

As the call ended, Nari shook her head with a small smile. “She better marry this guy,” she muttered under her breath before diving back into her paperwork.

-

Seonghwa stood behind the bar counter at Mingi’s establishment, his sleeves rolled up, a focused expression on his face. The bar was quiet this afternoon, Mingi having locked the doors to ensure no interruptions during their little mixology lesson.

Mingi leaned against the counter, watching Seonghwa’s meticulous movements with a mix of amusement and mild exasperation. “Hyung, you don’t have to look like you’re performing heart surgery. It’s just a cocktail.”

“This is Y/N’s favorite cocktail,” Seonghwa countered, his voice sharp with determination. “She said it’s the best drink in the world. I can’t mess this up.”

Wooyoung, seated on one of the barstools, swirled a mocktail in his hand. “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure if she knew you were going to this length, she’d already be swooning. You don’t have to perfect it, hyung.”

“Perfection is the bare minimum,” Seonghwa shot back, carefully measuring the ingredients. “Tell me again, Mingi. What’s the trick to getting that foam on top just right?”

Mingi smirked, reaching for a shaker. “It’s all in the shake. You’ve got to go hard and fast, no half-hearted effort. Like this.” He demonstrated with exaggerated movements, the shaker rattling loudly in his hands.

Wooyoung snickered. “I’ve seen you use those moves on the dance floor, Mingi. Impressive multitasking.”

Mingi flipped him off without missing a beat. “Watch and learn, Woo.” He poured the mixture into a glass, revealing a perfectly frothy layer. “Now you try, lover boy.”

Seonghwa took the shaker, his brows furrowed in concentration. He mimicked Mingi’s movements, his arms flexing as he shook the cocktail with vigor.

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, leaning toward Mingi. “Hyung’s shaking that thing like it owes him money.”

Mingi snorted, but the laughter died quickly when Seonghwa poured the drink into a glass, revealing a near-perfect foam.

“Not bad,” Mingi admitted, clapping Seonghwa on the back. “You’re a quick learner.”

Seonghwa allowed himself a small, satisfied smile as he garnished the drink with precision. “She’ll love this.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “You’re setting the bar too high for the rest of us, hyung. Can’t wait for Y/N to brag about how her fiancé makes her custom cocktails at home.”

Seonghwa’s expression softened at the word fiancé. “She deserves every bit of effort. I want everything about that night to be perfect.”

Mingi grinned, handing him the recipe card. “Well, you’ve got the drink down. Just don’t forget to actually ask her to marry you between impressing her with cocktails and gazing at her like a lovesick puppy.”

Seonghwa chuckled, slipping the card into his pocket. “Noted. Thanks for this, Mingi. And for keeping it a secret.”

“Anything for true love,” Mingi replied with mock seriousness, raising his mocktail in a toast.

Wooyoung smirked. “Anything except letting me have this cocktail for free, apparently.”

Mingi rolled his eyes. “Pay up or shut up, Woo.”

As the three men exchanged banter, Seonghwa couldn’t help but imagine your reaction, already counting down the days until the proposal.

---

The warm scent of lavender and eucalyptus surrounded you as you settled into the plush spa chair, your nails being meticulously painted by a skilled technician. Yeri sat beside you, her feet soaking in a tub of warm, scented water, a serene smile on her face that made you narrow your eyes suspiciously.

“You’re unusually chipper today,” you remarked, glancing at her out of the corner of your eye.

“Am I not allowed to be happy?” Yeri retorted, feigning offense.

“You dragged me to a whole-day spa retreat out of the blue,” you pointed out. “I mean, I’m not complaining, but what’s the occasion?”

She shrugged, a little too nonchalantly. “Does there have to be an occasion? Maybe I just wanted some girl time with my CEO best friend.”

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Yeri, the last time you did something like this, it was to butter me up before telling me you totaled your car that I bought you for your birthday.”

Yeri gasped dramatically. “I cannot believe you would bring up my darkest moment during such a relaxing day.”

You smirked. “So? What is it? Spill.”

She hesitated, fiddling with the edge of her robe. “Fine. Maybe I just thought you could use a day to unwind. You’ve been busy with work, and… things have been going really well with Seonghwa, haven’t they?”

The mention of his name made your cheeks warm. “They have. But what does that have to do with this?”

“Nothing!” she said quickly, a little too quickly. “I just thought, you know, you deserve to feel pampered.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re acting weird.”

“I am not acting weird,” she insisted, though the guilty flicker in her expression betrayed her.

Before you could press further, the nail technician announced she was finished, and Yeri sprang to her feet. “Massage time!” she said, grabbing your arm and practically dragging you toward the treatment rooms.

“Okay, now you’re definitely up to something,” you said as you followed her, laughing.

Later, during the massage, Yeri lay on her stomach, her face hidden in the cradle of the massage table. “You know,” she said, her voice muffled, “if Seonghwa ever proposes, you better say yes.”

The comment caught you off guard, and you turned your head toward her, frowning. “Where is this coming from?”

“Just saying,” she replied, her tone overly casual. “He’s, like, the perfect guy. Thoughtful, successful, hot…”

You laughed softly. “Are you trying to convince me to marry him?”

“Nope, not at all,” Yeri said quickly. “Just… planting a seed.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “Seonghwa wouldn’t propose, Yeri. This is a business arrangement, so basically like a mutual engagement ceremony, not a get down on one knee kind of thing.”

Yeri bit her lip to stifle her grin. She couldn’t wait to see your reaction tomorrow.

-

The soft hum of the yacht's engine and the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the hull created a serene atmosphere. The sun was beginning its set on the horizon, casting the sky in hues of gold, pink, and lavender. The air was cool, the scent of the ocean salty and fresh, as it tousled your hair and tugged at your fitted white dress. You leaned against the railing of the top deck, your gaze lost in the vast, endless expanse of water, trying to take in the beauty of the moment.

It was peaceful, calming, perfect.

And then you felt Seonghwa’s presence behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was him; you felt him before you saw him. His footsteps were slow, deliberate, the kind that made your heart flutter just a little.

“This view suits you,” his voice broke through the silence, low and intimate.

You turned to face him, catching a glimpse of his slightly tousled hair, the loose white linen shirt he was wearing flowing in the evening breeze. He looked effortlessly handsome, confident, and calm—but you could sense the tension in his jaw, the anticipation in his eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” you replied softly, giving him a smile as you gestured to the horizon. “I can’t remember the last time I had time to enjoy something like this.”

He stepped closer, his gaze not leaving yours. There was something in his eyes—something raw and vulnerable. But it was masked by the usual composure he wore.

“So, this is the yacht you bought?” you asked, unable to hide the playful tone in your voice. “Seems... extravagant.”

His lips curled into a half-smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Sort of,” he said, his tone light and casual, but there was a flicker of something beneath the surface.

You raised an eyebrow, sensing the hesitation. “Sort of?”

He chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “Okay, it’s Jongho’s yacht.”

“Jongho’s?” you repeated, half-laughing. “Didn’t you say you wanted to saw me the yacht you bought? And here I thought you were trying to impress me with your wealth.”

“Well, that too,” he admitted with a sly grin. “But I thought it would be the perfect setting for tonight.”

“Tonight?” You felt a flutter of curiosity in your chest. “What’s so special about tonight?”

He didn’t answer right away, only extended his hand toward you with a slow, deliberate motion. “Come with me. There’s something I want to show you.”

Without another word, you took his hand, your heart thumping against your chest as you followed him down to the main deck. The staff was nowhere in sight; it was just the two of you now, the quiet intimacy of the space wrapping around you.

The dinner table was set perfectly, with crisp white linens, glowing candles, and a stunning bouquet of your favorite flowers sitting in the center. The soft light from the candles flickered in the dimming twilight, casting a warm glow across everything.

You gasped softly, a smile forming on your lips. “Wow… Seonghwa, this is—”

“Do you like it?” he asked, his voice almost tentative.

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from within you. “Like it? I love it.”

He gave you a satisfied smile and pulled out your chair for you, a gentleman as always, though there was an unmistakable edge to his demeanor tonight.

As dinner went on, you were lost in the moment, savoring every bite of food, every glance between you two, and the rare, intimate silence that settled between you. The yacht gently rocked with the waves, the gentle hum of the engine setting a peaceful rhythm. But you could feel the change in the air. Something was different about tonight. Something was building.

When dessert came—a delicate chocolate mousse with fresh berries—Seonghwa suddenly stood up, his movements slow, deliberate. You followed his lead, your curiosity piqued.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice quieter now, more serious than before.

You set your spoon down, meeting his eyes. Your heart was racing now, a small flutter of anticipation at the back of your throat.

His gaze softened as he took a step closer to you, his presence overwhelming. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now.”

You swallowed, your pulse quickening. “What is it?”

Instead of answering, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, velvet box. The moment you saw it, your breath caught in your throat. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Everything seemed to freeze.

“Y/N…” He lowered himself to one knee in front of you, his expression tender and vulnerable. “I know things didn’t start like a typical relationship, but what we’ve built together means everything to me. You mean everything to me, and I’m unconditionally in love with you. You’ve brought joy, peace, and a kind of love into my life I didn’t know I was missing. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And so...”

He opened the box, revealing a stunning diamond ring, its facets catching the soft glow of the candles and reflecting the light as though it was alive. The room seemed to hold its breath as you stared at the ring, then back at him, the love in his eyes almost tangible.

His voice was barely a whisper as he asked, “Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

You couldn’t speak right away, your heart in your throat, but your eyes welled with tears as you stared at him. Everything he’d said, everything he had done to make this moment perfect, flooded over you. The love, the patience, the depth of his feelings for you—it was all too much to process.

With a shaky breath, you whispered, “Yes. Yes, Seonghwa, I’ll marry you.”

His face broke into the widest, most genuine smile you’d ever seen. He slipped the ring onto your finger with trembling hands, his gaze never leaving yours. Then, he stood up, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world,” he murmured against your hair.

You laughed softly, your hands trembling as you touched his chest, feeling his heart beat in sync with yours. “I think we just made each other the happiest.”

The kiss that followed was slow and sweet, filled with the promise of forever. The world seemed to disappear around you, leaving only Seonghwa, your now fiancé, and a love that had finally come full circle.

The sudden sound of cheers broke through the intimate bubble you and Seonghwa had created. You pulled back from the kiss, startled, only to see the yacht staff clapping enthusiastically. A soft laugh escaped your lips as you buried your face in Seonghwa’s chest, overwhelmed and a little embarrassed by the attention.

“They were in on it?” you asked, your voice muffled against him.

Seonghwa chuckled, the vibrations of his laughter soothing. “Of course. I needed some help to make tonight perfect. All our friends helped in some way.”

A photographer you hadn’t noticed before stepped forward, his camera clicking as he captured more pictures of the two of you. He must have been hiding nearby, capturing the entire proposal as it unfolded.

You glanced at Seonghwa, raising an eyebrow playfully. “Pictures too? You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

He smiled down at you, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I didn’t want to forget a single moment of this night. And I thought you might like to have these memories to look back on someday.”

The photographer took a few more shots, stepping back with a satisfied nod. “Congratulations to the both of you,” he said warmly before retreating, likely to give you privacy.

The staff, sensing the moment was still yours to savor, began quietly retreating to their stations, leaving you and Seonghwa alone once more. The candles flickered in the gentle evening breeze, and the faint sound of waves lapping against the yacht filled the silence.

You looked down at the ring now adorning your finger, its brilliance dazzling even in the dim light. “It’s beautiful,” you whispered, running your thumb over the delicate band.

Seonghwa gently tilted your chin up so your eyes met his. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze full of love and adoration.

A small laugh bubbled up from your chest. “You’re such a romantic. I never would have guessed.”

He smirked, leaning closer so his forehead rested against yours. “You bring it out of me.”

You sighed, letting the warmth of his words settle over you. “Thank you, Seonghwa. For all of this. For… us.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as if to anchor you to him. “I should be thanking you. You said yes, after all.”

The two of you stayed like that for a moment longer, the reality of your new future sinking in. The stars above seemed to twinkle brighter, and the ocean stretched endlessly around you—a perfect metaphor for the journey you were about to embark on together.

Finally, he pulled back, his expression turning mischievous. “Now, Mrs. Park-to-be,” he said, his tone light, “how about we celebrate properly? I took some lessons from Mingi on how to make your favorite cocktail.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Mingi gave you lessons? This I have to see.”

Seonghwa intertwined his fingers with yours, tugging you gently toward the staircase leading below deck. “I figured it was only right, considering how much you love that drink. But fair warning, I’m not a professional… yet.”

You laughed, following his lead, a giggle escaping your lips. “I have very high expectations, fiancé.”

The word felt foreign yet perfect as it rolled off your tongue, and the way Seonghwa’s face lit up at hearing it made your heart swell. He glanced back at you, his smile softening into something far more intimate.

“I don’t plan on disappointing you,” he murmured, his tone carrying a quiet promise.

The lower deck was as beautifully arranged as the top, with soft lighting and a cozy seating area near a fully stocked bar. Seonghwa guided you to sit while he moved behind the bar, rolling up his sleeves with exaggerated flair.

“Alright, let’s see if I remember everything Mingi drilled into me,” he said, picking up the shaker.

You leaned back, resting your chin in your hand as you watched him with amusement. “No pressure or anything. But if it’s terrible, I’m never letting you forget it.”

He shot you a mock glare before getting to work, carefully measuring and mixing the ingredients with surprising precision. As he worked, you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly charming he looked, even while concentrating.

Finally, he poured the drink into a chilled glass, sliding it across the bar toward you with a triumphant grin. “One Y/N-approved cocktail, ready to impress.”

You took a cautious sip, the familiar flavors bursting on your tongue. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him. “Seonghwa… this is actually good.”

His grin turned smug, and he leaned against the bar, watching you with a glint in his eye. “Is that so? I’ll take that as a win.”

Setting the glass down, you got up and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “A big win,” you admitted, pulling him closer.

Seonghwa’s arms circled your waist, and his smile softened as he gazed down at you. He was about to say something, his lips parting, when a sudden flash of light startled you both.

“Ah, sorry!” the photographer said sheepishly, lowering his camera. “I’ve been capturing everything quietly, but I thought I’d try the flash for this one.”

You blinked, momentarily surprised, before chuckling softly. “That’s no problem at all! Thank you for your hard work.”

Seonghwa turned slightly, his hand still resting on your waist, giving the photographer a polite nod. “You’ve been doing an excellent job. We’ll probably frame half of these,” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he glanced back at you.

The photographer grinned. “Thank you, Mr. Park. I’ll make sure the shots are perfect.”

“Shall we go to the top deck to take more pictures?” Seonghwa asked the photographer. “I recall you saying you knew a great technique?”

The photographer grinned, nodding enthusiastically. “Absolutely, Mr. Park! The top deck at this hour will give us stunning shots with the night sky as a backdrop.”

Seonghwa turned to you, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “Shall we? I think a few pictures with the stars above and the ocean behind us would be perfect.”

You laughed lightly, slipping your hand into his. “You’re really going all out with this, aren’t you?”

“For you? Always,” he replied without missing a beat, guiding you toward the staircase that led to the top deck.

The cool breeze met you as you stepped onto the open deck, the stars scattered across the sky like diamonds on velvet. The photographer followed closely, already adjusting his camera settings for the low light.

“Why don’t you stand over there?” he suggested, pointing to the edge of the deck where the soft glow of the yacht’s lights faded into the darkness of the sea. “I’ll frame the two of you with the horizon, it’ll look magical.”

Seonghwa placed his arm around your waist, pulling you close as you stood together at the rail. The photographer clicked away, occasionally murmuring directions.

“Turn just slightly… perfect. Now look at each other—yes, like that!”

You glanced up at Seonghwa, his expression so tender it made your chest ache. “You’re really into this, aren’t you?” you teased softly.

He smirked, leaning closer. “Can you blame me? I just proposed to the most beautiful woman in the world. I want every second of this night captured.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you playfully swatted his chest. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re irresistible,” he countered, tilting his head just enough to brush a kiss against your temple.

“Got it!” the photographer called, breaking the moment. “These are going to turn out stunning. Do you want a few more with a different angle?”

Seonghwa glanced at you, his smile asking the question as much as his words. “One more set?”

You nodded, unable to hide your own excitement. “Why not? Let’s make this night unforgettable.”

The three of you moved to a new spot on the deck, the laughter and easy banter between you and Seonghwa filling the air as the camera continued to click, immortalizing the beginning of your forever together.

-x-x-x-

Nari burst into your office, barely able to contain her laughter as she waved her phone in the air. “Ms. Y/N! You have to see this. The media is going wild!”

You raised an eyebrow, setting your pen down. “What now?”

With a grin, she handed over her phone. On the screen was an article with a headline so dramatic it almost made you laugh:

“CEO of Byeol Materials Group, Park Seonghwa, Spotted on a Diamond Hunt! Engagement Rumors Spark Frenzy. But Who is the Lucky Woman?”

You blinked, glancing up at Nari before reading the rest aloud:

“Park Seonghwa, the enigmatic and wildly successful CEO of Byeol Materials Group, has been caught making waves yet again—but this time, it’s not about business.

The CEO was seen visiting multiple exclusive jewelry stores over the past few weeks, meticulously inspecting engagement rings. According to insiders from two of the stores, Seonghwa spent considerable time consulting on custom designs, sparking speculation that he’s planning to pop the question.

Known for his fiercely private nature, CEO Park has everyone guessing: Who could the lucky woman be? Industry insiders and fans alike are buzzing with theories, ranging from high-society heiresses to childhood sweethearts.

‘He was extremely particular about what he wanted,’ one jeweler revealed under anonymity. ‘He didn’t settle for anything less than perfection.’

While CEO Park’s representatives have declined to comment, sources close to the CEO hint that the engagement might be announced soon. With his recent public appearances marked by a certain glow and his habit of dodging personal questions, it seems the notoriously composed CEO might be ready to take the leap into married life.

As speculation mounts, one thing is certain: whoever she is, she’s one very lucky lady. Stay tuned as we uncover more about the mystery that is Park Seonghwa’s love life.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, handing the phone back to Nari. “They’re really reaching, aren’t they?”

Nari crossed her arms, trying to look innocent but failing miserably. “Reaching? Or spot-on?”

You shot her a look. “You’re not even trying to be subtle, are you?”

“Why should I? I was involved in planning the proposal too, after all,” she said with a triumphant smirk.

You groaned, leaning back in your chair. “How is this already news? It hasn’t even been 48 hours!”

“Seonghwa’s too high-profile, and the media are like hawks,” Nari replied, still grinning. “But hey, at least they’re calling you lucky.”

Rolling your eyes, you gave her a playful shove. “Out. And don’t you dare let this blow up any further.”

She laughed as she left the room, her voice echoing down the hallway. “No promises!”

-

The dining room at Seonghwa’s luxurious residence was abuzz with conversation as your family and his gathered around the long, elegantly set table. The warm glow of the chandelier illuminated the room, and the soft hum of classical music played in the background, adding to the sophisticated ambiance.

Your mother was the first to bring up the engagement party. “We’re so thrilled to host it at our mansion,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “The new flowers we planted will be in full bloom soon, and it’s the perfect setting for such a special occasion.”

Seonghwa’s mother smiled warmly. “It’s an excellent choice. Intimate, yet grand enough to accommodate everyone we’d like to invite. I’ve heard your family has hosted some of the most memorable events there.”

“Thank you,” your father chimed in, nodding. “We’ve already contacted the decorators and catering teams. They’re preparing something truly exceptional.”

Seonghwa leaned back slightly, his hand casually resting on the arm of his chair. “It sounds like everything is coming together perfectly. What about the guest list? Have we finalized it?”

Hongjoong, seated next to your father, smirked. “Oh, it’s finalized all right. Between both our families, close friends, and the necessary business connections, we’re looking at a sizable number.”

Your mother chuckled. “Not too large, though. We want it to feel personal.”

Seonghwa’s father nodded approvingly. “Good. It’s important to strike that balance.”

Then, as the plates of dessert were being served, the conversation shifted.

“When do we plan to make the public announcement?” Seonghwa’s mother asked, her gaze moving between you and Seonghwa. “There’s been plenty of speculation in the media already.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Seonghwa, who gave you a reassuring smile before speaking. “I think it would be ideal to announce it right after the engagement party,” he said. “That way, the news will come directly from us, accompanied by official photos. It’ll leave no room for misunderstandings.”

Your father nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a smart approach. We’ll also have more control over the narrative that way.”

“But won’t the media catch wind of the party itself?” your mother asked.

Seonghwa’s mother waved her hand dismissively. “Let them speculate. It’ll only build anticipation. By the time we confirm it, it’ll already be the story everyone’s waiting for.”

“Exactly,” Seonghwa agreed. Then, turning his attention to you, he added, “Of course, we’ll only proceed this way if you’re comfortable with it.”

You smiled at him, appreciating his consideration. “I think it sounds like a solid plan. Let’s do it.”

“Wonderful,” his father said, raising his glass. “To a smooth engagement and a future filled with happiness for the two of you.”

Everyone lifted their glasses, the clinking of crystal marking the moment. As the evening went on, the discussion shifted to lighter topics, but the excitement about the upcoming engagement lingered in the air, uniting both families in a shared sense of joy and anticipation.

---

Two weeks later

The engagement party was nothing short of spectacular. Your family mansion had been transformed into a stunning venue, its grand garden illuminated by thousands of twinkling fairy lights and elegant chandeliers suspended from a custom-built canopy. Guests mingled around, their laughter and conversations blending with the soft music from a live string quartet. The scent of fresh flowers—roses, lilies, and orchids—filled the air, a testament to the meticulous arrangements.

You stood near the entrance, greeting guests alongside Seonghwa. Dressed in a custom ivory gown adorned with subtle embellishments that sparkled under the lights, you felt every bit the part. Seonghwa, by your side in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, looked effortlessly handsome, his presence commanding yet comforting.

“Y/N, you look stunning,” a guest remarked as they passed.

“Thank you,” you replied warmly, your hand instinctively slipping into Seonghwa’s.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong teased, joining you with a drink in hand. “But don’t let it get to your head.”

Seonghwa chuckled, glancing at you. “I think I’ve already won tonight.”

“You’re cheesy,” you said, suppressing a laugh.

“Only for you,” he replied with a wink, earning a playful roll of your eyes.

The evening proceeded seamlessly. The media had been carefully kept at bay, allowing everyone to enjoy the event in peace. Your parents were busy entertaining important guests, while Seonghwa’s parents mingled effortlessly, their charm evident. Friends like San, Yeosang, and Yunho made sure the atmosphere remained lively, occasionally cracking jokes and teasing Seonghwa about “finally sealing the deal.”

As you were chatting with a few guests, you noticed Mingi quickly making his way toward you and Seonghwa, his steps hurried, and Wooyoung trailing behind him, laughing so loudly it turned heads.

“Is it true?” Mingi exclaimed as he reached you, a look of mock astonishment plastered on his face. “Is it actually true? You really did it?”

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow but couldn’t hide his smile. “I placed the order for it that day at the store while buying Y/N’s ring. It arrived today.”

Mingi gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Oh my! The wealthy are insane!”

You blinked, thoroughly confused by the exchange. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re wealthy too, Mingi,” Yeosang quipped, joining the group.

“Not as much as lover boy here, clearly!” Mingi shot back, causing Wooyoung to laugh even harder.

“Seriously, what’s going on?” you asked, looking between the men.

Seonghwa chuckled softly, placing a hand on your lower back and gently steering you toward a nearby table. On it sat a sleek, golden-colored vase filled with intricate crystal flowers, their facets sparkling brilliantly under the soft lighting.

You tilted your head, confused by the reaction the simple centerpiece seemed to provoke. “It’s just a vase with crystal flowers. Why is everyone acting so weird?”

“Oh my god!” Mingi exclaimed, dramatically pointing at the vase. “You actually did it!”

“Did what?” you asked, glancing at Seonghwa, who looked more amused by the second.

Hongjoong approached with a sly grin. “I think I need to explain this to my dear sister,” he said, picking up the vase with exaggerated reverence. “These aren’t just crystals, Y/N. These flowers are made of diamonds. And the vase? That’s solid gold.”

Your jaw dropped as the realization hit. “No way,” you breathed, horrified yet slightly in awe.

“Yup, solid gold vase, diamond flowers. You’re engaged to a madman,” Hongjoong teased, handing the vase back to Seonghwa with a smirk.

“Hold on,” you said, still trying to process. “Why would you even…?”

“Y/N being surprised is so funny to me because this probably costs like 0.03% of her net worth,” Yeosang said to Mingi, causing him to gasp in horror while doing the math in his head.

Before Seonghwa could answer you, Wooyoung burst in, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “Because of me!” he announced proudly. “We were at Mingi’s bar when Seonghwa was freaking out about what flowers to get you. I joked that he should just give you flower-shaped diamonds since he’s so loaded. And this lunatic actually went and did it!”

“Seriously?” you asked, staring at Seonghwa, who looked entirely unapologetic.

He shrugged, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Why settle for regular flowers when I can give you ones that last forever?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands while the others burst into laughter. “You’re impossible.”

As the evening wore on, the party reached its highlight.

A soft chime rang out, signaling that it was time for the formal announcement. Seonghwa gently took your hand and led you to the center of the garden, where a small stage had been set up. The crowd naturally gravitated toward you, forming a semicircle around the stage.

Seonghwa stepped forward, his hand still holding yours, and addressed the crowd. “Good evening, everyone. Thank you for joining us on this very special night. Today marks the beginning of a new chapter, not just for me, but for us.” He glanced at you, his gaze tender and full of love.

You felt a wave of warmth, his words wrapping around you like a protective embrace.

“This isn’t just a union of two people,” he continued, “but a blending of families, dreams, and futures. I’m honored and deeply grateful to have Y/N by my side. She’s more than I could ever ask for.”

The guests erupted into applause, some cheering loudly.

He turned to you, his voice soft enough that only you could hear. “Would you like to say anything?”

You smiled, stepping closer to the microphone. “Thank you all for being here tonight. This means so much to us. And I want to thank Seonghwa—” you turned to him, your smile growing—“for his patience, his kindness, and for always being someone I can count on. I’m looking forward to spending forever with you.”

The applause grew louder, and you felt Seonghwa’s hand squeeze yours gently.

Champagne glasses were passed around as the announcement concluded, and the guests toasted to your happiness. As you clinked glasses with Seonghwa, he leaned in and whispered, “We have more celebrations tonight.”

You blushed, knowing exactly what he meant. The party continued with dancing, laughter, and endless congratulations, but for you and Seonghwa, the night had already become unforgettable.

-

The time had come. The highly anticipated announcement of your engagement was finally being made. But instead of the usual press conference where personal details were shared, both you and Seonghwa had decided to make the announcement with a joint statement from your companies. It was a more formal, yet still deeply personal, way to publicly confirm your relationship and future plans.

The statement was prepared, the details carefully chosen. Your family’s PR team had worked closely with Seonghwa’s to craft the perfect message, one that emphasized both the personal and professional aspects of your union, highlighting not only your relationship but the strength of the bond between your families and their businesses.

The joint statement was released via your respective companies' official websites and social media accounts, accompanied by a few carefully selected photos of the two of you together. It quickly spread across the business world and social media platforms.

Joint Statement from Byeol Materials Group and Aurum Medical Technologies

It is with great pleasure that we announce the engagement of Park Seonghwa, CEO of Byeol Materials Group, and Kim Y/N, CEO of Aurum Medical Technologies. The decision to formalize their relationship has been made with the full support of both families, who have worked closely together for many years.

In addition to the personal significance of this engagement, this union also symbolizes the continued partnership between Byeol Materials Group and Aurum Medical Technologies as well as the Celestia Group, solidifying a longstanding collaboration that has benefited both our companies and the broader industry.

While this is a deeply personal milestone for CEO Park Seonghwa and CEO Kim Y/N, both parties are committed to continuing their professional work in their respective roles and furthering the legacies of both businesses. We are excited about the future and look forward to what lies ahead as they embark on this new chapter together.

We would like to express our gratitude for the continued support from all our partners, clients, and stakeholders, and we look forward to sharing more with you in the near future.

The message was clear: the engagement was not just a personal matter but also a business decision, an alliance between two powerful families that would benefit both professionally and personally. The timing was strategic, and the tone of the statement was one of unity, strength, and mutual respect.

The reactions came in waves. The business world buzzed with excitement and curiosity, and the media quickly picked up the announcement. People from all corners of the industry began speculating about the potential ramifications of the union, from its impact on the companies to what it meant for future ventures.

But you and Seonghwa knew that this was just the beginning of the next chapter, both professionally and personally.

After the statement was released, the phones began ringing off the hook. Wooyoung had already fielded countless calls from business partners and investors, all eager to congratulate him and express their support. Your own team was handling a similar influx of calls, from acquaintances to business associates who had all read the news with varying degrees of excitement and curiosity.

Seonghwa glanced at you, his eyes meeting yours with an almost playful intensity. “Well, that went smoothly.”

You grinned, feeling the weight of the moment. “You could say that again.”

“I mean, the hard part’s over now, right?” He chuckled, looking at you with a raised brow.

You raised an eyebrow in return, smirking. “You think so? I think this is just the beginning.”

His smile deepened, and he stepped closer to you, his voice low and teasing. “We’ll see about that.”

The atmosphere between you and Seonghwa shifted, a comfortable silence hanging between you both as you exchanged glances. The buzz of congratulatory messages and business calls surrounding you seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you in the moment.

Seonghwa reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering at your skin. His gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight of the business world, the PR statements, and the expectations all melted away. It was just you two.

"Are you happy?" he asked, his voice a little more serious now, a quiet vulnerability in his tone that you rarely heard.

You tilted your head slightly, considering the question. Your initial response was to make light of it, to tease him, but something about the sincerity in his eyes stopped you. Instead, you answered honestly.

"Yeah," you replied with a small smile. "I am. I'm nervous, though. There’s a lot of pressure, you know?"

Seonghwa nodded in understanding. "I get it. But we’ll take it one step at a time. We’re in it together."

You smiled softly at his words. The comfort in his voice, the way he made sure to acknowledge your feelings even in this whirlwind of changes—it made the idea of marrying him, of officially committing to this, a little less daunting.

"Together," you repeated, the weight of the word settling into your chest. "I think we can handle it."

He took a step closer, his hand resting gently on your waist as he leaned in slightly. "We already are," he said quietly, brushing his lips against your temple before pulling back just enough to look at you. "We’ll face whatever comes together. And besides..." He paused, his playful smirk returning. "Planning for the wedding is going to be a breeze compared to what we’ve already been through."

You chuckled, feeling the tension in your shoulders start to ease. "I have a feeling the real fun’s just about to start."

Seonghwa grinned at that, his eyes alight with mischief. "Oh, I’m sure of it."

End of Part Four.

[sissylittlefeather]

Moonlight swim 💕

12 Days of Ficmas

Day 7: Moonlight Swim

A/N: I know I am WAY late on this, but I might just keep writing these until I finish them, even though Christmas is definitely over. Oh well. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, p in v sex, stranger sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word count: ~2k

And bonus:

You love living in Hawaii. You don't usually love all the people who come from everywhere to make your home their escape. But, tourism is the industry and you end up working in a hotel dealing with tourists all day every day. Most of them drive you crazy, especially the middle-aged men from fly-over states who hit on you shamelessly in front of their wives.

You're locked into just such an interaction with a man from nowhere Nebraska one day when you're rescued by a knight in Hawaiian-print cotton.

“Oh, now, come on sweetheart, how are we s’posed to find a good restaurant if you won't come have a drink with us?” The balding man waggles his eyebrows, obviously hoping for more than just a drink. His wife seems curiously on-board with you joining them as she nods excitedly behind him.

“Thank you, sir, but I really shouldn't. Here is a list of restaurants around the hotel.” You hand him a flyer and try to brush him off since you've never been interested in a threesome, much less with an aging couple who came to Hawaii to let loose after their kids flew the nest.

“Sweetheart, we don't want the tourist treatment. We want to know the real good places–” As he puts his hand on top of yours, you hear another voice.

“Hiya honey! You ‘bout ready to go?” You look up at the new voice in shock. Not only is he a complete stranger talking to you like he's known you his whole life, he might be the most beautiful man you've ever seen. Then it hits you: he's Elvis fucking Presley.

“Umm… I… what?” You stumble over your words and pull your hand away from the first man.

“We're still on for this evening, right? I hope you didn't forget. I made a reservation and everything.” He knits his eyebrows together in false concern and you realize what he's doing.

“Yes! Of course!” You turn back to the bewildered couple. “You'll have to excuse me. My shift just ended and I have a date. Please enjoy any of the restaurants on the list.”

Elvis smiles and waits patiently as you grab your purse from under the desk and walk around to the front side. Luckily, it's 5pm and your shift really did just end. When you get to him, he throws his arm around your waist and kisses your temple, guiding you out of the hotel and away from the gawking couple. He walks you all the way to a car in the parking lot.

“Thank you. I wasn't sure how I was going to get away from those two.” He smiles genially.

“You're welcome, honey. I'm Elvis.”

“Yeah.” You tell him your name and he shakes your hand like he's nobody at all. After a beat of awkwardness, you turn to walk to your own car but he calls after you.

“Hey, listen. I know that was a rescue operation, but I really would like to have dinner with you, if ya want?” Your mouth pops open before you can stop it.

“Wait, really? You wanna have dinner with me?”

“Yeah! I just got here and I don't really know anyone. If you want to?” You try to hide the fact that you're completely caught off guard by the most famous man on the planet asking you to dinner.

“Sure. I mean, yes! I'd love to have dinner with you.” He smiles and you almost faint.

“Okay then. You pick the place.” He opens the car door for you and you slide into the seat as he runs around and gets into the driver’s side. You take him to one of your favorite restaurants, a little hole-in-the-wall place that no one would ever expect, and he loves it. He's surprisingly easy to talk to and before you know it, it's dark. You talk even more and the restaurant owners start to eye you because they need to close.

“This has been really great, but we should get out of here.” You giggle shyly. He nods and you head back to his car. Once you get to the hotel, though, he takes your hand and kisses the back of it.

“I'm not quite ready for bed. You know of somewhere we can go to keep talking?” He looks at you with his eyes so innocent and pleading that you couldn't say no if you wanted to. You wrack your brain for somewhere you could take him that might be private.

“I have an idea.” He smiles and kisses your fingers again. Then, you guide him to the place. When you get there, his eyes sparkle with mischief.

“A beach?” He asks as you get out of the car.

“Why not? Nobody knows about this place. We'll have it to ourselves.” You've come here since you were a kid, so you know it's pretty secluded. You get down to the water and sure enough, it's completely deserted.

“It's pretty.” He comments, coming up behind you and sliding his arms around your waist. You look out at the almost-full moon on the water, the soft sound of waves filling the night air.

“This is my favorite spot on the island.” You whisper, enjoying the feeling of having him wrapped around you.

“I can see why.” The only sound is the water as you stand there for a bit in silence. “Let's go for a swim.”

“I don't have a swimsuit?” He pulls away from you and you notice he has started taking his clothes off.

“Do ya need one?” You look at him standing there with just his linen pants on and shrug.

“No, I suppose I don't.” He smiles as you start to strip too. When you get down to your bra and panties, you realize he still has on his pants. “Hey, now, if I'm in my underwear it's only fair that you are too.”

“I'm not wearin’ any.” He grins. “If I take these pants off you gotta be naked with me.”

Without another thought, you unclasp your bra and drop your panties, taking off for the water before he can get a good look. He laughs and follows you, his pants left behind on the beach. In the water, he finds your waist with his hands and pulls you in close to him.

“I haven't had this much fun in a long time.” He teases your nose with his own.

“I find that very hard to believe.”

“No, really. My life is one big set up. This is the most freedom I've experienced in years. Makes a guy wish he could run away.” You look into his eyes and see the vulnerability of truth there. Then, you lean forward and press your lips against his softly. He moans quietly and then kisses you again, his tongue sliding along your bottom lip, begging for access. Opening your mouth, you deepen the kiss and press your body against him. His hands start to roam over your skin, first pulling your hips in tight and then skimming up to your breasts to squeeze them gently. You feel your body respond as he rolls your nipples in his fingers. He kisses down your neck, pulling on your thighs to wrap your legs around his waist. The sensation of his lips pressing against your neck elicits a soft whimper from you and the heat between you builds. You feel his hard cock where it presses against your center and moan into his mouth. He starts to carry you towards the beach, the waves lapping at his legs.

“Need to be inside you, doll.” He whispers as he carries you and you nod frantically. When he gets back up to the sand, he moves to his knees, rearranging you so that you're on your knees on top of him. The tip of his dick is pressed against your clit, weeping precum onto you, adding to your own natural wetness. He holds your ass with one hand and uses the other to rub himself in your wet folds. “You want it, baby?”

“So bad… please…”

“Such a good girl, begging for this cock.” His voice is low and sultry in your ear as he teases you. “Tell me what you want, princess.”

“You…”

“More specific.” His breath is hot on your neck and ear and you need him so badly you could scream, your empty pussy clenching around nothing.

“I want your cock inside me.” You feel him smile against your neck as he pushes the tip into you.

“Good girl. I'm gonna give you what you want.” He moves both hands to your ass cheeks and pushes you down, filling you up slowly. You feel yourself stretching around him and your head falls back. “No baby, look at me.”

He lifts your head to look into your eyes as he bottoms out inside you, groaning.

“I want to see your pretty face when you cum for me.” You moan softly and then he begins to pick you up and drop you on his dick. “Like that, princess. Let me fuck you until you can't stand it. I want you to scream my name so loud the moon can hear you.”

You clutch his shoulders, your nails digging into his soft flesh as he continues lifting and dropping you onto his cock. He's the perfect length and shape to brush your g-spot with every thrust and you feel your climax getting closer and closer. Your pussy begins to tighten around him and he groans loudly.

“Gonna… cum… soon…” You whine and he grabs the back of your hair and presses his forehead to yours.

“Good girl. Cum on this dick, princess.” The sweat cuts salty paths on both of your flesh as you feel the edges of your orgasm closing in. His own release is gathered in his balls as he tries desperately to hold on for you to finish first.

“Oh God, Elvis! YES!” You scream into the darkness as you cum deep and hard on him, your pussy squeezing and pulsing around him. He buries his face in your neck and groans loudly. You feel his stomach tense and then he leans his head back and moans out loud. His face is so beautiful in the throes of pleasure, lips parted slightly and eyes closed.

“Fuck yeah, baby!” He whispers, biting his bottom lip as his cock twitches and throbs and spills inside of you. You tremble as he holds your body close and presses soft kisses to every inch of skin he can reach. Eventually, you both come down from your combined high and he lays back on the sand with you on top of him. His hand tangles in the back of your hair as he massages your scalp with one hand and drags his fingertips up and down your arm with the other. You can tell he needs the contact, so you let him touch you however he wants. His chest rumbles under your ear as he starts to hum.

“What's that song?” You ask, your voice light and airy after feeling so satisfied.

“One from the new movie. I don't know the words but the melody is catchy. Might be a hit.” You lay there on the beach together as he hums and strokes you gently.

The next day, the rest of his posse arrives and he spends his time being told what to do and when to do it. He promises to see you again, but he never finds the time. In reality, his manager doesn't like the idea of him with you– you are too much freedom– so he makes sure to keep Elvis away. You catch glimpses of him in passing in the hotel and his eyes always linger just a little too long, like he's trying to apologize. But you know it's not his fault. You don't hold it against him.

And when the movie comes out and you hear Can't Help Falling in Love, your heart skips a little with the memory of laying on the beach, waves crashing softly in the background, as he hummed it to you in the afterglow of the best night of your life.

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69 @pxpresley @kxnnxy

[faghubby]

So Big

I stood there in awe watching my wife, Jen get railed by a monster of a cock. She moaned and cried muffled into a pillow, as he drove his 12 inch, two inch thick black cock into her pussy. This man just looked over at me and smiled. He plunged deep and pumped his load inside her. As he pulled out Jen just collapsed on the bed. Without a word this man put back on his pants and left.

Jen passed out. I don't even think she knew I was there. I went to her. Cum leaked out of her in great globs. He pussy was red and swollen. I was so turned on. I stuck my fingers in her she didn't make a sound. Even as I pushed four fingers in. Cum flowed down my hand now covered in this man's cum. I thought for a moment then bought it to my tounge. Tasting this man's cum. I took more sucking my finger clean. Jen moved and I quickly left and washed my hands.

I went for a drive giving Jen time to recover. I didn't know what to do. It was like a dream come true. But would she leave me? Or freak out if she knew I was aware that she had cheated on me. It couldn't be the first time. I mean his cock was enormous. I found myself at a unpopular trail head. I got out and walked into the woods bit. Dropped my pants and jerked off. Feeling brave I stripped completely and rubbed my nipples as I jerked off. I caught my sperm in my hand and ate it. It was different then the black man's. Water down prehaps. Not as strong. Suddenly feeling exposed I got dressed and went back to my car. On the way home I stopped and bought Jen flowers.

Jen was up. Dressed in sweats. She was curled up on the couch.

"Hey baby" I kissed her giving her the flowers.

"So sweet" she told me. As she got up I noticed she was moving slowly.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Craps" she half smiled.

"Well then let's just order in" I told her. She kissed me agsin. I wondered if his cum was still leaking out of her. We sat on the couch and cuddled as we shared Chinese food.

"I am so lucky to have you" she told me. She then said she was going to take a bath. I cleaned up. And was watching the weather when Jen texted me to come upstairs. I half ran up the stairs to find Jen in her robe sitting on the bed. A video of her getting fucked playing on the TV. I dead stopped.

"What's this?" I tried to sound mad. It reached the part where he left. Then I enter the frame.

She turned and stared at me as the scene of me fingering her played out. She stopped it I stuck my finger in my mouth.

"Paul, out with it. I don't want half truths or lies. Tell me all of it" Jen told me.

"I, well I. Um." I stood there babbling

"He came in the shop last week. His name is David. He has a way. I fucked him. No that's not right HE fucked me right in the changing room. After I had know him for 5 minutes. He nearly split me in two. He has fucked me almost every day since." Jen told me.

"I like to wear your panties and play with myself. Thinking of you getting gangbanged." I spit out.

"Put on your favorite pair" Jen told me. I rushed to her drawer and in the back pulled out a pair of pink lace front briefs. I quickly stripped and put them on. My dick throbbing. I was suddenly ashamed of my 5 inches. Thinking about her lover.

Jen got up and pulled out the matching bra to the panties and put it on me. It was silly I didn't have breast as she adjusted the straps. She pushed me on to the bed. Without a word she pulled out her pink vibrator and lube.

"Jen I never" I started.

"Everyone has a first time" she told me as she pulled had me kneel like she had for her lover. And worked a lubed finger in my ass.

"I don't need your pee pee anymore. I wouldn't feel it anyway." Jen told me as she worked her toy into my ass. It felt amazing. I reached up and starts to jerk off.

"Stop that" Jen told me forcing the toy in deeper. I cried as she fucked me with the toy. "You don't get to jerk off like a man anymore" she told me. "We can get you one of those dick cages" she told me as she rammed the toy in and out of my ass. I could barely walk after she was done. I slept in her bra and panties.

When I came home from work I was greeted at the door. She pushed me to the floor and sat on my face. Cum flowed into my mouth. She wasn't satisfied until I had cleaned it all out of her.

"My little cum sucker" she called me as she let me up. "Why don't you go put on some panties" she told me with a wink smacking my ass lightly as she walked away. I went upstairs and brushed my teeth. I must of swallowed a gallon of cum. I found a red satin pair of panties and slid them on my dick rock hard poking out. Then went to put on my sweats but saw Jen's leggings on the floor. I picked them up. We were about the same size I was a little taller. I tried them on. They rode up my calves a little but fit, I tossed on a big oversized tee and went downstairs. I wondered how long it would take her to notice. She didn't say a word just smacked my ass harder as she walked by. We ate dinner I went to watch TV and Jen snuggled uo next to me. Her hand slid under my shirt and teased my nipples. He hands slid down over my bulge quickly and rubbed my inner thighs.

"You are so excited, do you want my toy in your ass again" she teased. I shook my head no. "I think you will learn to crave it" she laughed. She teased me for over an hour before she just stopped. I wanted her so bad. But she just would let me cuddle.

In the morning Jen handed me a pair of panties

"Where these to work" she told me rubbing my growing bulge. They where little yellow bikini type panties. I barely was able to contain myself in them I was so excited. I couldn't take it and on my way to work I stopped along the side of the road and jerked off. I licked all my cum off my hand.

It helped a little but wearing panties all day. Made me excited. I wondered if anyone could tell. I snuck off to a vacant office and stripped naked. I jerked off hopeing I would get caught. I sent Jen a pic. She didn't respond.

When I arrived home Jen was waiting.

"Strip you naughty little bitch" she commanded. I stripped completely right in the front hall. She led me straight to the dining room.

"Sit" she told me pulling out a chair a dildo was attached to it. It glistening with lube. I wanted to complain but one look and I lowered myself onto the toy. Jen was patient as I took some time to work it in.

"You like that don't you" Jen smiled then placed another dildo on the table. "Suck it cunt" she told me. "If it helps it was inside me only a few minutes ago." I lowered my head and took the head in my mouth. Jen started to give me directions on how to suck cock. she had me start fucking myself on the toy as I sucked the other toy. Jen slid under the table i thought she was going to sudk my dick instead she jerked me off. I came quick. She fiddled with something I heard a click and she came out from under the table. She pulled my head off the toy. She slathered my cum all over the toy and then had me clean it.

"We are going to shave you from your eyebrows to your toes" Jen told me having me stand she led me upstairs. She rubbed hair removal gel all over my body. My body tingled even burned before she shoved me in the shower. The hair came off in clumps. I looked down at the tiny cage she had locked me in. Jen got in the shower still wearing her clothes and shaved any little hairs we missed.

Then had me stand there as she rubbed lotion over every inch of my body.

"You are going to put that on next" Jen told me pointing to the back of the door. There was a pink dress. First Jen handed me a pair of pink thong they read SISSY across the front. A bra followed. Along with white stay up stockings. She then had me pull the dress on it was tight fit like a second skin. I pulled it down put it constantly rode up exposing half my ass. In the bedroom she produced a pair of high heel pink boots. She wasn't done. Sitting me down she applied makeup and lipstick. I looked like a cheap slut. Jen even added a bow to my hair. A spritz of her perfume. Then to ,y surprise she produced a needle and pierced my ears. Putting in little pink gems.

Jen was watching me learn to walk in the boots when the door opened in walked David. Pushing past me he grabbed Jen . He bent her over the kitchen counter and tore her pants off. He was balls deep before I even was able to stable my self in the boots. I watched as Jen let him use her. He grabbed Jen and went to push he to the floor.

"Please let Paula have it." She begged. David crossed the room with such speed. He pushed me to my knees and shoved his cock in my mouth.

"Take it sweety just like I showed you" but he was so much bigger. I could only suck the head. It didn't matter he was on the verge anyway. And I was drowned in his cum. Most of it hitting me in the face. I couldn't even wipe my face before I was pulled to my feet and bent over the counter just like Jen had been. Dress pulled uo and panties pulled to the side as he tried to push his cock in. Jen tried to help by adding more lube. The head popped in and pain shot thru me he was tearing me apart. As he worked that monster in my ass.

"God she's tight" David moaned as he shoved more inside me. Jen got on the other side of the counter and held ,y hands as he fucked me. With such force he would make me stand on my tiptoes.

"This is what you wanted, you have always wanted. You are a faggot now. No reason to be afraid. You always wanted this where just to afraid to admit it even to yourself" Jen told me as David continued to abuse my ass.

"Yes I am" I wimpered through my tears.

[snakeunderyourboot]

we should talk about malevolent but soulmates au, especially in the context of Jarthur

Imagine the situation when your soulmate is not only some eldritch being BUT ALSO someone you have to share a body with. Also, it could be both romantic and platonic

like....there are many different versions of how soulmates work. There could be soulmate marks, or being colorblind and only seeing color when you met your soulmate, the timer that runs out when you see your soulmate, the first phrase they are going to say to you, some tatoo, or even just a name etc etc. All of those are potentially interesting, ESSPECIALLY if we apply them to jarthur

Soulmate marks, where Arthur left pinkie has a darker color. Or his eyes are. Or all parts that John would later come to possess have darker color. OR Arthur has weird scars that no human has ever seen before and could not be explained by any human logic. It is almost like they are divine in nature.

Seeing color when you first meet your soulmate, where Arthur has never in his life seen color. He has no idea what John means when he says that something is yellow, because what the fuck yellow even means. Sure, he knows that the sun is yellow or dandelions are yellow, but he doesn't understand. He would probably think that John is able to see colors because he is outwordly being so he doesn't apply by the same rules mortals do. And if it is true, what if John being able to see color is his proof that he is human, that he is no longer God. Or if it is NOT true and gods do have soulmates, what if Kayne or King in Yellow mention something about it?

Would Yellow see color? Would he see it with Larson? Would he see it later in Dreamlands, whenever he is?

The timer that runs out when you meet your soulmate, what if Arthur's timer is all fucked up, with strange symbols, that are always changing? And what if the second he picked up the book his timer abruptly stopped on zero? What if John later asks what the strange line of zeroes means and Arthur wouldn't know what to even say to that. What if in Addison his timer is back again to being all fucked up and Larson notices it and recognizes some of the symbols? What if after he has Yellow, his timer is also all fucked up?

The first phrase your soulmate is going to say to you, where Arthur doesn't have "Don't you remember?" INSTEAD he has "Arthur? Arthur!" because that is the first thing JOHN tells him after a coma? I just think it would be neat if the prase is from John when he is John, and not the Entity. You know what, we can even play it out to episode 43, where Arthur has tattooed the first words John says to him when he is resurrected. ORRR what if it's the first words John says after he has his own body?

In the same way, John doesn't have the soulmate mark until they are in the hospital or in the witch's lair? Or what if it is different, what if the words tattoed on your skin are the words your soulmate says when they realize they love you. Would then Arthur's words be "I suppose so" (when he talks to the King in Yellow in s2 finale) while John has "Because I care about him?"(from s4 finale)?? What if he only understands what the words mean when they are confronting the Witch?

This is actually my favorite variant because THERE IS SO MUCH that could be said.

A tattoo where again Arthur's tattoo is all fucked up, some weird sign that he knows nothing about. He starts looking, finds some mentions of eldritch gods, and decides that NOPE he is out of here. And then he meets John?

Or even just a regular name, where life is so much more complicated for Arthur. I would say homosexuality would be acceptable much earlier in human history if soulmates were a thing, but I would say he still would have a hard time with it. John is one of the most common names, but the problem is also that the name "John Doe" is literally given to people who are not identified. Can you imagine how long Arthur needs to search for his soulmate? And then in the hospital when John asks to be called by John and Arthur is just head in hands??

And you could say even MORE I just listed the most popular and the ones that come first to my mind. We should talk about malevolent soulmates au because this is an entirely new level that is so interesting to talk about

EDIT: also I did not mention Arthur relationship with love BUT we could play it out too. Arthur could be completely ignorant of the soulmarks. Or he could think that soulmarks mean only romantic love. Or both of these or neither or something completely different!

[wannab-urs]

Blossom and Bloom

Summary: Marcus Pike visits your flower shop Warnings: meet cute, flower shop!AU, shy!marcus Rating: G A/N: I kind of struggled with this one, but I like where we ended up, I think. Thanks to my wife @murder-wife for the idea <3

Marcus Pike Masterlist | Masterlist | Prompt Fills | AO3 | Kofi

It’s been a long day at your flower shop, Blossom and Bloom, getting bouquets ready for multiple weddings when a man comes in. He’s… very cute.

You blush and look down at the arrangement you’re making avoiding eye contact as you say,“Welcome in! Let me know if I can help you find anything.” 

He comes up to the counter and you meet his doleful brown eyes – god he’s cute. 

“I need a bouquet for my mom,” he blushes like he’s embarrassed. His voice is deep, rich, attractive.

“I can help you with that!” You say cheerfully. “Do you know her favorite flower?”

“She uh, really like peonies,” he runs a hand through his hair, nervously. You notice he’s not wearing a ring. 

“Great! I actually have a pink peony bouquet all made up already.” You go to grab the bouquet and show it to him. 

“I’ll take it.”

You ring him up and take the cash from his hand, fingers brushing. A pleasurable shiver runs down your spine at the contact. 

“What’s your name? For the card.” 

“Marcus,” he says.

You carefully fill out the card – to: mom from: Marcus. “Is there any special note you want to include?” 

“Can you write ‘Happy Birthday’ on them?” 

“Of course!” 

He leaves with the bouquet and you watch him go, a little sad you don’t have a way to contact him again. You’re about to close up shop when the door opens again. Marcus stands just inside the doorway. 

“Is there something wrong with the flowers?” 

“No! No, nothing like that… I was wondering if, um, if I could get your number?” He looks at you hopefully. 

“Yeah!” You shout, a little too excited. “I mean, yes, I’d love to give you my number.” 

You grab one of the cards you use for floral arrangements and carefully print your phone number, you walk over and hand it to him, unable to contain the grin or the heat rising to your cheeks. 

“Call me soon, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he smiles.  

@fanfictionoverload

[dragqueenstarscream]

G1 Starscream with 4, 5, 8, 11, 16, and 19 pls(a lot srry)? This version specifically is my bastard love and he deserves it

yeahhhhh, g1!! he's such a specific flavor of bastard that i really love. have some headcanons!

4 - i feel like he's a switch, but prefers to bottom. every once in a while, if he's feeling generous, he'll be on top and take care of his cute little human partner, but usually, he prefers to be on the bottom. he's the great lord starscream, and he deserves to be pampered by his favorite human.

5 - yes, and he loves to surprise you with it. one of his favorite things to do is sneak in a french kiss when you're not expecting it, just to see your reaction.

8 - that probably goes to one of the times where the two of you decided to experiment. g1 starscream is kinky as hell, and he loves to try new things. this time around, it was edging.

now, starscream is used to getting what he wants, so when he got so close to overloading only to have it denied, he started to pout and fuss. he didn't use the safeword, so he still wanted to keep going, but his poutiness was so cute that you had to take advantage. you started teasing him, calling him cute nicknames as you brought him closer to overload again, watching the look on his face go from excitement to frustration as he was denied once again.

by this point, he was demanding that you let him overload, so you decided that he earned it. this time around, though, you were relentless, riding his spike and teasing his valve at the same time. he wanted to overload, and you were gonna give it to him.

he ended up living up to his name, screaming as he overloaded inside you and squirted all over the berth. he was furious with you for tormenting him, torturing him, denying him what he deserved. you made it up to him with extra energon and a wing massage. he would later admit to you, though, that, as awful and mean as you were, he really enjoyed it.

he won't admit it, but he's eager to do that again.

11 - when he's accepting aftercare, he views it as a necessity. he deserves to be taken care of after interfacing, after all. he'll accept nothing but the best from his partner.

but that also means he'll do his best for you. he's a little clumsy with it because humans are so much smaller, but he still tries his best, and from someone like him, that's a high honor.

16 - as with every seeker, his wings are highly sensitive, but i also think that his servos would be sensitive, as well. he has something of a hand fixation, so teasing you with his servos or watching you try to suck on his digits really gets him going.

19 - starscream is willing to try most things once, and that includes bondage. he likes when you tie him up, but he much prefers tying you up in beautiful ways and having his way with you. you look like a work of art, all done up in twists of rope, and he'll enjoy you at his own pace.

[thievinghippo]

46 for Emmrich/Edda! Or Sonnet if you prefer :)

A kiss out of envy or jealousy for Emmrich and Edda! This is set during the 'Blood of Arlathan' quest

#

“Do you think the Antaam gossip about you as much as the Venatori apparently do?”

“Ugh, Neve, don’t remind me,” Rook says, finishing up the buckles on her gambeson. She is so grateful to be out of that itchy Venatori armor it’s not even funny. Hopefully they’ll all move faster through the camp now that they’re in their regular gear. They have to find the Dalish. And quick. “As if they could ever turn me.”

“Fair point,” Neve says as she adjusts her fascinator. “Emmrich might have called that one a fan, but to me, it sounded more like a bit of a crush.”

Rook lets out a laugh. She can’t help it. “I am not the type of person people crush on.” She looks over at Emmrich and smiles. The dopey one that only he ever gets to see. “With one really big exception standing right over there.” A horrible thought crosses her mind. “Wait. Emmrich, do you still have a crush on me? Or are we past that stage already?”

“I most assuredly do, my darling.”

“Phew. Good. I still have a crush on you, too.”

“That is very gratifying to hear.”

Neve shakes her head. “You two are ridiculous. Stop me if I ever sound like that about Lucanis.”

Rook fake coughs. “Seafood and candlelight.”

“Fair. I’ll give you that one.”

Once Rook straps her shield to her back, she looks at Emmrich and Neve. “Ready to head out?” She’s not sure where exactly they need to go, but they need to get away from the main Venatori forces. Ideally soon.

“If you would excuse us for just a moment, Neve,” Emmrich says, sounding far too serious for a man who has a crush on her. “Rook, a word?”

He’s already marching off to a small alcove and all Rook can do is look at Neve and shrug. “I think I’m in trouble,” she whispers, wondering what could Emmrich possibly want to talk to her about. When they’re in the middle of a Venatori camp. “I’ll make this quick.”

 Rook follows Emmrich into the alcove. Who is already down on one knee. Which usually only means one thing for them. She takes a step closer and isn’t surprised in the slightest when he grabs her hand and pulls her into his arms.

He kisses her then, first hard and demanding, before making way for soft and slow. When they break apart, Rook palms his cheek. “What in the world was that for?”

“I just… That Venatori. I don’t like the way he said your name, Rook.”

Rook hooks her hands behind Emmrich’s neck and leans back, just a bit. This is most certainly a surprising development. She didn’t think the man had a jealous bone in his body. But maybe this isn’t jealousy, per say. Maybe it’s something else. And when they aren’t in the middle of a rescue mission, Rook will take the time to think about that.

“Would it help if I told you that the way you say my name is my favorite?”

Emmrich nods, and Rook can’t help but lean in for another quick kiss.

“And you smell absolutely lovely. No Venatori deserves that knowledge,” he says, running his fingers through her ponytail.

“I smell like dirty laundry and blood,” Rook says with a laugh. “But I did use that lavender talcum powder you gave me this morning. So maybe I don’t smell all that bad.”

Rook bites her lip as Emmrich leans in, kissing her neck, before taking an exaggerated sniff. “Don’t think I didn’t notice, darling. Like I said. Lovely.”

If only they could stay in this little alcove for the rest of the afternoon. But they can’t waste any more time as they look for the Dalish. Maybe once the Dalish are safe and this area is cleared from Venatori forces…

“One more kiss,” Rook says, before doing just that. They really need to find more time during the day for kissing. Would be good for morale. Her morale, specifically, and probably his, too.

Emmrich stands but doesn’t let go of her hand. All Rook can do is blush as he brings her fingers to his lips. He is absolutely getting laid tonight, assuming they both survive.

Rook jogs a few steps, then stops, looking over her shoulder. Emmrich is right there behind her.

She grins. “Now lets go save the day."

[oddyseye]

What is Xenia?

Xenia is not just good manners. Xenia a test of character, and it's also a reflection of how the Greeks understood the relationship between humans and gods. Xenia was about more than offering food and shelter to travelers. It was a demonstration of how the gods governed human interactions and a reminder of the importance of hospitality as a virtue. The host was expected to offer protection, provisions, and shelter, often without asking the guest for any information or demanding any immediate return. The guest, in turn, was expected to be respectful, not to take advantage of the host's kindness, and to eventually offer something in return, though this could be more symbolic or reciprocal rather than transactional.

One of the key aspects of xenia was the idea that hosts could never know whether their guest might be a god in disguise. The gods were thought to frequently take on human forms to test mortals' hospitality. This divine oversight made it all the more important to treat every guest with respect, as any breach could bring dire consequences. This belief extended to travelers, strangers, and even those whose identities were unknown — showing hospitality was considered a moral obligation, an offering to the gods as much as to the human guest. While gifts were often involved, the true essence of xenia lay in the trust between the parties: the guest trusted the host to provide, and the host trusted the guest not to abuse their hospitality.

Violating xenia was one of the gravest offenses a person could commit. The punishment for such violations wasn’t just a matter of breaking a social norm; it was seen as a violation of divine order.

Xenia, in Homer's world, is a divine law.

The gods themselves are said to be the ultimate enforcers of xenia, so you'd better believe that disrespecting hospitality could get you in serious trouble. It's not just offering your guest a meal; it's offering protection, shelter, and a safe passage. If you don't uphold that, you're basically tempting the gods to mess with you, and they love doing that, trust me.

Remember when Telemachus first lands in Pylos? Nestor and his family treat him with the utmost respect, offering food, shelter, and stories (and Telemachus finds himself a boyfriend even LMFAOO). This hospitality isn't just a nice gesture; it's a social obligation that reinforces both the personal and communal ties within Greek society. Everyone's in this together, and they all have a part to play. Telemachus' growing appreciation for this custom reflects his coming-of-age journey, as he sees first-hand what it means to be both the host and the guest in the grand game of survival and honor.

For those who are yet to read the Odyssey, the scene basically goes like this:

“You’re the son of my old war buddy, Odysseus? Welcome! Come in, sit down, have food, have shelter, don’t ask questions- Here, my son is your age, share a bed with him :3 !!”

It's the perfect example of how xenia isn't just about being polite; it's about honor (excluding that last part lol). It's about building trust with someone you don't know based on a shared understanding that we're all part of this cosmic social contract. And Telemachus? He's learning that he's part of a much bigger world than just his little island. But he knew how to respect xenia even before he left Ithaca. We see this when he invites Mentor (Athena in disguise) into his home and offers him the munchies before even asking for the stranger's name. He's practically the golden boy of xenia.

And now let's talk about my favorite group of people — the suitors.

Honestly, they're just...the worst at xenia. Like, they didn't even try. Antinous? This guy is the poster child for everything you should NOT do in literally ALL of Ancient Greece. He straight-up mocks Odysseus, who's dressed as a beggar, by insulting him and telling him to leave, throwing a chair at him, and...shocker, he's the first to die. Who's surprised?

Xenia is a two-way street. It's not just what you get — it's what you give. You can't take all the food, drink all the wine, and then act like the host is just there for your enjoyment. You've got to offer something back. That's the whole point of xenia. And sure, you might not have gold and riches to give, but you can show gratitude. You can at least not insult the person whose house you're eating in.

Now, there's one suitor who stands out in the worst possible way, and I'm talking about Eurymachus. You know, this guy isn't just disrespectful, he's an outright traitor to Odysseus. Eurymachus was not just another arrogant man in Odysseus' hall; he was someone who, as a child, had been a guest in Odysseus' home. He was one of those who had been taken care of by Odysseus, fed and treated well. This relationship makes his betrayal all the more significant because it wasn't merely about a stranger dishonoring a host. It was about someone who should have known better, someone who had once been treated as part of the family, turning on Odysseus when the opportunity arose. Eurymachus' betrayal was far worse because it was not simply a violation of xenia; it was a betrayal of trust. He had been in Odysseus' house as a boy, and now he was trying to usurp everything Odysseus had built.

Then, of course, there's Amphinomus. The one suitor who has a tiny bit of decency. He's like, "Hey, maybe we shouldn't kill the beggar and the prince, maybe we should be decent human beings...Please??" And yet he's still part of the whole disgusting group. He doesn't even try to follow xenia; he just doesn't get as bad as the rest of them. So congrats, you're the “least bad” one. But that's like being the least offensive stain on a white shirt. You're still part of the mess. I still think he should have been spared and I would have kissed his cheek for it, but whatever.

The suitors were trash hosts because they didn't respect the rules of hospitality. They took, they didn't give back, and they thought they could get away with it because they were powerful. Well, guess what? No one's untouchable. Not even rich, entitled jerks like Antinous. There's a reason those guys met their end the way they did, and it's because they broke the most sacred rule in Greek society.

Because xenia is not just guarded by the gods, but by Zeus himself.

Zeus' disinterest in Odysseus' personal life is clear, but when it comes to the suitors? That's a whole different story. While he might not always be in Odysseus' corner, Zeus has no tolerance for anyone who dares to violate the divine laws of xenia — particularly when it involves the destruction of a sacred home. I will remind you, Odysseus was a KING. The suitors are not just disrespectful; they're an insult to the gods. And when Telemachus prays for their downfall, and Zeus takes notice, and he responds. His action is swift and dramatic, a sign to all that the gods are paying attention. The deadliest omen Zeus could send is unleashed — two eagles, fierce and fighting, tear at each other over the heads of the people. It's a promise that the suitors' time is running out. What's key here, though, is that Telemachus' prayers don't fall on deaf ears. Zeus doesn't just show his wrath through omens; he actively watches over Telemachus on his journey. When Telemachus sets sail, the sea itself is dangerous and unpredictable, but Zeus protects him, ensuring that he does not meet the same fate as many other men who venture into the vast unknown. In a way, Telemachus becomes the embodiment of the gods' will. He is protected, guided, and tested.

Zeus may be unpredictable, but when it comes to the suitors, he is clear. They've broken the divine laws of hospitality, and their fate is sealed. It's not just Odysseus who will return to Ithaca — it's Telemachus, now under the gods' protection, who will be key in restoring order. The suitors, as arrogant as they are, might have thought they could escape the laws of the gods. But when Zeus speaks, no mortal can escape divine justice. I would like to add that Penelope was not exactly the host. Penelope, despite being a queen, isn't really seen as the one holding the hospitality duties. It's Telemachus who's stepping up to do the job. He takes on the responsibility that comes with being the son of Odysseus. He is the man of the house, making him the proper host (no matter how unwanted these guests were). This is why Penelope is allowed to, you know, stay locked inside her room all day. Telemachus is not. As the host, he has to keep the suitors in check. Penelope's ability to host is muted because of the chaos the suitors bring, and because it's not her job in the grand scheme of things. She's playing a supporting role now, keeping the suitors entertained with her wit and tricks, maintaining the appearance of a woman in control, while Telemachus is out here actually doing the hosting duties. Had Penelope been the one to oversee the hospitality, Eurymachus could have been spared. Why? Because the suitors who gave Penelope gifts (and I'm talking about real, physical, valuable offerings) would have been seen as showing respect to Odysseus through her, and the gods would have intervened. If Penelope had shown Eurymachus even the slightest favor, Odysseus would've been in the position to forgive him. The gods might've even compelled him to spare Eurymachus for the sake of their bond. But nope. That's not what's going down here. The suitors aren't just disrespecting Penelope; they're disrespecting Telemachus, who is the true host of the household. So their fate is sealed the moment they disrespect him.

Amphinomus, for all his faults, wasn't totally awful. He had the sense to not join in on the worst of the disrespect. He even suggested that maybe they should go easy on Telemachus and the beggar. If Amphinomus had left, like, actually left, as per Odysseus' advice, he could have been spared. Why? Because his mistake was one of passive disrespect. He wasn't actively mocking Telemachus, but he wasn't doing enough to step up and stop the madness either. In the end, when he refused to leave, he sealed his fate. Because as long as he stayed in that house, violating xenia by staying after the laws were already broken, he was part of the problem. So yeah, the suitors had it coming. And if any of them had actually understood the sacredness of their role as guests, they might have seen the signs, repented, and avoided the mess they got themselves into. But as it is, none of them learned the lesson, and in the end, their disrespect for Telemachus (and Odysseus once he returned) led to their doom. At the heart of xenia was the idea of balance: a guest should not overstay their welcome, and a host should not neglect their duty to care for their guest. Both sides of the exchange were expected to uphold their part of the contract to ensure the social harmony that the concept of xenia represented. Whether it was a nobleman offering shelter to a wandering traveler or a stranger arriving at a city and receiving shelter from a local family, xenia was meant to bind individuals to a larger, sacred social order that ensured mutual respect and protection. Those who followed the rules of xenia were seen as civilized, as they respected the basic social contracts that allowed society to function. On the other hand, those who violated xenia were labeled barbaric, their behavior seen as a sign of moral decay. Xenia isn't just about food and shelter; it's about trust, honor, and not getting struck down by the gods. Offer respect or expect divine consequences. Hospitality isn't just a rule, it's a cosmic law. And the gods love enforcing it.

[matchalovertrait]

🙈🙉🙊 We all have favorite Sims, that’s no secret. But would you dare to share something about the Sim you like the least? List 3 facts about your least favorite sim and challenge other Simblrs to do the same. 🙈🙉🙊

Oh god 😂 well this may be a shocker but my least favorite sim is Caruso! Don't get me wrong, though; he's a lot of fun to write.

1) He was originally meant to be very mean toward Dulce and end up cheating on her, leading to the first breakup 🫢 Dulce would then end up dating other people, focus on herself, and somehow they end up together again. Somehow they break up again and a court trial would commence!

This version of him (and the story) was in the drafts from about April to mid-May?

I decided against this because:

I don't see Dulce tolerating such behavior. I wanted the heartbreak from Alex to affect her, leading her to make bad decisions, but maybe not in this way? So that's why things went a totally different way and she became a villain for a solid minute 😂 Don't blame me guys, blame the Generation 2 requirements.

It would've dragged on for too long!!!

2) I made him and Antonio at the same time! This was in late May. I wanted to make them attractive while avoiding same-face syndrome. It was easier for me to achieve that by making them side-by-side.

Anyway, his original name was Ray Ricci. He has the athletic, jealous, foodie, and materialistic traits 👀

3) He genuinely had feelings for Dulce, but was with her for all the wrong reasons as well. Neither of them were completely innocent. As much as he wanted to marry Dulce and have kids with her, he would've been miserable a few years later.

What this guy needs is some therapy and self-introspection!

Oh yeah, remember that job interview in Scotland? He actually did really well and got a job offer. However, upon seeing Dulce with Lewis, he decided not to take it. He wanted to isolate her 😬